Sammy's new school shoes. Oh, and hey! My new couch. Which smells. Anyone with new microfiber want to tell me when the nasty smell will go away?
Sammy's first real eye exam. I'm PRETTY sure the phrase "I told you I can't read that" shouldn't be uttered that much. I had to sit on my hands not to correct him. I just went glasses shopping while Sammy and Daddy finished up. It was for the best.
The winners. He looks so smart! And grown up! Perfect to start school with...
We came home the other day and saw that Momo was up to no good...
He killed Scooby. And he would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for...
Dr. Sammy checking Momo.
Sammy art camp stuff (in the middle) minus the dream catcher. Finale day presentation.
There are a LOT of people who think my husband has no sense of humor. They see him being serious 95% of the time and assume that's his default. I get it. I really do. But it always makes me laugh, because he is a giant goober. And funny. I've been laughing constantly for the past 14 years. To make one another laugh is a huge goal in our home. And the wittier the pun, the better.
Sammy cannot say mosquito. Or Guido. He uses the same word for both: p-squito. And, as parents are wont to do, we've adopted that as the correct choice. Of course. For the past few nights, Sammy has woken with horrible mosquito bites on his face and arms. We have seen the culprit, but have been alluded thus far in our pursuits. Wednesday morning, about 5, Sammy comes in our room to tell us the 'p-squito' is on his pillow. Isaac goes to check it out, but he escapes. Again. So Isaac leaves for the gym and I snuggle Sammy into our bed for the last couple of hours of sleep. As we get up and start our day, I go to shut my bedroom window and trap the little monster mosquito in between our window and screen. I then send an email to Isaac. This is our exchange.
Tawnya: "Found the psquito. He is now trapped between our bedroom window and screen."
Isaac: "psquito, it sounds like you're reading a skippy-john-jones book, no? As in psquito-tito, the slight-winged bandit from outdoors-ito, come to make a margarito of your blood-ito. I knew what you meant, of course, but it was funny -to me anyway."
Tawnya: "Maybe we should continue the 'going to bed early' trend...You know this will be turned into a blog post, right?"
I haven't decided how, or if, to link, yet, when I have a new post up. Or just leave it to whomever wants to subscribe via a reader. But for the next few, I may just link here. Because I'm needy (I kid...). So. There is a story start over on my writing blog this morning.
In yesterday's comments, my lovely and brilliant friend Lacy said,
As far as getting past insecurities within the closest group of friends? If we are the closest group of friends, then our friends love us and accept us just as we are.
And I carried that around with me while I ran errands and cleaned and, then, in the shower, the clouds parted and I saw, very clearly, something I haven't seen before, though it has been staring me in the face for nearly 15 years. I've often realized that I'm terrified of people getting to know the real me and then leaving, but I didn't realize until yesterday that it was a hold over from my divorce. But there it is.
I often say that I got through my divorce unscathed. That it happened, it's fact and that is it. And in one sense, that is true. It happened and as far as divorces go, I had it pretty lucky. There wasn't screaming or wailing or gnashing of teeth. Just a parting of ways amid a sea of sadness. I fought and cried and begged and then I closed down. I thought, in some ways rightly so, that I had dealt with the baggage. And if it wasn't clearly 'over' at least I KNEW it was baggage and continued to deal. But this. How did I miss this? When I'm sure everyone around me is thinking, "Um...duh.". If I couldn't get through a MARRIAGE without the love of my life looking at my warts and not running, how on earth can I get anyone else to stay? I honestly didn't realize the root of this until now: why I'm so shielded and unwilling to open up about things of substance. Why I second guess everything I say and do. Why I fear that all it will take is one wrong thing said and people will flee. Why I leave from the most fun thing with the greatest of women feeling down about myself, wanting to shut down.
I love how when something is dancing around the periphery of your mind for weeks or months and you can't get it out to live until something happens, or someone says just the right thing. And then. Suddenly. There it is. Out into the light to be examined and touched and thought about in ways you could never imagine. My post yesterday wasn't even really ABOUT this. It was more about how we had two valuable conversations going that I wished I could have participated in more even though I walked away feeling less than. But somehow through that less than formed thought, an answer came about to something else, which, while it's plagued me, I never knew an answer was missing, really. But I feel this was very much a 'line upon line' situation in regards to my own life.
So I guess the end is in the realization. To understand where the answer comes from and to use the knowledge; learning from it and using it for my betterment. Which is better than ignoring it, which is the other option. Well, that or never realizing there was a problem at all and swimming in ignorance.
Still so young to travel so far / old enough to know who you are / wise enough to carry the scars without any blame / there's no one to blame...
I don't usually walk away from book club melancholy, but last week I did. I often walk away wishing I hadn't said something, but last week I wished I hadn't said much of what I did and wished I had said more of what I didn't.
There was much conversation on one end of the table about self-esteem and I could have talked all night on the subject, mostly because it is of great concern in my life right now and something I've been pondering. What I wanted to say is if these women, who are amazing, feel down about themselves a good deal of the time, what chance do I have? And then my friend Deb mentioned that she's ok talking about what she knows she does well and, well, that's when the melancholy struck. Because I realized I'm pretty incapable of doing that, myself. I KNOW there are things I'm good at. I KNOW there are things I do well and that I've excelled at in my life, but...I can't admit it. I can't ever tell someone I'm good at them. How would that LOOK?! I know. It's terrible.
And then I spent the rest of the night second guessing everything. Maybe I talk too much, maybe I say the wrong things, maybe I shouldn't invite people to do things so often and just wait for them - if they want to be in my life, they'll make an effort; maybe they hate that I bother them. It was truly a spiral from there and I was feeling very down by the time I reached home.
At the other end of the table, we spent a lot of time talking about finding yourself, or at least, remembering yourself once you have kids. It's so easy to forget that you had interests and thoughts beyond kids and fears and day to day life. I tried to give advice to my newly pregnant friend, but I felt a fraud. How was I to instruct in an area I am struggling in myself?
It was a heavy subjected night. One that left me thinking. And, well, feeling terrible. These women are my friends and I know that they would take pause if they knew I was feeling this way. But it was completely out of my hands. Heavy topics equaled a heavy heart, in the end, for me. And there doesn't seem to be an easy way out of this line of thinking. How does one who feels unable to stand confidently on their merits, change that? How does one get past their insecurities within the closest group of friends? How does one find themselves again, once lost to motherhood?
These things. They weigh heavy. And without answer.
