When to let go and let God

When I was 22 years old something happened. It was August of 2001 when I met my future husband and September when I enrolled in College and started a new job. Calvin was two years old. Something happened, something that made me stand up on my feet and get on with my life.

I was a receptionist at a computer software company; a job that I wasn't sure would ever turn into a career. I was in school going for my Associates Degree in Business Management with the hopes of opening up my own dance studio. My new boyfriend was kind and sweet and gave me my space, something different from the typical "going nowhere" type I was always attracted to.

When my first semester grades came back with A's and B's, I had a moment of "maybe I do know what I'm doing".  At work, my boss gave me side projects that I would complete to his exact specs and soon I realized that I was really good at my job and I liked it. I researched the company training programs and loaded up on all the online training courses. I begged my boss to send me to a CAD training course in Chicago and volunteered for anything that he would throw my way. There was this new sense of control that I had over my life. Juggling all of this while raising a two year old with ADD had its challenges but this time quitting wasn't an option. I was determined to prove to my son that I wasn't a failure and the life that he was born into was not the one I was going to give him.

My kind and sweet boyfriend was just what I needed at the time. While we were the same age, I believe the lack of a child made him a little younger and little more naive. He had a difficult relationship with his father but it was very clear that he had the utmost respect and admiration for his mother even though she kicked him out shortly before we met. I believe it was her strong will that made him open his eyes. He was living on his own, working at a pizza joint and playing with his car. At 22, he was doing just fine. We often talked about his passion for food. I often wondered what he was doing working at a pizza place. The new go getter in me decided to research colleges and I might have filled out an application or two for him. And then something happened.

He met my beautiful son and wasn't so sure, I respected him for his honesty and walked away quietly knowing who truly held my heart. It made it easier even though it still hurt. My mother made me watch lifetime movies and told me she would get me through it. I woke up one morning and suddenly felt rejuvenated, I took mental notes of everything I had in my life and it felt good. I was going to be just fine. I went to work and when I walked in the door that night my phone rang. It was Adam, I waited...briefly and then answered and, again, something happened.

His father's aneurysm changed everything. He didn't know who else to call. When my mother heard what happened, it was her eyes that told me to go. His brother who was only 14 at the time witnessed it at an indoor hockey game. There is a 60% chance of death with an aneurysm. Adam's father waved at me when he went into surgery and said "hello Liz". The nurse told us that his gesture was a very good sign, most of the time they don't remember much before surgery and it was really good that he knew my name. Adam’s father survived and his relationship with Adam is stronger than ever. His grandchildren, both of them, are very blessed to have him in their lives. Adam went off to College and got his Associates Degree in Culinary Arts and has been climbing the ladder at a large restaurant chain for the past 7 years. He said he made a mistake and I said “I know”. He’s a great father.

When I look back at old pictures of myself, I can see the chaos that plagued my life. I see it in my face and body and even in the background shots. There’s clutter all over the dressers, the clothes thrown on the floor, the circles under my eyes and the heavy emotion that sat in my hunched shoulders. Something happened, something good. It was at that age of 22 that I felt a new sense of control, freedom. It was also at that age of 22 that God made me quite aware that I wasn’t in control of everything. I’m a planner, I love to process and organize and detail things and maybe it’s become slightly OCDish and the curtains don’t have to necessarily be lined up the way they are. When I’m done, I take a deep breath and appreciate my life even more. So when I plan our home and our children and things don’t go the way I expected them to I just think back on when I was 22 and I smile. That would be God reminding me that I’m not in control and I should just thank him for giving me a new plan.  

Bumps, baby's and children

I walked into the kitchen the other day and caught Maisie putting her empty icy wrapper into daddy's back pocket while he was doing the dishes. I said, "Hey, where does that go?" and as she continued with her business she responded "trash". When Adam turned around to see what she was doing, she quickly ran out of the kitchen. I envy her sense of humor.

I went to pick up Calvin at karate last night to find him doing a kata routine for Hanshi. His movements were so precise and even when I caught his eye he didn't miss a beat. When he finished Hanshi came over to him and put a second stripe on his Green belt, one more and he can test into Brown belt. I envy his dedication.

At one time or another we've come across that glowing pregnant woman either standing in the grocery store or chasing after her children, the ones that might as well be frolicking through a field of daisies...I can guarantee it wasn't me. And yet, I envy those women that make it look so easy.

Someone asked me if I enjoyed pregnancy and I said with all honesty, "I try". And I do, I genuinely try to enjoy the miracle that is growing inside me. Even as I type and I feel my little one kick and roll and stretch, I'm trying really hard to enjoy the precious moment even if it prevents me from typing. With each of my pregnancies it always seems to be the most uncomfortable times that I cherish the most, or maybe it's just that I remember them the most. There were many times while I was driving when my son would suddenly get the urge to use my rib as a lever for his foot so he could stretch. My daughter would get the hiccups almost every day (cute right?), however, the constant repetitive thumping only made me nauseous. It was these moments that made me wonder, how is this fun? But these are the moments that I look back on and I distinctly remember who was who in the womb.

