Annessa: My Prayer for You in the New Year

Dear Annessa,

I love you so much it hurts.  You have become a girl overnight (how did that happen??).  Gone is the toddler that used to climb on everything and dance in the yard wearing last year's halloween costume.  Any trace of baby, toddler, even preschooler is gone.  Now you do things that girls do.  You do wonderful, delightful things like teach your little sister animal sounds and write in your diary.  You laugh and sing and dream about meeting Katy Perry.

You roll your eyes.  You look at me like I am crazy.  You have even written me a note that, dare I admit it, says, "I hate you" - only to crumple it up minutes later and tell me you didn't mean it.  But still.  That's what I remember doing when I was a little girl.  I was so jealous of my cousin's relationship with La-La that I wrote little "I hate you" notes to my aunt and left them all over La-La's house (they were living with La-La at the time).  Of course I didn't really hate them, but when you are little, sometimes the gray area feelings that have nothing to do with anyone but how you feel about yourself are hard to describe.

Anyway…..This girl stuff scares me.  It's true what "they" say about parenting getting harder as your kids get older.  You are becoming your own person.  So wonderful.  So smart.  So individual.  And so mine.  I feel like Daddy and I are the guardians of your heart right now.  Our words have the power to build you up or tear you down.  In large part, your sense of self comes from how we are choosing to raise and parent you right now.  And to be honest, that scares the (shit) out of me.

So, my prayer for you in this new year actually has nothing (yet everything) to do with you. I pray that Daddy and I will "show up" for you every day.  That we will hear God when He tells us how to respond to your tears, your anger, your sadness and your joy.  He knows your heart the best. My prayer is that we build you up with our words and actions.  That we are worthy examples of how to live in a Godly way.

Being a girl is scary.  There are lots of people out there saying you need more of this, less of that, bigger this or smaller that.  But, if we can show up for you everyday,  then maybe you will discover that you are enough.

You always were enough and you always will be enough.

A Bucket of Pain

Pain.  Does it ever really get better?  Or, do we just get better at covering it up?  On the anniversary of a tragedy (a life-changing injury or the death of someone in your inner circle, a divorce….the list could go on and on), well-meaning people tend to say something like, "I hope that the pain gets less and less with each passing year," or, "Time heals all pain."

But I kinda have a problem with that.  Those kinds of sentences (despite the person's good intentions) implies that pain is something that vanishes over time.

Like, your pain is in a bucket and with each passing year, you take a scoop of pain out.  If you follow that logic, then at some point, depending on how much pain there was to begin with, the bucket would be empty.  You would be pain-free.

But that's not how I see it.  Deep, dark pain - the kind of pain that changes every aspect of your life - never goes away.  It doesn't get easier with each passing year.  Not a day goes by that you are not reminded of what was lost.  Sure, in the beginning, you probably cried yourself to sleep.  Maybe even hated the world and the way everyone in it just went about their day as if nothing even happened while you were so overcome by tragedy that you could barely move. Or speak. Or think.

That's in the beginning.  After the beginning, when everyone assumes you have moved on and adjusted to the "new normal," that damn pain is still there.  It's always there.  You just make a Choice to move forward with life.

Sometimes the Choice to move on is the most painful thing of it all.

It makes it seem like it doesn't matter.  Like you're okay with the way things are.

But, we all know that is not true.  We're not okay with the way things are.  But, what Choice do we have?  Lay in bed all day and let our kids grow up without a mom or a dad?  Lose our jobs?  Drink?  Sure, those things might happen.  But then we wake up and realize that it's time to join the rest of the world.  The rest of the stupid world that is moving on with their days.

Except, what if the "rest of the world" is hiding pain too, just making it through the day?   What if everyone is making a Choice to put their bucket of pain on a shelf and rejoin society?  That's what I think.  Everyone has pain.  The pain doesn't go away.  Deep down, it's there, and all it takes is a song, a memory, and smell to bring it back to the surface.  As if all of the living you've been doing never happened and you're right back at the scene of the crime - when your life was split into two parts.

