to mom's everywhere, i high five-fist bump you!

When I started my journey of motherhood over sixteen years ago, I had no idea what I was doing. I had never changed a diaper, never been exposed to a baby crying for more than a few passing minutes, never thought about varying theories of childhood discipline. I'd never even taken Home Ec and had to carry one of those pretend babies around. The only thing I knew was that I wanted a baby...and now I had one...and I was totally in love...and totally committed to whatever lay ahead.

But in all my idea of not knowing how to mother, I never dreamed there would be so MANY ways I would have to mother.

Over the course of the next nine years, one baby soon turned to two, to three, to four; each with such different little personalities and needs. During those years, I was your typical super SAHM -- organizing play dates in the park, volunteer teaching the toddler music class at the library, homeschooling two gifted sons. I had a mini-van I could drive with one hand while retrieving a dropped binky with the other. I learned how to cook from watching Martha Stewart Living, longing to have my own backyard chickens and an unlimited budget to decorate my dream home.

Then, at year ten of my motherhood journey--about the time I was learning that mothering pre-teens was going to be different than mothering easy to entertain littles-- I got divorced and became a single mother. I hated referring to myself as that ("single mother") because it sounded as if I had never made the choice to marry, or had made the choice to divorce (neither of which were true), a term that often brought with it built-in sympathy or scorn, neither of which I wanted. But that's what the world chose to categorize me as for the next five years--like it or not.

During that time, I was the most driven, focused, and exhausted I had ever been. I went back to school and worked my hiney off to graduate with honors. I learned how to live on a shoestring budget and on rarely more than four hours of sleep. I worked five jobs while facing the health fallout that comes with my heart condition of mitral-valve stenosis. I had to learn to build a working, civil relationship with my ex-husband despite terribly hurt feelings, a lack of trust, and court-ordered money that wasn't always available. And all of this for my children. There was nothing I wouldn't have done for them, no matter of personal comfort I wouldn't have sacrificed for them. As their mother who loved them more than anything. As a mother who knew she had to make the best of what sometimes felt little better than survival. And though I often felt then that I was failing, I can look back now with dignity at what I did in those years.

Then, a year and a half ago, I became yet another kind of mother--a step-mother. I was blessed that my daughters-to-be were sweet as could be and accepted me immediately, but it didn't mean the transition was effortless.

In addition to my step-mothering, it also meant my boys were now being step-fathered, both relationships that take time, trust, love, laughter, and mutual respect to establish. It meant I now had to exist in some sort of civil, largely silent relationship with my husband's ex-wife who was/is nearly exclusively supported by his income, and who wasn't thrilled with the idea of me or my children, and all the duress and drama that regularly entails--which still means a lot of forgiving, attempts at understanding, deep breathing. 

Getting remarried didn't return me to my former glory as a SAHM, I still have to work to make sure our needs as a jumbo-sized family in pricey Southern California are met. But it did afford me full nights of sleep and an overflowing emotional bucket of happiness and love. And now, mothering children aged 16,14,13,10, 8 and 8,  I have learned that I will likely  never reach a point where I don't worry over my children, watch over them, cheer them, stand in amazement of them. There will never be one magical solution that worked on one that will work on all of them. That sometimes I will have to let them fail, that sometimes I will have to watch people who are supposed to care about them hurt them, and that sometimes I will give in simply because they outnumber me :)

Yesterday, I took a few hours and wrote each of my six children personalized letters about why I love being their mother. This, because the week before, I was at the gym on the elliptical machine and came across an article called "Ten Questions You Should Ask Your Mother." Having lost my own mother eight years ago now, I was glad I'd had the opportunity to ask her most of the questions on the list while she was still alive, holding the answers close to my heart. But when I reached the question What does your mother love most about you?, I lost it. I was glad I was already sweaty so the man next to me couldn't see that I was crying. My mom had often told me things she loved about me, but I didn't always listen. Maybe I didn't believe her. Maybe I assumed she would always be around to keep telling me. Maybe, like my own children, I could never have pictured a life without her.

For any and all of those reasons,  I wanted my children to know, without a doubt, how much I love them, the reasons I love them, that I will always love them, and that I have always tried to do the best for them with what I had emotionally, financially, and in wisdom available to me at any time. I know there is so much I could have done better, that I could do better, that I will do better, but I set out on this journey committed, and as I have crossed one threshold of mothering after another, I have never flinched.

