Mall Scavenger Hunt birthday party....I survived!

I have written about this on both the girls' blogs so that they will have (my version of) a little bit of detail to come back and reminisce on....But I wanted to include this on my blog, too.  This was a very important night for me.

My girls are 6th and 8th grade.  That's 12 and 14 years old.  They are mini adults.  They are making bigger and bigger decisions all the time.  They are growing up and I have nothing to do about it.  Except make memories while it happens.

When they were little I went all out with birthday parties and the planning that went into them.  We did princes  more than a few times, we did spa parties, cooking studio parties, fancy tea parties, bowling parties, roller skating, horses, safari scavenger hunt....the list goes on.  We talk about them every year at their birthdays and try to remember the theme to each one.  But the last couple years, they kind of dwindled.  Or were replaced by bigger gifts like summer camp or expensive concert tickets (great memories!).  Moving from NM to CO also factored in because it has taken a while to build up their friend base which is what a party is really based on.

This year Emma did a little searching on Pinterest and decided she wanted another scavenger hunt.  And though the Lion King 5th birthday party was pretty awesome, she wanted to do one in the mall with her friends.  And oh yeah, it has to be, like, hard mom.  Okay?  For 14-year-olds.

Great.  No pressure.

In the meantime, as kind of a long time wish of mine, I talked Karly into joining us and combining her party with Emmas so both groups would be in the hunt.  Karly's situation is a little different as her friend base is pretty volatile (read: inconsistent).  It changes quite often.  But as the time neared, she was able to formulate one of the four teams that would be in our Scavenger Hunt Party.

I got a lot of my ideas off of Pinterest but here are pictures of the stuff I ended up making...I did two versions.  Turquoise for Emma and Pink for Karly.  Everything else was the same for each girl.

Invitation and envelope, goody bag, water bottle, hunt rules and scoring sheets.

Again, I found these on Pinterest but instead of purchasing them, I made them myself in Photoshop.

For the "credit card" I used business adhesive 3M card protectors.

The goodies were big size candy bars and some candy from the candy store, beauty items from Forever 21, glass bottle of soda and straw, and face mask/mud from Forever 21.  

The party was from 4-7pm as the mall told me it starts thinning out in the mall after 5pm on a Saturday.  I had asked the stores (and the mall) that I was including on my hunt before hand if it was okay to send my girls in.  There were a couple stores that said no so I steered them clear of those.  The hunt part was from 4-6pm.  Then they came back to the food court and ate, had cake and got their prizes.  I learned a lot from this experience and unfortunately, I wouldn't have know if I hadn't tried it this way.  But the girls loved it and we talked about doing it every year.  I had a lot of fun with it because it was a fun "girl" thing to do. 

As my girls get older, I see them growing into the adults they will soon be.  I am absolutely loving talking to them and spending time with them as they grow.  They are such cool, neat little spirits. They are so much like they were when they were 5 and 3.  In some ways they haven't changed a bit and I just smile to myself when I think about those times.  As I get older and my kids reach the age that I wished I had done things like this, my brain sends me back to that time in my life.  The things that my parents did or didn't do to make my childhood the way I wanted it to be.   Teenagers usually go through a phase where their parents "ruin their life" and I expect that.  But I fully intend to make the best of my time with my "big girls" now that they are old enough to do things that I like to do (and wear the same clothes, ha!).  Our relationship is growing with them.  We are learning from our mistakes and they know I will make mistakes, too.  I have already shown them that.  But I have owned up to it and admitted where I went wrong and how I will try to do things differently next time.   We talk about the decisions we make and how they affect the rest of the family.  About being happy with who you are and what you are doing.  And this all goes for me as well as them.  As long as they know I'm not perfect but I'm honest and am not hiding things from them, I think I have a little less chance of ruining their lives forever.  ;-)  Things are well right now.  I  know there will be ups and downs.  But I intend to make it through those times and come out holding hands on the other side.  Or I will die trying.  Here's to the many more memories we will be making.....

A new birth

My sister had her baby and we welcomed this little guy into our extended family yesterday but it has been bittersweet.  Though not in the way I would have expected.  His little body, so fresh and new, to tiny, is a reminder of my sweet little boy.  But I can look at this little one and separate him from Chase.  I don't hold him in place of what I'm missing.  We've had Owen and been through this stage with him and we are beyond that.  And that was a huge, very huge part of my healing process.  I think an hospital, and any baby ward I walk into will always bring back first my memories of Chase, and secondly, my memories of birthing my other children as well.  I wish it wasn't that way because my healthy births are the happiest moments in my life and and I wish those were the first images in my mind when I see those things.  But that is not my life.

