How educated are my children.
Well sweet girl is starting high school Monday. HIGH SCHOOL!! Do you know what that means? As a young parent I didn't realize that no dating until 16 would equate to 2 years of diverting schemes to date before 16. Along comes high school and dances and proms and cars and oh. my. my. How am I going to do this. She is counting down 200 + days and I will have my learners permit.
So this morning I am sitting there enjoying a cup of java. 2 year old is wandering around with his sippy. He exclaiims blue. I say a ha. He exclaims blue! It is not registering what he is saying. I say what is it your saying? He says Blue!!!! I am like yep your right, whatever you say. I go back to breaking news when it hits me. The cup is blue. Yes son yes your cup its blue.
And I am supposed to get a teen girl through high school and into college. Heaven Help me.
Grade School
I remember a moment from kindergarten. It was a bittersweet moment. I had started school and invited several friends to my birthday party right after school. I remember running home from the school bus full of excitement and joy. The local neighborhood children arrived and I was very happy. As time continued to pass no others came knocking. I was sad. I was no longer happy for those that were there I was only angry at those that didn't come. Still today I dont know why they didn't come or why they didn't call. But that day, that moment I knew it was all my mother's fault.
This is the time in my life when I learned to use anger to escape the myraid of feelings I didn't know how to cope with.
It wasn't long before I learned that anger also won me the prize of attention. When I lashed out at home my mother would respond. When I lashed out at the babysitter's my mom would come home. When I lashed out in school I got the attention of the teachers, the principal and as an added bonus the kids were always talking about me on the playground.
This behavior also brought me to be exiled and alienated to the portable classroom outback. This class room housed 6 boys and me + 2 very special teachers. I loved this class and the attention I was given. It is in this classroom that I found I had a thirst for knowlege. They didn't hold me back if I wanted more I got more. If I wanted different I got different. This classroom was wonderful. It was when I had to leave the classroom that life got hard. All the kids would tease and ridicule. My friends were only my friends when no one else was around. I was isolated and afraid (Isn't this how most addicts begin?)
"My Story"
I learned this from a blog I lurk at regularly. It is a place for me to put in writing for myself and those close to me to see.
This is the beginning......
As for the whole debate of addiction (is it environmental? or is it hereditary?). I haven't got a clue. I have seen people from extremely functional families be low-down, gutter type addicts. I have seen people from very dysfuntional families riddled with addiction go on to be very successful, non-using type people. So which came first? I don't have the answer.
For me..... I think there were many life experiences that prepared me to turn to something outside of myself to cope with pain.
In the beginning, I am told I had a carefree life made up of a successful father and a stay at home mother. That all came to a crashing halt that fateful day, July 1, 1977. My father was violently taken by a single truck accident. No witnesses, no indication of why it happened. Suddenly, I was a member of a single parent family on the verge of poverty. My mother chose alcohol as a way to cope and it wasn't long after that she was struggling just to keep us (her and I) together.
I have small glimpses in my memory where I remember being lined up near a fireplace with 5 or 6 other children dressed in our finest Sunday clothes. I am told this from a time when I was in a foster home. From this time I also remember feeling different from those children, isolated and alone. (This is the beginning for any addict, isn't it?)
Run concurrently with this memory is a happier time with my grandfather, picking raw, fresh potatoes and squirting them clean. Then pop... right in my mouth, no salt, nothing. Pure heaven I'd call it. I remember sitting at my grandparents table and being told to eat all on my plate or it would be breakfast, getting forked for having my elbows on the table and laughing at my cousin as he sat across from me. I am told this is where I went after foster care. I remember a happiness but still an unworthiness. Almost like I wasn't quite good enough to feel happy (This is the beginning for an addict, isn't it?)
In the beginning my hero, my father was taken from me. There is no thing that can replace that emptiness. No amount of chemical could fill it, no amount of therapy has cured it and even today in recovery.......the loss is evident. I have just found a new way to cope.
Stay tuned for more.........if you're interested.
A Moment Like This
Who would have thought that I would have come this far? I remember quite vividly the first 12 months of my relationship with my husband. Every 30 days I celebrated my ability to stay. I celebrated his willingness to put up with me. Fast forward 5.5 years later, 3 years today in marriage. I am flabbergasted. Flabbergasted the I have forgotten to celebrate the little moments. The 30 days, the weekend, the night.
I love each night when we crawl into bed and his foot touches mine. I find solace, serenity and love in that moment. I love each evening when our son leaps from my lap with the call of daddy on his lips. I find joy that we share such a miracle, that he is a father unlike anyother. I love that he reminds me to allow our daughter to grow up when he assures me that yes is okay every now and then. I love that he loves her even though she is not of his seed.
I love that he is an individual and free thinking. He has his own hobbies and freedoms. Because of this he allows me mine. I have the best husband around I know this because he is mine. There are not many that could live with me, and love me just the way I am. For that I love him.
On this day I conciously remember the vows we shared. I conciously thank God for the miracle that is our life together. On this day I am humble for I have done nothing to deserve such an awesome blessing. I am grateful for the quality of life I experience as a result of the love that we share.
I love you Sean. You are my rock, my solace and my serenity.
Happy Anniversary!
EASY DOES IT....
So it has been awhile since I actually put my thoughts out there. My parenting has changed. I have come to accept that my child is going to grow and change and become the beautiful, independent person she was meant to become. When I gave birth to her I held certain dreams, and fantasies for her. I wanted to give her so much more. I believe that is every parents desire. What I didn't understand is that my dreams might not be hers. There are many experiences we share and many activities we both enjoy but ultimately her wishes are very different from mine. So I surrender. It is all I can do. I can support her in the direction that she walks and only hope that she finds happiness each step of the way.
I love this girl more than I ever thought I could love. I never knew love until the day I had her and she continues to teach me everyday that I can love just that much more. I am proud of her and all that she does and I hope that I send that message through my words and my actions. I want her to know that she is my light, my world, MY DREAM.
