Faces of Love

The boys are really becoming hams for the camera.

Soldier Boy

Since Jason has been Iraq, Elijah's fascination with dinosaurs and Star Wars has transformed itself into major battles of the world. So, we've been watching World War I, World War II, Civil War, ancient battles, you name it. And at home, he and Isaiah play the combat medic.

You Spin Me

The boys were playing on the swing after running through the sprinklers -- Well, mostly Isaiah. And the camera was handy, so another video we made.

Bye Bye Bitterness

You know, I’ve written several times about how spring and fall make me want to get in contact with people that I knew from the past. And this spring was no different. When I was 19, I met a boy named Craig. Craig was / is gay – and I was, well, for lack of a better word, stupid. But this is not about rehashing all that old crap – suffice it say that many people get married and then get divorced and then get married again. I was a fag hag, lost the fag, and then got married. Really, it all equals the same.

I don’t know about other people, normal people. But for me, there was really always this part of me that felt dissatisfied or unresolved. Sure there was anger and bitterness to get through (some at him, some at me). But when that had been waded through, and faded, there was still a part of me that missed that time in my life. Does that make sense. Not so much that I missed him, but that I missed things that I used to do. And when you are codependent and obsessive with one person for 10 years, well that’s a big chunk of time.

For example, we used to play Nintendo, board games, read the same books and watch the same shows on television. There as a connection of similar interests there. Those are things that I really enjoy, and I have been patiently waiting for my children to grow (slyly buying board games and the like) so that when they were older, we could play together. But, it’s a long time to wait. And really, heigh-ho cherry-o isn’t what I had in mind when I was thinking of playing board games (or chutes and ladders, and definitely not candyland). And I suppose, if I were a normal person like everyone else, I’d probably have other friends who did those things and then that void would have been adequately filled. But I’ve not ever been much on having lots of friends or doing things with people on my free time. That’s not to say that I feel that Craig is the only person with whom to do those things – but he’s the person I associate with those activities.

And, if I’m to be perfectly honest, and uncensored, there’s a part of me that feels like making contact with Craig is this whole dirty little secret sort of thing. It would be like Jodi coming up and saying that she and Lance had started to correspond and be friends. And I’d look at her as if she had lost her fricking mind – what is she nuts? But then again, Mom and Dad are now friends – driving to the doctor together, sharing stroke stories, comparing frailties and ailments and abilities. And that only took them some 10 years or so to make the first steps (I’m comfortable in your presence) and the next 20, I can spend time with you on the holidays, to the present, really, a FFO – fine, but I’m taking my own car or I shall most likely kill someone before we reach our destination. So, there it is. I think that Craig and I will be friends again – maybe – at the very least he’ll be on my email list to forward silly things to – and on the other hand, we might hang out (which still feels a little weird in my head when I say it).

I can definitively say this – it does feel nice to not have the bitterness or anger. And it feels weird to give myself permission to be o.k. with that – You know what I mean, when you break up with someone and 3 weeks later, even though you don’t want to get back together, you still want to call – but you know if you do it could all go horribly wrong and that everyone will think that you are some weak willed ninny whose life if falling miserably apart – what a LOSER. I don’t want people to think that I’m that girl or that person. And piss on it if they do, I guess. It is what it is. And for those of you who are concerned about this new step --- rest assured that I still whole heartedly dislike Mrs. Lawler from 11th Street and hope that she, in all her incompetent glory, falls flat on her face – or should KARMA have a greater demise in store for her, then I would gladly watch that one as well. Of course that bitterness has only been resting for a year – and it’s most closely related to someone taking away a favorite toy – I loved my job and that hateful woman ruined it for me. But perhaps, I shall be inspired and become a nationally recognized teacher (ha ha – as if, I’m way to lazy to do all the work entailed – those teachers come into the building on weekends and stay late every day, and make an effort to talk to parents – I’m not there yet—and by the time that the boys are grown and gone, I will be too tired to go there – so mother of the year will have to do).

And now, I’m done with the rant rave and tentative exposure. We’ll just have to see what happens.

