Proud Mama

This year Ethan has decided to try his luck at wrestling. With him being such a tender heart and kind soul I was worried this wouldn't turn out well. He'd been practicing for a few weeks, and then it was time, his first wrestling match. We rounded up the family and headed up to school. When we pulled in the neighborhood where the school was located, it was so dark, the power was out, the wrestling match was canceled. Ethan was very disappointed to say the least. A week later we tried again. Unfortunately Ron had a meeting out of town and wasn't able to get back before our sons first match.

We entered the gym at the high school and I was afraid to let the kids out of my sight. It was organized chaos! I was so nervous. Slowly my backup started to show up; my Mom, Jess, JD, Kenna, and luckily I ran into some great friends, Waylann & Brooke, who were there with their son River. Ethan was paired up with another kid the same size as him and sent out onto the mat. It wasn't going so good, he was losing, and then in a matter of seconds, Ethan had the kid in a cradle and pinned him. I was shocked and proud. His second match didn't end so well, he was pinned.

The Proud Mama part came not from him winning, but from watching his sportsmanship. After his first match his shook his opponents hand and gave him the one armed hug. In between matches he looked up in the stands and saw a kid crying, and asked me to excuse him, ran up the bleachers and sat down with the upset kid. When I asked what he said, he told me the kid was upset he lost his first match, but Ethan told him it was ok and that he still had another match. After his second match, after being pinned, he was visibly upset, but still shook his opponents hand and then walked over to his opponents father and shook his hand.

I hadn't realized how grown up he has become. Sometimes you have to step back and let them show you, and I hadn't given him the chance. He continually surprises me. I hope he knows how proud both his father and I are of him.

Uncle Pete

While this blog is my way to share, it's really my way to put the ramblings in my mind down on virtual paper, so to say. It's how I'm able to clear the cobwebs from the rafters in this head of mine. I have an uncle who once told me that sharing on the internet was just inviting people to snoop into your life, that it's a disregard for the privacy we've come to hold dear. He once told me that if I ever posted a picture of him on the internet, on my "damn blog or the damn facebook" he'd stop speaking to me. We'll I sure hope that's not the case.
You see it's time for me to share about my dear Uncle Pete, whom I love and cherish more than he knows. I have several uncles and aunts and they all have a special place in my heart, I have stories about each of them and memories that I wouldn't give for anything. My Uncle Pete is one of those guys that says it how he sees it, who can come accross as mean and gruf. He always means well, even if that's not how it feels.
When I was a child, Pete was scary, with his no nonsense attitude. Yes I have memories of him that I'd rather forget, because he did scare me, but I have plenty since then that I hold dear. The first memory of him I cherish is one of my favorites, one the I think changed my life forever for the better.

I was about nineteen and working at a dentist office, his dentist. One morning he came in, and on his way out he told my boss that he was taking me to breakfast. It was probably the first time we had been alone together. I went, worried about what he was going to say to me, knowing there must be something that was on his mind. Sure enough, over breakfast he proceeded to tell me that I was angry inside, that I needed to forgive my Dad for leaving when I was little (another story, another time). He told me that no matter what the reason, whether it was right or wrong, unless I let go of the anger I was never going to find happiness. He said that he only wanted me to be happy, but for that to happen I was going to have to remember the love I had for my Dad, and never be the one to "blame". Which meant I had to send cards, I had to call and write, even if he didn't respond. He reminded me that I was worth a fathers love, even if I didn't feel worthy. When he dropped me back off at work I was in tears, but not because I was afraid, but because he was able to knock down a wall that I had built around my heart, that I thought would protect me, but was only isolating me from love.

This wasn't the only time he had to speak frankly to me, even about this subject, but over the years we've built a relationship I treasure. I'm not sure if I've completely let go of all that anger, but he did help me open up enough to find love. I thank him for helping me with that. I believe that without his brutal honestly I would have pushed true love away, instead of letting myself be vulnerable, and that would have been a mistake.