To all you mothers, at whatever stage or type of mothering you're in, I high five you and wish you a Happy Mother's Day!

2012, the golden bowling trophy of big changes

Each year since my divorce has seen major changes. And each year, I've thought, Whew! Don't think I could top this one!

But I think maybe 2012 holds the prize. The golden bowling trophy of big changes. The fact that I sit at my desk in my new home, looking down at my wedding ring and out at a rainy California day is testament to this...

Here are this year's highlights:

In my writing:

*I took third in a major fiction contest,scoring the $200 prize (the most I've ever been paid for a published piece...thus far)

*I was accepted to the prestigious Pacific University MFA program and then decided against it as I just couldn't justify the financial and time commitment. Maybe one day I'll try again, but for now have decided to write as passionately as though I were in the program. I'm still at peace with the decision.

*I was a featured storyteller at an event called Story, Story Night where I learned I could tell my story without reading it off a page.

*Published four of my own articles as literary director of Fusion magazine and things in other publications including one short story, two poems, a restaurant review, a look at a major local building project, and acted as editor and layout designer for the real estate newspaper associated with my job. It was a landmark year for putting my name out there.

*Started on my novel and became engulfed by it...hoping to return to it soon.

*Interviewed 48 amazing writers and others influencing the literary world on my radio show, The Writers' Block--including award-winning David Abrams, Alan Heathcock, J. Reuben Appelman, Carla Neggers, Pauls Toutonghi, Stephanie Reents and others. Very aware of the priceless amount I learned about writing, editing, and publishing during my stint as host.

*Made the dedication page of Mr. Perfect's book. I've always wanted to be on one of those :).

 

In my family life:

*Z, at 15, is as tall as me now with feet several sizes bigger. He's into parkour and rugby, which means I have to close my eyes a lot and remember how important it is to let kids be fearless within reason. He can carry in all the groceries by himself and I'm pretty sure he could, if needed, sling me over his shoulder and carry me out of a canyon with my leg broken. That's a nice feeling, though I can't say I don't miss my baby.
I broke down in tears when the boys all arrived safely here on Christmas day, knowing my Z had shepherded his younger brothers safely through two airports. He has always done hard things without complaint and I am ever so proud of him.

*E, now 13, made me mother to two teenagers this year. He is a fiercely loyal friend, still so aware--as he has been since his youth--of just what is right and what is wrong, and constantly stands up for the underdog and the weird. His grades have slipped this year, largely due to his homeschooling background where he preferred self-guided learning instead of a bunch of busy work with due dates, and yet all the reports I've received from his teachers say he is one of their favorite students. I have no doubt of his intelligence and trust he will find his way with a little motivation and organization, and I often remind myself of the number of  highly successful people who weren't great students. Plus, he's an uber-talented musician and can quickly calm my worst of days with his music.

*L, 8 years old, is still the most shy of all my boys, though once he warms up--his smile lights up a room and his laugh could warm the coldest heart. He is top of his class in all subjects and loves being on time, crossing off lists, and planning projects. He has taken more of an interest in money and savings this year and wouldn't be surprised if he asked to start investing in stocks soon. He's also my snuggliest boy and I look forward to his daily hugs.

*J turned 6 this year and doesn't seem to mind being the youngest and battling for his spot to be noticed or get seconds of dessert. He has a natural love for performing and a knack for humor--both purposeful and not. He has taken off as a reader this year and his teacher says he's a natural classroom leader, often winning the class award for helpfulness and character. I do worry he'll grow bored (like E) in classes if they don't keep up with his pace of learning, but I'll keep finding ways to push him here at home. He is truly a delight to me and all those he comes in contact with.

Like most moms, I alternate between worrying my children will grow up distant as a result of all the bickering and slugging they do, but then am calmed by those not-so-uncommon moments where I find them all huddled together on the couch looking at a book, or laughing at a movie, or working at a game, and I know everything is going to be alright. They've all taken warmly to our new family situation and Mr. Perfect, as I suspected, takes his role as a step-dad very seriously and prays daily for guidance. The boys love their new sisters and often declare our house "boring" without them here. I look keenly forward to our lifetime of adventures together as a blended family.