Before and After.

But then the phone rings, the kids call or the light turns green and we quickly push the bucket back on the shelf, and rejoin the After.

Because, after all, what Choice do we have? 

Dear Annessa,

Tomorrow is the first day of first grade.  You will have kids in your class that you know well from last year, and there will be kids in your class that you don't know well.  Your daddy and I want you to know that God puts people in our lives as gifts to us.  People make us laugh, they are there when we feel sad, and they are there when we want to have fun.  But most of all, God puts certain people in our lives so that we can learn from them.  Annessa, the kids in your class this year, they are God's gifts to you. They will teach you things about yourself and about the world.

There will be times when someone is being teased and your heart will feel sad.  That is God saying, "Wake up, Annessa! one of my children is hurting!  You need to help!"  And you will listen to God and go sit by the classmate that is being teased or ask someone without a friend to play with you.

But, there will be times when someone is feeling sad and you don't step in.  You don't ask her to play or offer to share your snack.  When you get home, you might still be thinking about how you wish you would  have done something to help.

Daddy and I want you to know that it's okay to make mistakes like that.  The feeling you have of "I wish I would have…." is God whispering to you that you will get it right next time. Or, you can tell your teacher and then us - we are all on your team.

You see honey, you don't have to be the smartest person in class.  You don't have to spell every single word right or solve every math problem perfectly.  It's okay to make mistakes.  We will still love you.

What's really important is that you listen to God - He is that kind thought you have, or the feeling you get when you need to help someone.  God is in your heart, wherever you go.  He will help you make decisions and help you admit when you make a mistake.

Your daddy and I love you so much and we are proud of the girl you are.

Love,
Mama and Daddy

Lost Teeth

Annessa has been on a tooth losing spree.  She loses her teeth in two ways: first out of her mouth, and then she literally loses them.  She talks to them and carries them with her the day that they fall out, knowing that tomorrow, the Tooth Fairy will come and whisk them away forever.

Freakin' Tooth Fairy.

So far, out of the four that have fallen out, two have made it into the Tooth Fairy's hands.  Never mind that I have know idea what I, the Tooth Fairy, am supposed to do with these two teeth.  It seems a little….morbid?….to keep a box of tiny teeth hidden away somewhere.  And what if she find this box? Then everything will unravel -- the Tooth Fairy, then Santa, the Easter Bunny, Elf on the Stupid Shelf, leprechauns….

So, what did I do with these two remaining teeth?  I (gasp) Threw. Them. Away.  It's tough love people.

But, with each tooth that falls out, I can't help but think, "Here's another piece of childhood.  Gone.  You better get your shit together."

She will be in first grade in a month.  Kids remember stuff from first grade.  Childhood (in their minds) starts somewhere around 1stish grade.  And all I can think of is that it is halfway over already.

In another seven years, she will be a teenager.  We have seven years left to shape her childhood.  I want her to remember a house full of love and fun.  Expectations, of course, but love and fun.

So that means I need to get my shit together.  I need to plan fun trips, traditions, playdates…..Wait.  No.

I need to get my shit together in a different way.  Pancake mornings, smartphone-free days, walks in the woods, popcorn in bed.  I need to resist the urge to feel pressured and hurried and over-booked.  I need to breath her in every day.  I need to honor the girl that she is and nurture the one she is becoming.

Because before I know it, all of these tiny teeth will be replaced by big, akward-looking jaggity ones.  Then, my job will be to help her smooth out the jaggity ones during adolescent years.  Childhood will be a thing of the past, and middle school will be upon us.

I think I will crawl back in bed and snuggle her awhile.

Wedding Dresses, Husbands, and Work

An entry I found saved as a "draft" from a few months ago….

