Childhoodtake2!

Every Friday we unite for five minutes to write on one word. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on leave.
Go.

There are moments,
there are times,
there are days,
when the shouting is too loud,
when the tantrums are one after the other,
when the two of you are constantly fighting,
over toys,
or who gets to put out the napkins,
or who touched/pushed/hit who...
when all I want to do, is leave.

Leave it all behind.
The noise,
the chaos,
the loud,
the mess,
the constant planning,
the schedules,
the to do lists
the control,
the budgeting,
the balls all in the air,
the responsibilities,
the tension.

And what would I miss?
What would I leave?

I would leave the nighttime routines.
I would leave the little girl that hugs me while reading and says "I love you mommy"
I would leave the family that on Sunday morning says "olive juice"
I would leave the little girl that holds my hand.
I would leave the little boy that screams for a hug (and a kiss).
I would leave the little boy that always reaches for me.
I would leave a family I fought for, wanted, begged to come to me.
I would leave the snuggles.
I would leave the smiles too.
I would leave the little girl that waits for me to say goodnight to her.
I would leave a little boy that has a two year old voice.
I would leave all the good,
I would leave the moments I will remember when I am dying, the ones that will stay with me forever.

Stop.

I look over at the five year old that is dying to be able to be a kid in her home again.
I see her anger and frustration of having only one space to play in, and all of her belongings under protective plastic.
I see her feet stomping,
and her need to run around.
I see how a new school schedule means less down time and she's tired,
she's confused,
and her tantrums, her behavior, are all out of control.

And, I see me.
I see that she gets her temper from me.
I see that my words are heard, my meltdowns are being reenacted, by a five year old.
I see that tempers, they do run in the family.

I look over at the two year old that is stuck.
He is being woken up early to leave daycare and pick up his sister.
He is tired,
his toys are gone,
his sister is in school.
He wants constant attention.
And, I just don't have the time.
And every time I remind him, I feel a part of me wish I could savor this more.
I realize how much I am going to miss this, how much I am going to want them around,
how much I am going to want them to want to be near me.

And, I see me.
I see that he gets his temper from me.
I see that my words are heard, my meltdowns are being reenacted, by a two year old.
I see that tempers, they do run in the family.

I look over at my person who is exhausted.
He is working all day, all night.
He is working as a teacher, a coach, on our house.
Weekends are all about work.
He is so tired his patience is vanished.
His natural joy, it too has vanished.

And, I see me.
I see that I have rubbed off on him.
I see that he has lost his patience because I never had any.
I see that he gets his temper from me.
I see that my words are heard, my meltdowns are being reenacted, by a thirty-five year old.
I see that tempers, they do run in the family.

But, we love anyway.
We know that love can fix it all.
The broken.
The tired.
The anger.
The tantrums.
The cries.
The fights.
Love runs in the family too.
Love gets passed down too.
Love runs deep.
Love is better.
Love reminds us of why.
Love takes us back to the beginning.
Love reminds us of how to move forward.
Love, fixes it all.

And then, I see me again.
I see the me that is so elated with you.
I see the me that taught you to say olive juice.
I see the me that taught you hugs, and smooches, and touching toes.
I see the me that taught you that if you allow yourself to feel it, love can fill your whole body,
and make you feel warm right down to your toes.
I see the me that taught you that we are a team, and we tackle it all, hand in hand.
I see the me that reminds you what this is all about.
I see me, in you.

Maybe it's because you're getting older.
Maybe it's because I am grown.
Maybe it's because I can start to see what it would be like to lose you.
Maybe it's because I am starting to realize how much you cared all along.
Maybe it's because I can see how much being around kids means to you.
Maybe it's because I can see how much you love them, in a way you couldn't love us.
Maybe it's because I found him and created them and I am seeing how hard this all is.
Maybe it's because I understand how much you need coping skills to do this.
Maybe it's because I can't imagine doing it the way you two did.
Maybe it's because I don't want to fight anymore.
Maybe it's because I don't want to hold on to anymore anger.
Maybe it's because it is all starting to melt.
Maybe it's because I can accept you for who you are.
Maybe it's because somewhere in all that tough and hardness, there is a soft human.
Maybe it's because you find a way to love, even if it is just your way.
Maybe it's because I won't let you define who I am.
Maybe it's because I did it my way too.
Maybe it's because I spent so much time away from you.
Maybe it's because we lost so many years.
Maybe it's because I left, and got clarity.
Maybe it's because I'm just tired.
Maybe it's because I can see you are too.
Maybe it's because I didn't want our story to end like that.
Maybe it's because I moved back.
Maybe it's because I am raising a family now.
Maybe it's because I found someone who melted my heart.
Maybe it's because I found a way to forgive,
even when an "I'm sorry" wasn't exchanged.
Maybe it's because we're all getting older...
and the fights don't matter anymore.
and the past can be let go.
and what happened back then doesn't define right now.
and you have found a way to happy.
and you have found some sort of peace,
and so have I.
But, I see you.
I see who you always wanted to be and didn't know how,
and didn't have the time to show.
I see how you want to be remembered.
I see how you want to care.
I see you.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes to write on one word. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on care.
Go.

