Happy Birthday at Home....

where will she be celebrating her next birthday?

Lovely in Comedy of Error last fall.

If you look at the calendar or have a brain in your head, today is Sunday.  So next year the 22nd will fall on a Monday.  In September.  Probably a month after school starts for most universities.  Today what that means to me is that next year, on this date, my #1 will be celebrating her birthday with new friends, in a new space, maybe with a cafeteria dining hall singing Happy Birthday or maybe with a few friends at a coffee shop within walking distance.  But the calendar is against the chance that she will be home.  And so is the fact that she is ready to spread her wings and start sprinkling the magic dust that is her personality on some other lucky corner of the world.

We've done some senior photos; they are gorgeous.
We've taken college visits.
We've gotten up early and headed off to the ACT one last time.
We've sorted college mail.
We've allowed ourselves to be impressed by some of our college mail.
We've laughed at some college mail.
We've recycled A LOT of college mail.
We've cried or smiled through a few 'last times.' There will be more.

And it is only September.

The year ahead brings an emotional roller coaster for us all.  Her too.  I am not sure the younger 4 siblings have any idea how different life will be in a year, but the impact will be felt.

When I wrote about #2 on her birthday I included all the ways she helped the family through my time of illness.  Number 1 had her role to play too.  For better or for worse #1's role was all about me.

Gorgeous as a flapper, just because, for her junior winter prom.

Texts, emails, Facebook messages arrived multiple times a day and they all said 'I love you.'
No matter what was going on at home #1 always said everything was fine: house, kids, school, dad, pets, all just fine.  She missed studying for two major tests, only one of which she got to re take, and she never said a word.  Never let on.  And this all while I was in the hospital.

Once I came home I saw more clearly the roles they played.  I saw that perhaps there was some inequality.  #2 had the lion's share; as well as my dear husband.  What was #1's main job?  Me.
I never walked by her when she didnt hug me.  If I were standing or sitting still she kissed my cheek. The I love you messages continued to come in.

For awhile I had a hard time being alone in my big room at night.  Talented husband was in a show. sometimes I made Bruiser sleep with me and he had to carry her back to her bed when he got home.  But usually I asked #1 to please come study with me.  And without fail, I would hear her ascend the steps giant stack of notebooks and text books.  She would crawl in bed with me, rub my hair or shoulders, kiss my cheek and go to work.  And I would sleep.

Playing dinosaur with the little ones at the zoo this summer.

Many nights she would just show up without my asking.

To this day she doesn't leave the house without kissing my cheek and squeezing my arm.  When she comes home I get a hug.  She checks in with me, how was your day?  Do you need to lay down?  Often I do, but I want to hear about her day and watch her wrangle the littles, so I don't.

I don't know how many days like these I have left, but I will enjoy them all.  I am so very proud of my ray of sunshine and the woman she is becoming.  There are great things in her future.  This I know.
And she loves me a lot.  This I know too.

Give- a comparison of gifts

Let's just get it out of the way, I haven't blogged in FOREVER.  And I probably have had time. And now I am back attempting the full time teaching gig and full time mom gig and embarking on the full time theater gig...and trying to blog.  But 9/11 is a special day. A day of National Remembrance and a day of celebrating my #2. A day to think back, for reflection and for counting blessings.

It has been nearly 9 months since viral meningitis rocked our world. Aside from all the impacts on me personally and physically, the illness had long lasting impacts on each member of this family.

My school, my extended family, my husband, my dearest friends, they all stepped up to make sure that lunches, rides, school work, etc were taken care of each day.

Silly but blessed in her friendships!

But day in and day out WITHOUT fail my #2 was my rock.  And every one in our little house knew it. Knows it. She and I may not be the most pleasant individuals at all times, but you can count on us.  I can count on her.  Make lunches, yep.  Plan meals, yep. Pack little people backpacks, yep. Get us out the door, know who is on for rides, be sure #3 is reading enough, surprise the littles with lunchables, check on me to be sure I am resting enough; yep, yep, yep, yep, yep.

Who is this woman child?  This tower with broad shoulders? She certainly is not the same person as the toddler who once kicked her sister in the head, said, 'tupid brat' and kept walking.  Not the same kid as the one who would beg for an ice cream cone and then scream bloody murder if asked to share one bite.

We ran out of money pre birthday.  I had to explain that to #2.  It wasn't awkward and I didn't feel guilty. She made me laugh and feel OK about it.  We will order her present this weekend and she knows she will get it.  We celebrated with pizza and ice cream at the farm, thank God for Nana. But I didn't think we would have a cake on her birthday at home until Fairy Godmother brought one to the house.  #2 is the baker of course.  The rest of us sit back and enjoy birthday cakes made by her for us.  On her day I had nothing. The only thing at the party for her to unwrap was a bit ironic.

Beautiful inside and out!

In a puff protection style mailer envelope with no wrapping paper, a necklace I purchased from the sevenly.org site.  Sevenly is a group that helps support many social issues through recycling and repurposing old keys, old fabrics, plastics, etc and creating wearable social messages to spread the word.  Issues like bullying, child sex trafficking, homelessness, child soldiers, etc.

