We just got the call here in New York that today is a snow day. I couldn’t resist writing a little something to go with this humorous meme. Give me an hour or two after my kids are awake and my disposition might not be as light! For now though everyone is still sleeping in their own beds. That means no one is smushed so close up against me that I have to get out and walk to the other side of the bed so I don’t fall out! That means no one is rubbing my earlobe. That means creepy baby’s shell of a leg is not sprawled across my face – don’t ask. That means no one has peed on me overnight. That means I have glorious time to myself! Sure it’s way earlier than I want it to be but these may be the only moments I get to myself!
These moments, these times when they cuddle with me in bed, and use me as their body pillow, will be something I miss. I know I will. It’s just hard to miss something when it is part of a regular routine. I can remember with Christian being so paranoid when I got frustrated with him because I wasn’t enjoying him enough. How many times do people say,
“You will miss these days.”
Each and every time I heard that or thought that, I became stressed. That stress caused me to be even more short tempered. In the end that reminder may not be the best. Keeping the idea that I will miss this someday in the back of my head seems a much better option for me than dwelling on it.
It’s easy to think about how much I will miss this time when my kids are grown. For the most part I am successful at staying present and enjoying my children. Even before losing Christian I feel that this was my approach to parenting. However, after hearing the “poopy song” 56 times in an hour my excitement about being present dims. Then comes the nerf to the butt. Throw in a little fighting and I am looking to lock myself in the bathroom!
It goes without saying that every parent has been there. It also goes without saying that we all love these little antagonizers more than anything. It took me a long time after losing Christian to be okay with these feelings. My heart was plagued with such pain. I would give anything to get him back, even at his toughest moments. A friend of mine taught me the power of the word “and”. This changed a lot for me.
I can be a grieving mother who would do anything to get her son back AND still be a person who gets frustrated with her living children. In no way does this mean I don’t love them more than anything. It just means I am a human.
The love I have for my children is unmeasurable. I will miss when my boys don’t cuddle with me. Hearing “mommy” in their little voices melts me every time, unless they are whining or screaming. There is so much to be missed but it makes it so hard to enjoy if we think that way.
Parenting is hard. Sometimes it makes your heart swell a hundred times. Other times it makes you feel like sticking a fork in your eye. Such is life. Humor will get us through those moments that make us want to pick up the fork. One thing I have learned is that humor heals. If it weren’t for the nerf to the butt what would we miss in twenty years?
Today parents of children waking up to find out that school is closed, find humor. When you have refereed the 73rd fight and can’t take it anymore, find something humorous. When you have dressed and undressed them for snow for the tenth time, when you have cleaned pee off the floor for the thousandth time, find humor. If you can’t find that, find wine! Both will get us through. Sending good vibes and hopes for humor to all of you today! Love to heaven…
My name is Cara Martinisi. I am mother to three boys and a wife to my high school sweetheart. Up until three and a half years ago, I lived a mainly charmed life. I married the first boy I fell in love with, had three easy pregnancies and three healthy boys. Family and friends were plentiful and amazing. There were bumps in the road, like with anyone else. For the most part, though, I had lived my life with everything falling neatly into place.
This all changed after living 35 years in this manner. On July 3rd 2014, our house got struck by lightening. It was a scary experience, which resulted in a fire. Our entire family escaped the fire safely. Our home needed to be gutted and rebuilt, but we realized just how blessed we were to all be safe and sound. Fast forward exactly eight weeks later, to the end of the summer, August 28th. Our entire world was changed in a matter of minutes. We were living in a rental home, where a freak accident occurred. The supporting pole in the garage was not secure. It fell on my six year old son, Christian. My then three year old son and I witnessed the entire scene.
This has irrevocably changed who I am as a person in every way. I am now a bereaved mother. It may be one of my titles, but not my identity. My family will never be the same. We are left to move on, while we are not whole. The trauma, shock and pain resonates daily, in one way or another. My mission, now, is to help others who have joined this undesirable club. My mission is to carry on my son’s message, which was kindness. My mission, now, is to make a new normal. I hope you get some inspiration from my posts, whether you are a bereaved parent or not. Grieving a child teaches you lessons that one can never learn in any other way. As always, love to heaven...
View all posts by christiansredballoon