Right now my Uncle Pete is lying in a hospital bed and I wish I could be there with him. The last message he left for me said "get your asses down here, no excuses", we didn't go. I hope I don't end up hating myself forever for that. And I hope he doesn't disown me for posting this or his picture.

I love you Uncle Pete. Thank you for being here for me and my kids. Thank you for telling me how it is. Thank you for loving me like you do. I hope to see you very soon!

What if....

We’ve all done it, played the game, asked the question, thought of the scenario, fantasized about what it would be like; you know “what would I do if I won the lottery”. What would you do first? Faint, go on a shopping spree, and maybe call your biggest frenemie to rub it in? What would you do? Move into a bigger more elaborate house, go on vacation, and buy every pair of shoes that call your name?

I am more of a practical girl, almost insanely practical, so let me tell you what I’ve always said. Of course, the first thing I’d do is call a good lawyer and a financial advisor. After that was taken care of and I had paid a substantial amount of taxes, I would pay off every bill we had and put money in trust accounts for the kids. I would have to buy all the shoes that called my name, because that is my obsession. I would take my family on the most amazing and humbling vacation, somewhere we could relax, bond, make memories, and make a difference.

This is where the “fantasy” of winning the lottery goes terribly amiss, donating to charity. Not because I wouldn’t want to donate, more of the thought of deciding; picking one charity as a more worthy cause, how do you do that? How do you decide which cause is more important? Would you give your money to help feed starving children or would you give your money to help find cures for diseases killing loved ones? Would you donate for people who have become disabled fighting for our great nation or to the abused animals who cannot fend for themselves? Would you provide shelter for someone less fortunate or give a dying child his or her biggest wish? Do you try to help save the planet or the people of a dying nation? Do you contribute to help spread the word about the atrocities being committed around the world or do you dig in, starting with your own community and hope it will spread?

Yes, I’ve always had my chosen charities when it comes to donating, because they have special meaning to me. It’s not much, but if my donations are added to everyone else’s donations, it makes a difference. I want a cure for Cancer, a cure for MS, a cure for Alzheimer’s and I want transplants to be affordable to anyone who needs them. Every child should have every opportunity available, regardless of money. I hate the thought of anyone going hungry or anyone sleeping in the cold. I hate the thought that out there in world kids are forced to work to help provide because there are no other options. I hate the terms “child abuse”, “sex slavery”, “blood diamond”, and “ethnic cleansing”, to name a few. So how would I choose? Just the thought makes me anxious.

I’m so thankful I haven’t won the lottery!

Bragging Moment

I am so proud of both of my kids, for all the things they do. Right now I want to share Ethan's great artistic ability. He's always loved to draw and everytime he brings something home, and I'll always have that little feeling like he maybe "traced" a picture, but then he'll start to draw in front of me and I'll be in awe. It's so natural and it just flows from him. I thought I'd share some of the recent favorites.

I'm not sure who this is..but I'm sure its a cartoon character.

He went through a couple weeks of "perfecting" his flames.

Yes, he was so bored one day he even drew his shoe.

Of course he had to take a shot at drawing "The Last AirBender".
And now he says he's drawing his own comic book. Here are a couple of his drawings (looks a little like other cartoon characters, but with a little Ethan in there).
Love you Ethan!!

We need to stop Bullies

Recently in the news there have been a rash of stories about suicides directly related to bullying.

Pheobe Prince-15 years old

April Himes-13 years old

Jared High-13 years old

Ryan Halligan-14 years old

Daniel Scruggs-12 years old

Laura Rhodes-13 years old

Joshua Melo-15 years old

Kasey Hone-16 years old

James Rogers-16 years old

Tyler Clementi-18 years old

Hope Witsell-13 years old

"name withheld"-10 year old Boston Girl

Asher Brown-13 years old

Seth Walsh-13 years old

The list could go on and on..when I put "bully" "suicide" in google search it brought up over four thousand matches!