This particular necklace is a repurposed key on a recycled chain. The key is stamped with one word.
"GIVE."  In theory to remind others to give. Ironically for me on this 9/11 day of remembrance and thankfulness, I gave a key labeled 'give' to someone who 'gives' to me daily.

I thank God for her and the beauty of her giving spirit every day.  Today I thank God for this little key that reminded me of just how much giving my #2 does on a daily basis.  It does get lost in the crabby attitude sometimes, but I don't have to think too hard to realize where that comes from, that much is clearly inherited. I can hardly hold that against her.  As I like to say, we all have a number one skill and mine is crabbiness.  She herds, organizes, cleans, bakes, teaches, hugs and disciplines with an iron fist and warm heart. That heart is hidden under layers of protective necessity:  who needs what, when, how will we get that done, how is mom, where is dad, what time do we need to leave.  Her blue/gold personality keeps those emotions of warmth, creativity, silliness and joy hidden just beneath the surface.  They are there disguised as getting us to school on time, packing healthy lunches, teaching us to bathe and brush teeth so we arent the smelly one at school, fiercely tight hugs and enormous pride at our accomplishments.

Hugs and candy and play time and giggling and all sorts of shenanigans would be more fun, but in the end they don't yield a lasting impact.  And what #2 has to give is going to last us a long time.

Strong and Hard working I know my school has learned what a valuable asset she is too!

In just a couple years I will let her go.  I used to think I knew just what she would do when she 'grew' up. Now I have no idea. The world is hers and it better be good to her because she will give and give and give.  And it, like me, will be undeserving, lucky and blessed.
Happy Birthday #2.  I love you.

Unwilling Reader of a new chapter...OR What the Heck is going on with Amy?

Ok so I have never been a real consistent blogger.  In fact I may not be exactly consistent in much at all.
Except I consistently love my job and my family.  Not in that order, but oddly enough that is how I typed it.

I think I know why.

Probably because today I turned in a giant stack of paperwork that will allow my family to get some money from the Lincoln Life Group even though I am not working.
After two attempts to get back at it and be a teacher again, I have come to the conclusion (with much pushing and prodding) that I really am unable to go back to work.

How did all this come about?  Well apparently this is the million dollar question.  I am now the subject of journal articles and Dr. luncheon seminars.  Apparently the Big Brother of all viruses attached itself to my spinal cord, my inner spinal cord, causing viral meningitis of a type usually unseen in the spinal cord.  Yay Me!  I love being unique.

This lovely medical occurrence landed me in the hospital FOR THE SECOND TIME IN TWO MONTHS for a 10 day stay.  Leaving my poor family to fend for themselves again.
As a side note, they did a great job.  Another side note, my school and my husband's school were amazingly supportive and continue to be.

Two weeks of PIC line antivirals, 3 MRI's, 2 CAT scans, more blood work than you can imagine and Dr. appointments, I can't even count them.  This has been my life.  And the life of my family and friends.

During this time period my little brother got married; I wasn't there.
'Into the Woods' got produced, performed and torn down; I wasn't there.
Parent Conferences for the twins, #2 and #3 came and went.
Spring formals, 2nd grade craft projects, First communion parent meetings.
I missed them all.  In fact I was so out of it for some many days that I may have missed things and I don't even know it.

I do know that I must take the time to recover.  I do know that I can't recover without complete rest.

I do know that I am married to a good guy who worked hard to keep things going.  I know I have amazing children who stuck together and made it work and never made me feel bad.
I have co workers and best buddies who made things happen on many levels of my life so that no children or students were let down because I couldn't fulfill my obligations to them.

I am grateful for all these people, family and friends.  I am grateful for the opportunity to recover in the best way possible.

And it is my job to remember over the next few weeks that I have much to be grateful for.

Man's Best Friend

We moved in to our first home as a family of 4 in August of 2000.  Nearly immediately Thomas and I realized that something was missing.  We needed a dog.  Really, the house just wasn't quite a home without one.  But what kind of dog to choose?  We looked at everything from Charpe's (wrinkle dogs) to a Plot Hound at the Humane Society.  Through the whole process Thomas kept coming back to his first childhood dog, Krissy.

So when I went in to the pet store on N. 72nd street just to see what they had, I was thrilled to see a miniature dachshund pup that fit that description nearly exactly.  I raced home to get Thomas.  We dropped the girls at the farm and went puppy shopping.

For Thomas it was love at first sight.  I was right.  This little black pup brought back wonderful memories for Thomas; the search was over.  All was proceeding as planned until Thomas asked the shop owner 'How much for the pair?'  You see the black pup had a brother with him; a little red doxie.  Two dogs?  I weighed in on the impracticality of two. Thomas refused to leave one brother behind.  We went home with two dogs.

