Mood: nostalgic, hopeful
Malcolm,
I cannot begin to tell you how excited I am for your school journey to officially begin, nor could I ever hope to have words that express my admiration for you as a person. You are so smart, so compassionate and empathetic, you have energy for days and you share your father and my passion for reading. I do not worry about how you will do at school, for I know you will shine. I do not worry that you will make friends, you have personality for days.
I do not worry about you in Kindergarten. I worry that I am not worthy to share this journey with you. On the days when I have spent all day writing and am short with you, I know I do you an injustice. It is my sincere wish that I learn a bit more patience and that I am always as delighted to hear your stories as you are to tell them.
I do not worry about you in Kindergarten. I worry that I am not going to be able to let you go. I cannot tell you, and will probably never find the words to do so, how much I have cherished every day that you and I have spent together for the last 3 years. Staying at home with you has taught me so much about myself and what it really means to be a mother. I will never be able to thank you enough for the lessons you have taught me and I hope that I have passed on a few of my own to you.
I do not worry about you in Kindergarten. I know that you are going to excel this year just as you did last year. Your father and I are more proud of you just for existing than we could ever begin to convey to you. Know that on nights when our tempers or short or we are too exhausted to get up and run around playing "Transformers" with you, our love and pride for and in you has not diminished. There is NOTHING that you cannot do. Boy, you'll move mountains. And I'll be behind you the whole time watching with tears in my eyes and marveling at my deep love and profound respect for you. At 5 years old you are nothing short of a miracle.
You are one of my reasons for living. You make me want to be a better wife, mother and person overall. You remind me daily that nothing can be taken too seriously and that there is always something to wonder at.
Never lose that.
I am so, so proud of you and I am beyond excited for your new journey into school. Your father and I are behind your every step cheering you on, wiping your tears and testing you on new challenges. We love you. We are proud of you. Good luck and have fun!
Mom
Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts
2014/08/11
2013/10/11
Win Some, Lose Way More
Mood: defeated
I've always tried to be kind. To live my life in a way that showed compassion for others. To imagine other's lives and try to see things that are kept hidden. One of my very favorite quotes is "be kind to everyone you meet, for everyone is fighting their own battles." I love that quote because it is true. And because sometimes, we all need a gentle reminder of that.
Jeff was admitted to the hospital on Monday night. Tuesday morning Malcolm and I went over to the hospital around 9. Just before 11, I took Malcolm back home, got him lunch and took him to school before stopping to grab some lunch for myself to take back to the hospital. Panera sounded good, so in I went. I ordered behind some well-dressed gentleman and his fiancee, but my order was prepared before theirs. As I stepped forward to grab my bag he turned to this beautiful woman with the perfect hair and makeup and Gucci purse and said, "I'm so tired of people being too lazy to dress themselves."
In another lifetime I would have slunk out of the Panera and berated myself for looking like such a hot mess in my yoga pants and band t-shirt. But not in this lifetime. Instead I turned and looked him directly in the eye and said, "Sir, actually, I just didn't think that I needed to be business casual to go and sit with my husband who is unconscious in the hospital." And then I smiled.
That shut him right up. Which was my intention.
But, it's still bothered me all week. Partly because HOW DARE HE? And, in part, because I did look like a hot damn mess. In college, the one time where it is acceptable to go everywhere in sweats, I didn't. I did not attend a single undergraduate course in anything less than jeans with my hair and makeup done. I was also so self conscious that I would have never been seen without makeup except by my roommates, and only then because it's pretty unavoidable.
The older I get, and the more comfortable I am with myself, the more I realize that I don't need to please everyone. And that trying to do so just ends with me upset and feeling defeated.
The thing is, I already feel defeated this week. It has kicked my ass. I have spent more time in the car than I have sleeping and I am beyond hormonal. I am trying so hard to be the caring spouse, the fun and educational stepmom, the daughter, trying to be a friend. I feel like I haven't done a single one of those roles justice this week. I have failed in every single way I could this week.
Here's the thing though; in the same lifetime that would have found me leaving Panera silently I would spend all weekend beating myself up and hating myself. And sure, I'll probably do some of that. It's just in my nature. But, I will also try again. I'll get some sleep and I'll tend to Jeff. I'll recharge myself so when we get Malcolm back on Sunday night I'm ready to practice handwriting and play with his superheros. I will rise again.
They say cancer is a family disease, and I couldn't agree more. It touches every single aspect of life and affects all interpersonal relationships. It's brutal and it's scary, it's humbling and hard, but it has already taught me how much stronger I am than I think. And that, despite my previous opinion of myself, I AM a fighter. I will be knocked down on my feet 1,000 more times before this is done but guess what? I'll get up 1,001. And that is a beautiful lesson.