What is bittersweet about the welcoming of this new little soul is my niece and nephew.  I look at them and I see my own kids and that is when the sadness rush in and I struggle to hold back tears.  Beckham is almost the exact age (within a couple months) of what Reese was when Chase was born.  That is so hard to believe because we see my nephew Beckham, and Owen, as the babies and they seem so little compared to what I "remember" Reese being five years ago.  Reese just seemed older and it's one of those thoughts that I really try to push away when I think of losing Chase.  That Reese was still a baby himself and that he had to comprehend death and carry those feelings in his little heart that day and those days after.  The questions he had…I remember holding him next to me during Chase's funeral and Reese listening so intent to the preacher and then looking up at me and asking me if it was Chase on Jesus' lap in the picture and if he was in Heaven now.  He was too little to have to bear that and go through all of it.  It wasn't fair.  And when I see Beckham's eagerness to see his new baby give him his present and hold him, I see Reese and what should have been happening when Chase was born.  And  my niece Gracie is just a year younger than Karly was when Chase was born and it seemed like Karly was so much older.

I don't know why our minds trick us this way, maybe to protect us.  I want to believe that they were "grown up" and old enough to handle what was dealt to us--because they did and the were all amazing through it all and they still are.  But the truth was they were just babies themselves.  They never should have had to travel the paths they did.  Children should not know that kind of pain and tragedy.  It breaks my heart today just the same as it did five years ago.  I failed them because as the parent I am supposed to protect them.  And not only did I not protect Chase that day, I watched them get hurt, too.  It devastates me.   I am so sorry.  As parents, we make mistakes and I think we realize we're not perfect.  But this was something that was never supposed to happen and I couldn't fix it.  And I never will be able to.  And I don't think they look at their new cousin thinking these things, but I can't help myself.  My kids were hurt.  All of them.  And that's the worst feeling in the world for a parent.

April is knocking on the door and I know I'm getting emotional about that already.  I can't believe how the years are flying by and I feel like Jan to the end of April are full speed downhill ride.  I don't want these years to fly by.  I want to enjoy them and while I'm trying to do that with Owen, it's just as important I do with the older kids.  I want to remember these elementary and middle school years as fun and amazing.  I love them all the same, regardless of age.  I hope they know that.  April is just a reminder to when our world shattered into a thousand pieces while we watched everyone and everything else go on around us as if nothing changed.  But we had.  We had to pick ourselves up and start over, at the same time we continued on with our lives as best we could.

So I look at this new birth as a beautiful miracle….but also as a reminder that we all were kind of reborn.  Not in a beautiful, everlasting, enlightening kind of way but in a you-have-to-keep-going kind of way.  And we made it.  We are here.  But we will never forget our little boy.  He is deep in our hearts and there he will stay.   Missing him more today than yesterday and feeling his presence in each other and in our beautiful surroundings.  I love you, little man.  Until we meet again….

Milestones

Owen is potty trained.  Wow.  That.Is.Huge.  Maybe not for Patric.  He never packed diapers to take Owen somewhere anyway…but now I don't have to worry about it!  lol.  that's a whole 'nother post.

Anyway, we are moving on…to the next phase.  So much of him reminds me of Emma.  He's home alone all day and wants me to play with him all the time.  And I do …. so much more than I did with Emma!  But I still have to stall with him a lot to get my stuff done around the house.   It is so fun to take him everywhere I go.  There are times when I don't--he'll either go with Dad or have a play date.  But most of the time I prefer to take him with me.  I feel like the time is going so fast.  I want to record all of his words.  This weekend at the swim meet, it was "Lappy Tappy" for Laffy Taffy.  His expressions.  His tone.  I breathe him in every day.  I had the best time buying an outfit at BabyGap…because (it was on sale!) I hardly ever buy him clothes, unless he needs them.  He is still wearing a lot of hand-me-downs from Reese and I just don't go into BabyGap much anymore.   AND, the real reason is, because I know he won't let me dress him much longer, if he's anything like his big brother.  I had a blast dressing Reese until he decided gym pants and tshirts were ll he needed to wear….at age 4.