In my social life:

*The first few months of 2012 still found me nursing a seriously broken heart, struggling to get over my break up with Dr. Yummy, and also trying to date someone whose company I enjoyed but who just wasn't right for me. It all felt forced and led to a lot of unnecessary emotional turmoil. Plus, there was this deep lingering crush I was still harboring for Mr. Perfect that seemed to interfere with my ability to really "re-attach" myself to anyone. Though I might agree to a dinner or movie with another man, it was nearly always Mr. Perfect I would call to talk to at the end of the day.

*June was a big month. I threw an unforgettable backyard birthday party to celebrate turning 37. I had several bands, a slushee machine, a BBQ truck, and confetti canons. And nearly all of it was free, favors from friends. I didn't know it would be the last of my backyard birthday bashes, but it was a great send off, and a great reminder of the blessings of loving and being loved.

I also finally decided to fly out to California--not just because it had become a yearly tradition since my divorce, but to visit Mr. Perfect for the first time in a year, hoping for a chance with him. We all know how that one ended :)

June also brought about my reunion with Dr. Yummy who asked, rather out of the blue, if he could take me to lunch. I hadn't seen or talked to him since October of 2011, and while something in my heart was stirred at seeing him and being with him again, it didn't compare to what I was now feeling for Mr. Perfect, and I had one of those blessed moments where I understood why I had to go through what I did to get to where I was now.

*Within a five month period, I dated Mr. Perfect, got engaged, and got married at a drive-thru window in Las Vegas. Now THAT was some major life changing! :)

*Socially speaking, I am currently adrift in unknown territory. I feel blessed to live with my best friend and, now, to have my dear boys with me too. I have wonderful friends here in California but it will take time to cement the relationships like I had in Boise--to find a group of writers I respect and challenge me creatively and intellectually, to find those kindred spirits who get my quirky personality. But I'm excited for the adventure and still feel I am just where I'm supposed to be.

In my spiritual life:

*My lessons continue--mostly in faith and trust in the Lord's timing. I have learned, time and again, that things generally work out and my worry over them, beyond that which keeps me motivated in moving forward toward a solution, does no one any good. My motto quickly became: Can you do anything about the problem? If yes, good--don't worry. If no--good, then why worry?
Letting go and letting God help has been a beautiful, developing relationship I hope I continue to nurture.

*I feel incredibly blessed to have helped and been helped this year. I get teary just thinking of all the service, time, and monetary help given myself and my family. I am a blessed, blessed woman.
*I also learned more about forgiveness this year--with Brad losing his job and being unable to pay child support for several months, putting the children and I in dire straits financially. I could have devoted a lot of energy to being angry at and verbally bashing him, but I didn't. Though I wouldn't let him forget his responsibilities, it felt better just to give him the benefit of the doubt, understand his perspective, and try to find solutions on my own. Yesterday would have been our 18th wedding anniversary. I still feel sad to have lost the ideal situation for our family, and I do still miss the man he was--but I wouldn't change things either. I am content. Brave. Joyful. Optimistic. More sure than ever that everything works out in the end, with God's help--and if it hasn't worked out...it's not the end.

Wishing you all a blessed and prosperous 2013. Thank you for your continued love and support. Thank you for your kind words and more. Thank you for continuing on this adventure with me. May peace be in and around you.

With love,
~Jennifer P.

i'll be home for christmas

Tonight I attended a church Christmas program. During one part, they dimmed the lights and--over the sounds of a couple singing "I'll be Home for Christmas"-- showed a slide show of local church members who are serving missions or in the military. At the very end, they paused on a picture: It was a scene of the Huntington Beach pier at night--all misty with ocean and lit up with oversized snowflake lights hung on the lamp posts. It took a minute for it to resonate with me--they had paused on that picture because, for nearly everyone there, that was "home." That was the place those who were away in Peru and Iraq and Tennessee would be thinking of and missing this Christmas.

And it was now my home, too.

While the familiar brown-grey, snow-dusted foothills of Boise, the dry cold in the air, and the outline of the brick-sidewalked downtown twinkling in white lights will always be in my heart, I really am excited to be in a new home. Excited for the opportunities here to make new friends, new memories. Have new adventures. Bloom where I'm planted.  And while it is hard to separate the word "home" from a location, a scenery, a  familiar four-walled abode--I have learned (yet again) that Home really is less about a place and more about those you are with. Home is familiarity, tradition, routine--yes, but it is also love, acceptance, trust, laughter. Portable things.