Today I watched my youngest sister-in-law try on her wedding dress.  She was gorgeous and beaming in bridal beauty.  We fussed over the details of the dress, tried on lots of bridesmaids dresses (and ended up with one that doesn't look "bridesmaidy" at all).  In this situation, every married woman probably flashes back to the day she picked out her own wedding gown.  Whether it was a sundress pulled from the back of our closet or a designer creation, we had a feeling - "This is it." For some of us, it was a confident declaration, and for others of us, it sounded more like, "This is it.  I think.  Right?"

If we were to be completely honest, choosing a husband is no different.  Some of us are confidently sure that he is THE ONE.  While others (a fewer camp, I'm sure) would say, "Honestly, I had a few questions in my mind…"

During all of the preparations that led up to my wedding, people said things like, "Marriage is work,"
 and, "You have to be willing to put in more that you will get in return."  I thought they were crazy, jaded wives who had clearly lost touch of the romance and butterflies that I would surely ALWAYS feel.

But, those old married women?  Yeah.  They were telling the truth.  Marriage is work.  Not work in the sense that your back will be sore, but work in the sense that your mind and heart and soul will be sore at times.

But, for the right one, it's all worth it.  

A Woman's Never-ending Battle

So, I wrote this a year ago, and I'm still not sure I have the answers….I guess it's a never-ending battle. 

May 14th, 2013

I like this font.  I never use it, but it reminds me of the “good ole days” for some reason.  Maybe that’s because it’s called typewriter and I equate typewriters with the days when women were stay-at-home moms and if they ventured out of the house, it was to be some man’s secretary.

I know what I am about to say is very controversial, but it’s where I am in my life right now.  I used to think women could do it all – be a great wife, mother, friend, family member, and have a high-powered career too.  That was before I became a mom of two young girls.  That was BEFORE I stopped lying to myself.  In reality, Ann Taylor suits DO NOT contain super-power threads that enable working moms to do everything well, even though Kate Hudson makes it look that way.

Now I think “having it all” robs you of your sanity.  Women today are TIRED.  We are crying out for purpose and, well, sleep. 

As a full-time, working mom, I feel like my life is defined by one word – hurry.  Hurry and get everyone out of the door on time.  Hurry to make it past the railroad tracks before that stupid train comes through (seriously – there isn’t a better time for a train then 7:16 am when the world is scrambling to get to work?  I mean, have some courtesy!).  Hurry to go to the bathroom before the bell rings (I’m a teacher).  Hurry to get dinner on the table before soccer.  Hurry to get in the tub after soccer because 9:00 bedtime  = bitchy kid in the morning.  Then Whew – lie down and do it all over again.

Where is the time to linger?  To reflect?  To grow?  As a woman, we’d like to think that the bulk of the child-rearing doesn’t fall on us – that’s it’s a team effort, but come on.  Have you ever seen this 50/50 crap done successfully?  Could it be that by trying to have it all, we really don’t have anything? Okay – that’s a harsh statement, but what I mean is, we are so divided that maybe the sum of the parts doesn’t equal a full, content life.

I think we are caught between decades, trying to figure out if a “balance” exists.  We don’t want to kick it all the way back to the 40s and 50s where in order to be heard, we had to speak through our men, yet this year-2000s pace is tiring us out. 

So, what’s the answer?  I have no frickin’ idea.  Don’t have kids if you want a career?  Don’t have a career if you want kids?  Both seem so….so….anti-something. 

Then, to top it all off, our greatest calling is to be disciples.  That’s our real purpose on Earth.  Because this life as we know it is here today, gone tomorrow.  Maybe we need to have an eternal perspective first, then fit in the earthly stuff.  What does that look like?  I’m not sure.  Probably different for everyone.  That’s the sucky part.  There is no clear pattern that women “should” follow.  Follow our guts, I guess, and live life so that in ten years, we won’t look back on this decade of our lives wishing we could go back and change our priorities.