To all those who have reached out after my last post, please be patient I promise I have read your messages. And I cannot express my gratitude. This weekend I will be answering messages, this week was just too crazy for anything more than this generic thank you. But there are people who have reached out and touched my heart and I will be forever changed because of the kindness shown to me.
Thank you.
From the bottom of my heart.
Thank you.
If you are able, please consider donating to my husband's fundraiser, or spread the word if you are unable to give financially.
https://www.giveforward.com/fundraiser/8t73/jeff-lilland-s-testicular-cancer-fund
I've always tried to be kind. To live my life in a way that showed compassion for others. To imagine other's lives and try to see things that are kept hidden. One of my very favorite quotes is "be kind to everyone you meet, for everyone is fighting their own battles." I love that quote because it is true. And because sometimes, we all need a gentle reminder of that.
Jeff was admitted to the hospital on Monday night. Tuesday morning Malcolm and I went over to the hospital around 9. Just before 11, I took Malcolm back home, got him lunch and took him to school before stopping to grab some lunch for myself to take back to the hospital. Panera sounded good, so in I went. I ordered behind some well-dressed gentleman and his fiancee, but my order was prepared before theirs. As I stepped forward to grab my bag he turned to this beautiful woman with the perfect hair and makeup and Gucci purse and said, "I'm so tired of people being too lazy to dress themselves."
In another lifetime I would have slunk out of the Panera and berated myself for looking like such a hot mess in my yoga pants and band t-shirt. But not in this lifetime. Instead I turned and looked him directly in the eye and said, "Sir, actually, I just didn't think that I needed to be business casual to go and sit with my husband who is unconscious in the hospital." And then I smiled.
That shut him right up. Which was my intention.
But, it's still bothered me all week. Partly because HOW DARE HE? And, in part, because I did look like a hot damn mess. In college, the one time where it is acceptable to go everywhere in sweats, I didn't. I did not attend a single undergraduate course in anything less than jeans with my hair and makeup done. I was also so self conscious that I would have never been seen without makeup except by my roommates, and only then because it's pretty unavoidable.
The older I get, and the more comfortable I am with myself, the more I realize that I don't need to please everyone. And that trying to do so just ends with me upset and feeling defeated.
The thing is, I already feel defeated this week. It has kicked my ass. I have spent more time in the car than I have sleeping and I am beyond hormonal. I am trying so hard to be the caring spouse, the fun and educational stepmom, the daughter, trying to be a friend. I feel like I haven't done a single one of those roles justice this week. I have failed in every single way I could this week.
Here's the thing though; in the same lifetime that would have found me leaving Panera silently I would spend all weekend beating myself up and hating myself. And sure, I'll probably do some of that. It's just in my nature. But, I will also try again. I'll get some sleep and I'll tend to Jeff. I'll recharge myself so when we get Malcolm back on Sunday night I'm ready to practice handwriting and play with his superheros. I will rise again.
They say cancer is a family disease, and I couldn't agree more. It touches every single aspect of life and affects all interpersonal relationships. It's brutal and it's scary, it's humbling and hard, but it has already taught me how much stronger I am than I think. And that, despite my previous opinion of myself, I AM a fighter. I will be knocked down on my feet 1,000 more times before this is done but guess what? I'll get up 1,001. And that is a beautiful lesson.
To all those who have reached out after my last post, please be patient I promise I have read your messages. And I cannot express my gratitude. This weekend I will be answering messages, this week was just too crazy for anything more than this generic thank you. But there are people who have reached out and touched my heart and I will be forever changed because of the kindness shown to me.
Thank you.
From the bottom of my heart.
Thank you.
If you are able, please consider donating to my husband's fundraiser, or spread the word if you are unable to give financially.
https://www.giveforward.com/fundraiser/8t73/jeff-lilland-s-testicular-cancer-fund
2012/12/27
Lessons in Humility
Alternate title: Proof That my (Almost) 4 Year Old Stepson is Smarter Than me.....
Mood: humble, happy, hopeful
I have to admit, I never wanted children. Publicly anyway. As I've gotten older I've realized that not wanting children was indeed a defense mechanism. If I say I don't want any then how can I possibly be disappointed when I don't have any? I do have one, though. Malcolm may not be my son by blood or biology, but in my heart I know we were meant to be in each other's lives.
Reason #1 I know this to be true? He forces me to learn something new every single day. And if we're being completely honest I learn something new about 20 times a day when I'm with him. My current favorite example happened last night. Last month my mom shipped her old Clarisonic face brush to me as I was having a horrid time with my face breaking out, but could not afford to purchase one myself. Last month is the most important part of that sentence. I have been using this for a full month. 30 days. I've been cleansing morning and night religiously with this thing. I just yesterday learned that there is more than 1 speed. How did I learn this? Malcolm picked it up. That's it. Withing 10 seconds of having it turned on he managed to show me that there is more than 1 setting. Why had it never occurred to me to press that damn button a second time?