It's been overwhelming to say the least. When I was growing up a bully was someone who teased you on the playground at recess, someone who yelled profanities at you from the other side of the road, someone who gave up after the taunting yielded little to no results, and most fortunate for any of us, someone who "disappeared" when we entered our santuary called home. Nowdays, with all of the available technology, bullying is so much more, and unfortunately even being home is not a safe haven for these victims. They get harassed with texts, emails, facebook, even with websites created just for bullying.

I've found similarities in these "bullicide" stories; the kids were liked, smart, gentle and nice. Some put on a brave smile and never mentioned the bullying, most tried to tell someone, but found no help was enough. These bullies have lost respect for not only their victims, but also for anyone in authority; parents, teacher, even police. There have also been stories of adults, the victims parents confronting these bullies, and the parents are the ones getting in trouble. They have been ticketed and some even arrested for threatening these bullies, "verbal assualt"; isn't that exactly what these bullies are doing to their victims? Why can't they be issued citations for assualt?

In this house I'm going to make sure my kids know they are loved, that they can come to me no matter what, they will know that they need to accept people for who they are-with no judgement, that everyone deserves to have a happy life. I will continue to talk to them about bullying and hope that in their lives and the lives around them, it makes a difference. I hope you'll do the same.

Honestly I don't know what the answer is but I do know we all need to stand together to stop bullies and the bullying that goes on these days!

This is a wonderful website for parents and kids http://stopbullyingnow.hrsa.gov/kids/

My opinion on the fire!

Several years ago there was a news story about houses being “red flagged” by the fire department, meaning if a fire were to come close to the house, there were to be no extra efforts from the fire departments to save the property. The homeowners were furious and at first, I thought it was ridiculous; isn’t that their job! But the more I looked into it and the more I thought about it, it made perfect sense. These houses that were “red flagged” were houses built on the mountain side, surrounded by trees and overgrown brush, they were difficult to get to and most likely any fire involving these homes would be too dangerous for any firefighter to fight.

I realized that there is a price to be paid when you live in such a beautifully secluded and peaceful place. Having family and friends that fight fires, including in this specific area, I agree, no human life is worth a home or property.

Unfortunately, even after the stories of the “red flagging”, people continued to build their homes in the same area, yes, it cleared trees and brush, but they didn’t take into account the houses were still on rugged terrain and the other side of the mountain was still brush and trees. These houses are amazing, all the newest and greatest upgrades and accessories; houses to be envied.

That is, until two weeks ago when a mixture of a stray bullet from target practice, dry brush, and high winds turned into a nightmare. We watched on the newscast as flames headed towards these beautiful neighborhoods. I worried about friends and family who live in the area, I worried about the horses that live in the area, hoping their owners were able to have enough time to get them safely out, and most importantly, I was worried about the family and friends I have who are firefighters and all their coworkers who were headed right to the center of it all.

Usually when horrific things happen, people band together, but that first night, I knew I would not be “banding” together with some of these homeowners. I watched as they were interviewed by reporters, as they complained about the lack of response from the emergency dispatchers, about the firefighters not doing enough to save property, they complained about being evacuated with not enough time to get their belongings. I literally had to take some deep breathes to calm myself.

On the second day of this massive undertaking, which by the way the “red flagging” had no bearing on, I called my Aunt to check on her, knowing her husband, my Uncle, a firefighter, would most likely be right in the middle of it all, and I was right. He was in the middle of it all, but not in the way I though. He probably wishes he was in his turnouts, sweating in the heat, fighting flames; but he was getting heat from homeowners, understandably upset about the fire. Upset about losing property, losing cars, having smoke damage, not being allowed back in their homes, etc. They were literally in his face over these things! I was furious, knowing that these firefighters are risking their lives and still people were angry. I know that the homeowners yelling at my Uncle were only a small percentage of the residents affected by this tragic event, but to think that even one person felt this way was disheartening.