This thing called parenthood is the toughest, most draining, yet most rewarding, ugliest, yet most beautiful, complicated, yet simple (rarely), most awesome thing ever.  And I see my journey in parenthood moving into a new era almost.  I'm not entirely sad about it, because I obviously don't miss changing diapers and toting around all the stuff for that.  But it just feels like a book is closing in my life.  I'm starting to look forward to the next one, without looking back at the last one teary-eyed all the time.  But most of all, I'm really focused on just enjoying this day and this moment.  This conversation and this task.  Because they are all so precious.  I love the girls growing up into young women that share my interests and enjoy our girls days out.  But I often reminisce when they were little and remember those silly things they did and their behaviors and little quirks they had.

I love being a mom.  But not a day goes by that I don't take it for granted.  Being Chase's mommy has most definitely helped shape me into the mom that I have become, just as the others that are here on earth with me.  It's not easy.  But I love it.  It makes me happy.  I couldn't ask for anything more.  I am so incredibly lucky.  And I know there was a time in my life that I thought I would never say that again.  But I can.  With tears in my eyes and an ache in my heart.  I'm a lucky girl.

Never too late

Some people go through life never knowing their guardian angels, if they have one or who they are.  Some don't believe in them and that's fine.  But I happen to have the bittersweet privilege of being so very well taken care of by one and even to know him….my sweet baby Chase.  I know he looks out for me and he's with me all the time.  I get reminded of it very acutely sometimes.  Like the other day…

Owen goes in little phases.  Sometimes he's in timeout several times in a week and then he'll go a few weeks without even seeing the chair.   I'll say this now:  I am not proud of the way I act sometimes.  My behavior and anger that is provoked by his misbehaving and tantrums can be unnecessary.  Though I feel I have myself under control, I regret being rough with him sometimes.  Keep in mind, this kid is one that does not learn with only timeout, only a spanking, or only a raised voice.  He needs all three and then sometimes, in the case of hurting others or throwing and/or breaking things, he requires more to help learn the lesson.  Saying that out loud sounds rough but because of my experience raising kids, I don't judge others for how they discipline or how they punish, within limits.   Raising kids is tough.  They push and pull you in all sorts of directions and test your sanity in moments of fatigue and weakness.  And you are expected to prevail, remain logical and reasonable, and know what to do.  Stay-at-home parents with kids at home are tested in that this environment 100% of the time.  There is no down time.  No time-off.  No holidays.  (If lucky, you have a babysitter on occasion and if extremely lucky, gramma can watch the kids for a weekend getaway.  But not everyone is and some of us wait several years for this kind of relief.)

Owen was in a phase of frequent Time-Out visits (they seem to compound each other…perhaps my tolerance level declines as his frequency increases…which is first?) a couple weeks or so ago.  I was feeling guilty for getting angry and handling him with less than acceptable care when removing him from his misbehaving spot and placing him in timeout.  (read: jerking him around)  I was feeling guilty because...he still loved me.  I have teenagers in the house too so I am now living in a world where  kids get mad and can stay mad; they don't forgive so quickly.  But Owen still does.  He forgives me within minutes.  Seconds.  And sometimes, when I'm mad at him and scolding him in my own shameful ways, he grabs my neck and hugs me.  That is when my discipline is like a boomerang:  I send it out and it comes right back at me, fast and furious.  Because he is going to love me no matter what I do.  Just as I love him no matter what he does.  But the moment of anger is not getting either of us anywhere.

My guardian angel stepped in one day and gave me something.  He gave me a perspective so clear that I can't believe it had gotten so far from my thoughts.  I realized that these days are so soon to be over.  This toddler age of defiance and tantrums is almost done for me and then I will have no more.  Ever. Ever. Ever.  And it hit me like a ton of bricks.  It's like the last 10 seconds of an exercise to muscle fatigue. It's almost over.  Don't fight it.  Hang on and muster through it and it will be done.  Soon.  And then one day, you'll be sad.  You'll want it back.  And you won't get it back.  It will be too late.