I had several clever names in mind.  Peanut Butter and Jelly...oh there were better ones.  Thomas knew right away that #3 had already decided on her pet names, should she ever have a dog of her own.  Much to my horror the darling black pup was named Bindycake and his poor unsuspecting brother was named Cheddar.

When they met the girls it was a love fest.

The two doxies were nearly impossible to house train, they listened selectively, didnt do tricks or play fetch, they ate poop and man did they bark.  But they were lap snuggles.  They loved the girls.  They were champion walkers on a leash. They were ours.

Somewhere along the line we added a rabbit sized doxie.  A female named Rags.  Both 'boys' accepted her just fine.  The herd was complete.

For 13 years this furry group of siblings completed our family.  When we added 3 wild, non dog loving, children from Haiti, they went along with it.  And won over the hearts of the new additions.  When we moved, they found new places to make their own and they loved the fenced back yard.

It was hard not to notice the graying faces, clouding eyes and slower pace of all three.  But it was there.
I often joked about how different the next dog would be once 'these guys kick off.'  No one liked those jokes.

Two days ago our dear Bindy cake got pretty sedentary.  Even for him.  When carried to the food dish, he didnt eat.  For Bindy this is pretty alarming.  Doxies have back issues and usually medicine and kennel treatment fixes them right up.

When I headed to the vet today I believed I was going for treatment of a back issue.  An initial consultation proved much  more serious.  And costly.  One of the hardest things a pet owner, at least pet owners like us, have to face is the responsible use of resources.  With 5 kids and a month to month income, spending excessively on our pets just isn't possible.  No matter how much we want to.  In this case spending the money didnt mean a cure or comfort for our friend.  It was time to say goodbye.

Bindy was put to sleep and his ashes will come home in a week or so.  Thomas and I cried together as we said goodbye.  Telling the kids was worse.  Why do we put ourselves through this?

Because pets are teachers.  Teachers that don't assign homework, yell or have high expectations.  They just love.  They need only food , water, to be let out once in awhile, maybe a walk and lots of love.  Which they return in kind.  But kids learn responsibility, friendship, sharing.  And they learn about death.  They learn to say goodbye.  All children will face the loss of loved ones: grandparents, aunts, a friend, a parent, a sibling.  It is hard to predict what tragedies may affect the life of a child.  Learning to say goodbye, learning to talk about death, heaven, letting go, letting out your feelings through the process of saying goodbye to a pet is an important and special lesson.  Just one more selfless example of love that man's best friend provides his/her human.

Bindy was a jolly, chubby, loveable and big hearted friend.  A master teacher right to the end.

And we will miss him.

So Much to Tell

Ummm, January 6 was the last time I blogged.  Oops.

I have many things to update and many feelings to work through using the process of writing as a sort of therapy and family historical record.

Things I missed:
Anniversary of the Haiti Earthquake
Anniversary of Gotcha day 1 and 2
Valentine's Day
Recap of #2's first high school basketball season
#1's first ACT
My littlest brother's wedding
And of course the reason I missed writing about all this, my illness

So now that I am on long term leave from school I have some time to write.  I will try to combine new events with going back to hit some of these important events.

But today I am going to blog about a much more important event.

Happy Anniversary to Us

It was much much colder 17 years ago.  Like so cold that when I stopped to wash the car after getting my hair done (at 7a.m.) that the gas station attendant looked at me like I was nuts and told me the wash was closed.

The day warmed up dramatically though; in the form of a wedding.  The marriage of two people taking a pretty big leap of faith.  Two people who had not even know each other a year.  Two people who wanted a family but knew they were facing infertility.  Two teachers, two Catholics, two big families, two open minds with liberal ideals. Lots of debt, plenty of worries, more unknowns than knowns.  But there was love.  And hope.

17 years later it is cold outside once again.  There is snow on the ground and a cold wind is blowing.  Inside a small brick tudor it is warm.  There are two teenage girls sleeping in and oblivious to the sounds of chaos racing through the home.  There are three little Haitians causing the chaos.  They have been up since 6a.m.  Quiet coffee time together is non existent for the happy couple.

The couple has amassed a new kind of debt; house and car payments, tuition and large grocery bills.  House #2 is nearer to work but farther from perfect with its one bathroom and tiny garage.  There is a wonderful master suite that is empty most often due to the family schedule.

The happy couple meets early as they race around to get everyone out the door.  They meet late as they fall into bed after coordinating dinner, baths, homework, bed.  Both money and time for a date night is scarce.

Knew knowns and unknowns have replaced those that began the marriage.

Except one, they know there is love.  Love between a woman and her husband.  Love in return.  Love between 5 siblings who came together through a true a journey unique to them.  Love between parents and children that is fierce and loyal with a sense of wonderment.  A family that shares a special bond and love because they worked so hard and prayed so intensely and live with a gratitude deeper than most, because they are together and that was a certainty.

17 years of a journey that began when a shy school teacher asked a warm voiced actor out for coffee to  discuss speech curriculum.  Neither of them liked teaching speech.  Neither of them knew what they were getting into.  But love grew.  And though there is room for improvement, that love still grows and that is what is really matters.