About you,
and my family,
and my work,
and our puppy,
and our home,
and your future,
and my future,
and our lives,
and finding happiness.

I care about it all.
It is what drives me.

These past few months, I have needed care.
Lots of care.
I have lost myself in stress and illness and stress and mess and stress.
I have lost my heart,
I have lost who I am.
And all I need is a little care to come back.

I always feel that love can fix the broken,
love can put it all back together.
Because we all break.
And it's why I am in the line of work I am.
It is why I decided to be family with you.
It is why I decided to parent.
Because I believe that taking care of each other is important and necessary and what keeps us all together.

I made a choice to care about you.
I decided to live this life with you.
And, I carry that weight with me.
I carry you with me.

I care for you, I will always care for you.
Hand in hand, we take care of each other.

Stop.

It all started with adoption papers,
or a c-section,
or labor and wailing your way into the world.

It all started with the first time we held you,
and the first time we saw you smile and make incredible eye contact.

It all started with you holding our finger, your entire hand wrapping around our one finger.
It all started with your little fingers and toes.

It all started with nerves and not knowing how to bathe,
or feed
or dress
little you.

It all started with parenthood,
it all started with you.

It all started with little,
little clothes,
little noises,
little cries,
little body,
little you.

It all started with doctor appointments and worrying about weight gain
and how much you ate,
and how much you pooed.

It all started with cries, and wails and getting to know and recognize your sounds.
It all started with finding our rhythm,
our dance,
our routine.

It all started easy,
or not.
It all started with sleeping babies,
or not.
It all started with confident parents,
or not.
It all started with good eaters,
or not.
It all started with happy,
or not.
It all started with feeling complete,
or not.
It all started with closeness,
or loneliness or
or feeling overwhelmed by love and comfort,
or not.

It all started with parenthood,
it all started with you.

It all started with doubts about your decisions,
it all started with noise.
It all started with tired, and wanting and accepting.

It all started with scars, and bumps,
and marks, and recovery.
It all started with bodies we no longer recognize,
but somehow love more.

It all started with smiles, and looking at you in wonder,
it all started with insecurities and having moments of not liking you!
It all started with love,
the kind that fixes the broken.

It all started with cries,
and tears falling down faces...
yours and mine.
It all started with frustrations,
and words that become regrettable...
yours and mine.
It all started with losing yourself in the chaos,
and tantrums...
yours and mine.

It all started with parenthood,
it all started with you.

It all started with weight.
The weight of you,
the weight of family,
the weight of love,
the weight of carrying you in my heart.

It all started with family,
and how you defined it,
how you made us one,
how you made walls into a home.

It all started with love,
it all started with childhood,
and second chances.
It all started with parenthood,
it all started with you.

Because we parent...
we love,
we snuggle,
we kiss away the hurt,
we give out hugs,
we try,
we cry...with you, for you, because of you,
we wring out more energy when there is none,
we never take a sick day,
we never give up,
we love through the difficult times,
we continue to find strength in all of it,
we lean on each other,
we teach,
we comfort,
we build...you, your character, your future,
we hold on to your heart,
we take care of it all,
we worry,
we age,
we stay up trying to get it all done,
we love...so much love,
we fight,
we won't give up on you.

And in the end, we will all remember how it all began.
Because it all started with you.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes to write on one word. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on new.
Go.

It all started at 17.
I started over, I went off on my own and I started all over again.
When I left, I was so angry, so determined to prove something to all of them.
I left and never wanted to look back, just start over, start something new.

And then, I met a new family.
A family of woman who continue to be good for my soul.
And somehow, through them and our shared laughter and experiences, the angry started to melt.

And then I met my person.
And the thought of my own family started to become a reality.
And the anger melted even more.

By the time I made my way back, this wasn't the same place I grew up in.
I had a different mind set, a different feel.
I was here with him, we were starting and continuing us.
We created them, and the memories that last a life time.

And each time we start something new, something fresh, we do it hand in hand.
With the family that we were born with and the family we created around us.
It is how we are defined.
And love fixes the broken and with the right amount,
we can start over and create something new.

Stop.