I hope people take a few minutes to appreciate their local emergency services; police officers, firefighters, EMT’s, etc. They really are angels on earth. Just take a look at the miracle they managed with this house below.

Followup: Last night on the news there are stories of some homeowners fraudulently filing claims for thousands of dollars for bogus “cleanings” and property loses. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!

Back in the "Saddle"

At the beginning of the racing season Ethan had a little mishap. He broke his collarbone and it took him out for at least seven weeks. Eight weeks later, I was ready to go watch my son ride his dirtbike and enjoy himself, but that wasn't the case. The longer he was off the bike, the harder it was for him to get back on. It's like that saying about "getting right back on the horse", well unfortunately he didn't have that option. The longer he was able to sit and think about what had happened, or more importantly, what could have happened the harder it was to get him on the bike.
I didn't want to push him, I'm not that kind of a Mom. But I didn't want to let his fear control him either. So there I was stuck between being the "stage mom" and the mom who would forever regret her decision to let her son quit because of "the fear". I had to find a way to get him riding again without being pushy.
A couple weeks ago Ron took him riding at a local field they practice at. He said he had fun, but also said the Ethan had told him he didn't want to race anymore. Sure, a part of me was a little sad. Racing is something he has done for five years. The excitement of the Friday night racing, the comradery of the families at the track, watching him ride and jump, it's something that can't really be described, but it was sort of our summer tradition.
If he really wanted to quit, that would be his decision, not ours. But I still wasn't convinced it wasn't because of "the fear".
Two weeks ago we attended my companies summer party and happened to run into one of my coworkers who 2 year old son had just fallen off the couch and broken his collarbone. It was the perfect opportunity for me to bring up the subject with Ethan. I explained to him that life is unpredictible in so many ways, that his collarbone could have been broken by rolling off his bed at night while he's sleeping, as much as it was by the dirtbike crash. I told him we knew it would be scary, and the longer he waited the harder it would be. And I left it at that knowing he would ponder it and come to us if he wanted to talk.
It didn't take long, only a few days later he started talking about racing again. We didn't push, we let him talk without jumping completely on the bandwagon. We encouraged him to do what he felt was right without making him feel judged. And it worked. He came to us earlier this past week and said he was ready to race, and as luck would have it, there was a race the next Friday. Ron took him to practice and when they came home he said he's never seen Ethan ride like he did. He said it was amazing! The next day we went through our race day rituals, getting off work early packing the kids up and heading to the track. Everything seemed different, even the people were different, it seemed like it had been years, not months.

We told Ethan there was no pressure, he didn't need to feel like he needed to push himself to win. Each moto he came off the track smiling and happy. He enjoyed himself, and as a bonus, at the end of the night, left with a 2nd place trophy!

It may have taken longer than we thought, but he's "back in the saddle" and enjoying himself. He's already talking about the next race.

I find it rather ironic how death is a part of life. Isn’t that some sort of oxymoron? You could say that I have been to more than my fair share of funerals. Yet with all the experience I’ve had mourning you’d think I wouldn’t keep needing reminders of what is truly important in life.

Without getting to in depth in my beliefs, I do know that there is more than this life and I will see those departed again. What I find so hard is in knowing that their presence will forever be missing from the rest of my life. There will be no more new memories, what I have is what I get and that is final.

I’ve watched how people mourn and how they move on. I’ve watched the inconsolable mourning of those who believe there is nothing after this life and I’ve watched the joy of seeing a much suffering soul “move on” from those who believe in heaven and an afterlife. I’ve seen spouses who won’t change a thing after their significant other has passed and those that immediately feel the need to fill a void and find someone new. I’ve seen those who have been stronger then anyone thought and lived years after losing their soul mate, and those who have been so broken hearted they pass away shortly after. I’ve watched children bury their parents and parents bury their children. I’ve been to funerals of people who have died “naturally” and those who have left this world before their time. Each of the departed has their personal story but the passing is still as heartbreaking as the last.