Even as babies my two have made their mark as individuals. There are many times when I say, "Calvin would never do that". With the 11 year old, I sometimes think the umbilical cord is still attached and yet I truly believe that Maisie took the scissors right out of the doctor's hands and did it herself. Will this new little one follow in his big brother or sister’s footsteps? He will have two very high energy, dominate personalities to compete with...it's no wonder I'm looking for names with the meaning "serenity", "rest", "comfort". The third child is usually the mellow one right?

I didn't know how I could love another child the way that I loved my first but it's amazing how much more your heart grows for the next. Calvin has a unique life that is sometimes filled with challenges and yet he is always so optimistic and loving. Maisie is this spitfire, she just knows exactly what she wants, something that took me 20 something years to figure out. We pass down our hair texture and eye color, maybe even our nose and we hope that they take on only our good traits. We don't often think about the traits that will set them apart from us. The ones we envy, that make us proud and wonder "where did they get that from". Adam would argue that my daughter is just like me and Calvin's OCD problems are obviously from my side of the family. So, yes if this one is mellow then I'll just take the credit for that as well. One thing is for sure, they are all very loved.

We're so excited to welcome baby boy Bruce to the clan in February 2011.

First Day of School

Calvin’s therapist said to me, "Have you ever seen that Target commercial? There's music playing in the background while these two children come walking down the aisle of school supplies with their shoulders hunched and their heads bowed down..." and I quickly said, "YES! The mother is pushing the full cart behind them while she dances and I believe there's even streamers or something!". He then says to me that it is hands down one of the best commercials because every parent he brings it up to remembers it.

There's a feeling, at the end of the summer, an itch that I get. I look forward to "back to school" time, not necessarily because my children are driving me crazy but because it brings back routine and structure. Calvin is going into the 6th grade, junior high. He has four teachers and a lot more homework. I caved this year and told him he could walk to the bus stop. I'm okay with it because he walks with an 8th grader, but what do we do next year? As Calvin attends a private school, he and his lone guardian stand across the street from 10+ public school children...waiting for the bus. Maybe it's the overprotective mother in me or the not-so-fond memories of bullying but I always worry. At the same time, I can only hold his hand for so long. He's 11 years old now and if I expect him to help with chores around the house and to help dress his sister and take out the trash then I believe he's earned the right to some individual freedom. So I go through all the rules (just in case), don't talk to strangers, don't respond to anyone that's harassing you, pay attention to cars and don't mess with any foreign objects. You know, the usual.

Ms. Maisie is starting at an official daycare. We put her in a home daycare for the first couple of years believing that a home setting would be more beneficial and nurturing for her. Now that she's hitting the "wonderful" two's and living in a world of mine, mine, mine, we thought it was time to move her to a more structured environment. Her new school has theme weeks and scheduled snack and nap times. They believe in positive reinforcement and no time outs. I believe I might have chuckled when they told me that. Hey I'm all for positive reinforcement, I'm also for the blue time out chair that sits in our hallway as friendly reminder that if you're not positive that's where you go. Needless to say, our little girl was not to thrilled with this new and unfamiliar place. As I left her hysterically sobbing on the first day I had flashbacks of my own experience in daycare and all I could think of was, "she'll never forgive me". But then I picked her up and the teacher gave me her activity sheets that listed all the music and books and art that they did for the day and I thought, "maybe this is a good place for her". And then...she passed right out at bedtime and even slept through the night and I thought, "hallelujah, why didn't we do this sooner!".

School , to me, means new beginnings and with that we have new challenges. We get into a rhythm at night with dinner and homework and prepping for the next day. Our mornings are timed and everything runs like clockwork (or so it should). Calvin has a white board with a list of items that he needs to do each morning. He showers (shower is on and clothes are waiting in the bathroom), he eats (already set up on the table and waiting), he makes his bed and get his socks and shoes on (which are waiting for him by the front door with his bag and lunch already packed). He has an hour to do all this and we're still working on perfecting it, I'm sure by June we'll have it down. One big hitch is whether or not Maisie wakes up during the process, she tends to be a bit distracting.

Even married mom's sometimes have the job of one. We manage and we are thankful for what we do have which is what's important. Adam works hard as a chef both outside and inside the home. And I usually make sure he gets his own to do list.

On the first day of school, we got up extra early and went out breakfast. It was a nice treat, a tradition that I would like to continue each year.