The rest of this story is that I didn't see Chase's intervention until just the other day. And I started crying.  It was him.  He was the one who gave me that quick glance into my crystal ball and reminded me to chin up.  And I thanked him.  Through my tears and gut wrenching ache I was thankful for this perspective.  The biggest, most tangibly intangible gift he has given me.  And then I miss him.  All over again.  Fresh.  It hurts not to have him here.  It's not fair.  I don't understand why.  This would be his last year home with me as he would be starting kindergarden next year.  I would be sad and crying but instead, I'm broken hearted, forever changed, sad beyond comprehension.  But I also chose to be grateful.  Grateful for my guardian angel to watch over me.  I cannot change our fate.  I thank him for helping me see what is in front of me when my eyes are blinded by every day stresses and tasks.  When I feel like I'm messing things up with Owen or being a bad mom to him and getting undeserving hugs and love from that little boy, when I feel like I'm failing at the only thing I really know how to do and love to do, when I feel inadequate and lost when I look in the mirror, he helps me to see.  He's there to send thoughts into my head and tell me what I need to hear, or what I need to say, or what I need to appreciate more.

I can't always explain it.  And I don't always know why I fix things when they need to be fixed.   That sounds elementary but often times I try to fix things after its already too late.  But I guess it's better late than never.  Because it's never too late to love or feel loved.  And that's all I'm really trying to do.

Day 5: Memory

I am taking part in Carly Marie's Capture Your Grief photo challenge again and this day got me.  I remember doing this last year and how in an unexpected way, it really triggered some emotions and memories and helped me get through another part of the grieving process.  It was a lot more thought-provoking than I had anticipated and stirred up some emotions that I had not felt for a long time.  It was also hard to go through the pictures on her page and see so many moms and dads early on in their journey going through some raw and fresh pain.  It was a therapeutic experience in many ways for me and for this reason I decided to do it again this October.  You'd think that after four and a half years, things would either be buried deep enough or the grief would subside quite a bit but this is not true.  Losing a child is something we take to our graves and those emotions are always there and reachable, if we chose to make them.  And the therapeutic part about it is that when you reach those emotions again, your loss feels that much closer.  They are older now, but you feel them, the loss of them, and how much you love them all over again, and even though it's painful, it's fresh.

The photo for day 5 is your strongest memory of your child, whether it's good or bad, what you remember most of him.  I thought about this and all kinds of memories came back to me like a huge tidal wave.  Emotions flooded me and the pain felt raw again.  My mind went to places I don't let it go often.  Those memories hurt.  I remembered the moment the doctor lost the heartbeat and what I was feeling as commotion set in place and panic and fear sort of eluded me.  Patric was there by my side and I thought of what he must have been feeling to see me get wheeled into the operating room and the chaos that surounded that short but hurried trip from my laboring room.  I can't imagine what he felt as he watched from the hall window and heard me screaming and moaning as the first incisions took place.  This is a very vivid memory of mine but one I don't talk about or think about very often.  The doctor always told me that I would remember more of the surgery as time passed but that wasn't true.  All my memories of that night are the same ones I woke up with as soon as I came out of recovery.  I tried very hard to keep a level of conciousness and awareness throughout all of that so everything that I remember is burned into my brain with extreme clarity and detail.  I can't get it out of my brain.  But I can control when those thoughts come about.  And last night they all came back.

I remembered asking to see Chase and them bringing him into my room before they life flighted him to Albuquerque.  I will never ever forget the image of him--his eyes open and aware.  Then when the doctor came into my room in Abq and gave me the whole status update....I was in a state of shock.  I don't know how I operated.  And meeting Patric in the NICU the first time, seeing Chase at the same time together...And those hours and days that ensued....

These memories are all I have of my son.  Nothing is happy about them.  They are very dark and painful.  A whirlwind that we were in as our world as we knew it shattered. Right before our eyes.  Since those days, we have done several things to remember our Chase.  We visit his grave and we take balloons to the mountains and we write him letters and sometimes we even buy him things.  But most importantly, we talk about him all the time.  We talk to him and we love him.  We feel his spirit and his love and he knows we love him.  These memories we create are just as important as the ones we have with him.  We try to make them happy as best we can but there will always be a hint of sadness around, no matter how much time passes.  And last night I felt this sadness in full force.  In an emotional, therapeutic breakdown.  The kind of breakdown that gets it all out and you feel exhausted afterwards.  This is what keeps me going.  This is how I do it.  I do my best to honor my son and to mother him in any way that I know or feel is right.  Mostly I carry him with me, though.  As I will til the day I die.