Why write about this now? Last night as my Brother and I stood at the headstones of several family members; our Grandparents, a cousin, and a cousin’s son, I was reminded of what is important.

Today my cousin will bury her son no doubt right next to his brother. Her son, a young man, not yet in his prime, a father to children who I saw running around last night, knowing their Dad is gone, but really too young to know what that really means. I watched my cousin in sheer agony of the loss of a second child; no parent should have to bury any of their children, let alone two. I felt the loss of this young man whom I had not seen in a couple years, but luckily do have fond memories of, I just wish I had more. But I must hold onto the ones I have, and they will have to keep me satisfied.

I hope this rambling is a nudge to everyone, a reminder of what is important. You can replace things, but you can’t replace people, you must work to live, but don’t live to work. It’s important to build memories that you can hold onto, pictures in your mind and in your heart. Because you never know when it will be the last time you see someone, and the memories you have is all you get to keep.

One returns to the place one came from.
- Jean de la Fontaine

Summer Plans

Is it really July? Really?? I can't believe how fast time flys by. I was really hoping to slow down this summer, to spend more time enjoying my family and friends. Cherishing what is important, making memories that will linger for years to come. I've yet to even begin making plans to do anything of the sort, and I just don't know why. We haven't taken the boat out, we haven't even taken the top off the Blazer! It's like we haven't gotten into the summer groove, like we're waiting to be invited by some magical "summer fairy".

I want this summer to one the kids remember. Ethan is getting older, and pretty soon hanging out with his family is going to be more of a duty and obligation, rather then something he looks forward to. I remember being his age, you know the summer before 6th grade, the last "elementary" summer, wow, that was a fun summer. I want him to remember his the same. And this is Sophia's last summer before she starts school "full-time". Lots of changes are coming our way and I think it's really time for us to slow down and really enjoy this time together.

Here's a list of things I'm thinking of planning:

• Camping trip with Ronnie and the kids
• Lots of boating weekends
• Trip to a good friends wedding....YAY~Sienna and Zack
• Trip to my wonderful Grandma's "40th" birthday LOL...I won't spill the beans on her age!
• A few days here and there with each of the kids on there own, for special days
• Maybe a little trip for me and Ronnie in there somewhere, just the two of us (we deserve it)

Let me know if you have any other great ideas for me...I'm open to suggestions.

Picking Role Models

Ethan is growing up and there is nothing I can do about it, except make sure he grows up to be a great adult. I've tried to make sure he never really looks up to sports players or musicians as idols, it's like fools gold, really nothing worthwhile to offer. At times he's spent time looking up to Ronnie, or my cousin Chandler, or his Grandpa, or his Uncle Monte, which is all fine with me. But lately he's been looking up to Kenny, my cousin Bree's boyfriend. And I'll admit, he's probably one of the coolest guys we've met in a long time. He's got his "stuff" together, but he's still "cool" (is that even the term used these days). He owns a skateshop and Ethan admires him and looks up to him. He even wrote out an invitation to Kenny for his birthday party.

I've sufficiently apologized numerous times to Kenny, because I feel like Ethan is pestering him, after all, he is a 30 year old man, who owns a skateshop that gets bombarded with kids daily, all he needs is a kid bugging him on his time off. He is constantly telling me that I shouldn't be apologizing, that Ethan is "cool", but like he'd say any different right, at least to my face. I guess he really means it because I heard that he actually told someone that he couldn't wait to have kids, and he hopes they are just like Ethan, because that kid is awesome. I'm so glad Ethan has picked out role models that I believe will really show him responsibility and morals, and he is choosing good ones on his own.

Do you think a sports star would actually take the time to say that about a kid that admired them? Highly unlikely and probably wouldn't be the best role models either.

Ethan has found a good one. Thank you Kenny!