Which leads me to reason #2 that I know we are destined to be lifelong friends. He makes me wonder. I took a course in seminary on wonder. What wonder is, how to encourage it, how to take time to wonder. It seemed so logical and smart and easy at age 23, having never been outside of an academic setting. I would sit in class and think that of course we all needed to stop and smell the proverbial roses, why on earth was I earning credit for this class? Then life happened. 5 years of work and general living and not being an official student later, I wish I would remember to smell those roses. Or to look at the snow outside and think not of the delays and headaches that it will result in, but how infinitely amazing it is that there is 13 inches on the ground and not one single flake is the same as another. Malcolm is a constant reminder that the world is full of things to marvel at. From the universal and deeply meaningful to remembering that it's okay to experiment with everyday items just to "see what happens."
And the third and most important reason I know that Malcolm was more than a huge bonus to meeting and marrying Jeff? I love him. It may seem like that reason doesn't make sense. But to me, it does. I love this child. This child that did not grow inside me, nor did I ever see in infancy. This child that could already walk and punch and argue when we met. This child that teaches me all the time that I am capable of more. I am so much more than what I limit myself to. Jeff tells me this, my parents and sister tell me this, it is something I "know." Yet for some reason when this realization comes from Malcolm it clicks. I have a sudden, fleeting moment of clarity that whatever horrible thing is happening at this exact second is just a speck of dust on the "big picture" of our lives. I have gained patience that I never thought I would have. And love that is so pure and real that wondering at it now, tears of joy fall from my eyes.
Parenthood, and step-parenthood in particular, is trial by fire. There is nothing to be done except do and then pray that you're doing something right. Judging by Malcolm Jeff has done a great job, and the way he relates to me I think maybe I'm not doing too shabby. I know that this is a lifelong job, and I am already dreading Malcolm circa age 12...but today I am so blessed to be spending time with him. Teaching him. Loving him. But most importantly, learning and growing from him.
Mood: humble, happy, hopeful
I have to admit, I never wanted children. Publicly anyway. As I've gotten older I've realized that not wanting children was indeed a defense mechanism. If I say I don't want any then how can I possibly be disappointed when I don't have any? I do have one, though. Malcolm may not be my son by blood or biology, but in my heart I know we were meant to be in each other's lives.
Reason #1 I know this to be true? He forces me to learn something new every single day. And if we're being completely honest I learn something new about 20 times a day when I'm with him. My current favorite example happened last night. Last month my mom shipped her old Clarisonic face brush to me as I was having a horrid time with my face breaking out, but could not afford to purchase one myself. Last month is the most important part of that sentence. I have been using this for a full month. 30 days. I've been cleansing morning and night religiously with this thing. I just yesterday learned that there is more than 1 speed. How did I learn this? Malcolm picked it up. That's it. Withing 10 seconds of having it turned on he managed to show me that there is more than 1 setting. Why had it never occurred to me to press that damn button a second time?
Which leads me to reason #2 that I know we are destined to be lifelong friends. He makes me wonder. I took a course in seminary on wonder. What wonder is, how to encourage it, how to take time to wonder. It seemed so logical and smart and easy at age 23, having never been outside of an academic setting. I would sit in class and think that of course we all needed to stop and smell the proverbial roses, why on earth was I earning credit for this class? Then life happened. 5 years of work and general living and not being an official student later, I wish I would remember to smell those roses. Or to look at the snow outside and think not of the delays and headaches that it will result in, but how infinitely amazing it is that there is 13 inches on the ground and not one single flake is the same as another. Malcolm is a constant reminder that the world is full of things to marvel at. From the universal and deeply meaningful to remembering that it's okay to experiment with everyday items just to "see what happens."
And the third and most important reason I know that Malcolm was more than a huge bonus to meeting and marrying Jeff? I love him. It may seem like that reason doesn't make sense. But to me, it does. I love this child. This child that did not grow inside me, nor did I ever see in infancy. This child that could already walk and punch and argue when we met. This child that teaches me all the time that I am capable of more. I am so much more than what I limit myself to. Jeff tells me this, my parents and sister tell me this, it is something I "know." Yet for some reason when this realization comes from Malcolm it clicks. I have a sudden, fleeting moment of clarity that whatever horrible thing is happening at this exact second is just a speck of dust on the "big picture" of our lives. I have gained patience that I never thought I would have. And love that is so pure and real that wondering at it now, tears of joy fall from my eyes.
Parenthood, and step-parenthood in particular, is trial by fire. There is nothing to be done except do and then pray that you're doing something right. Judging by Malcolm Jeff has done a great job, and the way he relates to me I think maybe I'm not doing too shabby. I know that this is a lifelong job, and I am already dreading Malcolm circa age 12...but today I am so blessed to be spending time with him. Teaching him. Loving him. But most importantly, learning and growing from him.
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