Spring

There are seasons in the year that make me yearn for yesterday. Usually, it’s spring or fall. I don’t know what it is about the first warm days of spring, with the faint breezes and the green leaves bursting forth that takes me back to my childhood, but it does. There is this bird that begins to sing in the spring. I don’t know what kind of bird it is, but to me it always sounds like the old hinges on the swings at school – that odd sort of creaking that isn’t unpleasant, but simply a playground sound. And after going to the bird song web site (http://www.learnbirdsongs.com/) I can’t find the one song - because each one that I click on sounds like the playground to me – so maybe it’s just the spring sounds, and being back outside. (although, it may be a robin or cardinal – but I don’t hear it in the winter even though I see those birds)

It’s during the spring and fall that I will invariably try to get in touch with people from my past. It is during that time that I wonder what happened to people I used to know. And sometimes I find them, and sometimes, I don’t. And sometimes it’s awkward, and sometimes it’s not.

As a mother, spring is a time to create new memories for my children. To find a way to awaken them to the simple pleasures of life – which gets harder with each passing year and the conveniences of the modern world. When I was little, I thought nothing of swimming in the pond. It was water when it was hot and it was close. But you couldn’t pay me to get inside a pond and swim now. I used to like to walk up creeks, look at crayfish or try to catch them – or perhaps more often than not put my hand down to catch one then jump out of the way when it looked like I just might do it. The first one is always, but always the hardest. The first one is the one you have to talk yourself into. After that, it’s really not so hard. And by far, crayfish are no where as creepy as crabs (giant hard shelled spiders is what those things are). And now, sometimes I think how much the boys would enjoy something like that – and my mommy brain conjures up having to rush from said creek to the emergency room because Isaiah’s left arm has been nearly amputated by a snake. That and not really knowing any places that have said little creeks that aren’t guarded by crazy, toothless people with guns. Who knew that being a mommy would give you a whole new set of fears to overcome – or make the old ones that you thought you had overcome hit you all over again. And when it comes to that, what is about being a human that makes us want to recreate memories for our children. I’d like to take my kids to Current River in Missouri, or to Ava. Those were places that I thought were magic when I was little. And I want my sons to have a wow place like that. On the other hand, I don’t really want to go back and ruin the memory for myself – what if it turns out to be nothing more but a whole in the wall, some skanky place that my older, snobbier self wouldn’t want to touch? How badly would that suck?

So, as I work my way through this mire of wants and cans, I do my best. And, to my credit, I do take lots of pictures and then set them to music – which makes even the crappiest event look special – seriously!

brothers

Yesterday, Elijah and Isaiah were playing army men in the living room. Army men has been a frequent game lately with Jason in Iraq. They had pieced together juice box boxes and 12pk sodas and strung them across the kitchen and living room with chairs and what not and had created a bridge. Elijah got tired of the game and moved on to bigger and better things, but Isaiah wasn't quite ready. So, Isaiah came back to the room and told on Elijah because Elijah wouldn't play bridge with him. And when I said that it was o.k., Elijah didn't have to play every game that he played, Isaiah responded with, "but, he's my best friend."

Now, there are a couple of little miracles here. One is that my child who was mostly unintelligble some 7 months ago is now talking so well, and coming up with new and wonderful phrases that I know that I didn't teach him (unless he's already able to read and has logged on to my blog and read all my best friend blog issues - at which point, I've created a genius). The other little miracle is that at the tender ages of 7 and 3, Elijah and Isaiah's relationship is already beginning to move beyond siblings to friends, and there's something precious there. Now, at first, I thought I'd just enjoy the moment and I'd remember it. But I know that I would forget - mom's always forget. So, of course I got the camera out and had him repeat it. And while I was there, thought about my brother and had them record a message for him - but of course, though they might work together - they conspire against me - and it was more of a silly time than anything real. That doesn't mean that I didn't put it in a video... cuz I did. It does mean that when I did add a few pictures of my brother at the end as tribute.

Brother's do hold a special sort of place in the world. I look at my dad and Uncle Darrell who stayed in the same town and live next door to each other, and visit with each other almost every day. And I envy that. And I think that those types of relationships are easier for boys growing up than they are for girls. Not that I can say for sure - but it seems to me that girls bond more as adolescents when they go through growing up trauma - and my sister and I didn't have the same interests during that time . . . so some of that was missed - we had to wait until we were both parents - and even then she was 12 years into it when I first started, and a grandmother not long after I had my last. But Jason, well, I suppose it's best summed up with this quote that I found:

There is a little boy inside the man who is my brother. Oh, how I hated that little boy. And how I love him too.-- Anna Quindlan

I think that hate is too strong a word - but oh man that annoying little fart who used to stick his finger right up to my face on car rides - he's still in there. And when he comes to pick on my kids and they look at me in desperation, (and when he did it to Lanny), Jodi and I sit back and watch with a bit of a rite of passage mentality --- It is Jason, and this must be survived -- but know that he does it with love.