My boysquad flies in on Christmas morning to join Mr. Perfect and I in the place that will soon be their new home as well. With the money spent on the move, the wedding, and tweaking the house to be able to fit all of us--there won't be anything but filled stockings this year. Yet I still can't imagine having any better Christmas than this one will be. After a month of being away from them, I will have the children I adore, the man I adore, and his girls I adore all together. In my arms. Piled in a big, warm pile on my lap. Yeah--even Mr. Perfect will probably hop in on that :)

So while I am away from the only home I've ever known, and still adjusting to this new home, I truly can say I will be home for Christmas.

 You can plan on me.

May you all sleep in heavenly peace.

xoxo,
~Jennifer P.

dear life

Dear Life--

I work marketing in a luxury real estate office. Do you know what that means? It means all day long I look at houses and lofts and condos in the highest price ranges in our city. Ones with bathrooms as big as my home. They look like this:

And they suddenly intensify all the imperfections in my circa-1988 ranch-style builder's special that needs a new roof and new doors and a new HVAC and new windows and the carpets cleaned.

Working in a swanky part of town also means that I share the parking garage with a lot of swanky new cars. It seems every week there's something new and shiny parked next to me. Something with the dealer's temporary registration still taped in the back window, indicating it's not only new but BRAND new. Mostly Euoropean sport sedans, but these fancy tanks are also popular:

Which serves as a sore and ugly reminder that my mini-van is now 11 years old and won't hang on forever.

I also have to walk daily by all the new chic restaurants our city is known for--their patrons strewn about the patio dining, listening to live piano music, and forking cuts of tender beef into their mouth, while I envision my food-shaped Lean Cuisine meal waiting for me in the freezer back at the office.

You know what else I seem to see everywhere that isn't really money-related but is something I don't have all the time that I really want? This:

 

Love. Support. Laughter. Hugging and kissing and special glancing. The stable blessing of waking up to the same person every morning. Sigh.

 

Not to mention all the cute shoes and outfits hanging in store windows that cost as much as my monthly grocery bill. And all the salon services (hot stone massage, deep conditioning, hombre hair, shiny nails, hair waxing, 18th century diseases injected in your wrinkled face) that I'm sure would take several years off my oft-bedraggled appearance if only I could afford even the tip on such frivolities.

 

Well, all these wants add up inside me sometimes until I find myself no longer seeing the donut--just the hole.

 

But, Life, you're too good to let me go on like that for long, aren't you? In quiet, daily moments, usually in prayer or scripture study, you remind me that I am still a blessed, blessed woman. That although my home will never have a sauna or a 6 car garage or a room devoted entirely to my cats (just saw one of those today), there are people who live like this:

 

 

 



That although my mini-van has its quirks and a nice paint gash where I accidentally backed into Brad's car a few months ago, some families will never know more than this for transportation:

That while I may not dine in fancy restaurants with any regularity, I have never known any real hunger, have never waited in a bread line or stood by a ration truck, fighting to keep my family's share.

And though I may  not have a cuddle partner all the time, I do still have my Mr. Perfect and the perfectly lovely monthly visits we've managed to patch together, and the hope that--in due time-- we might be able to figure out how to make it work with moving and kids and money and all.

I know just how lucky I am to be in a place where the source of my fears has never had to be from war, torture, disaster, or homelessness...

But more from the unknown--risks taken or not taken. Important choices requiring great amounts of faith to decide on.

Life, I know that a loving God has designed you for each of us perfectly. That He loves the billionaire and the refugee just the same, and that monetary status is not a reflection of the goodness of the person. In fact, there have been studies showing that people in third world countries are actually HAPPIER than those in first-world countries with their fretting over second mortgages and iPhone covers.

It doesn't mean my trials still aren't hard to carry, but they're mine. Designed for me to be able to find the strength to endure and to overcome. And honestly, I wouldn't trade them in for anyone else's. Of course, if you'd like to let me try living in that high-rise condo and driving that dandy Land Rover--just to be *certain* I'd not trade for that trial, well, I suppose I'd be down for the experiment :).

But really, thank you for my life, Life. Thank you for what I have, what I still have, what I've always had. Thank you for my mostly strong and able body, my toothpaste commercial teeth, and my nice abs. Thank you for the variety of cold cereal in my pantry. Thank you for this safe country that allows me to speak my mind, cast my vote, and sit in the church of my choice each Sunday worshipping the God I believe in. Thank you for love. And the hope of love. And thank you most of all for these:

When my boys are near, I just can't see the hole at all. Everything is simply donut, donut, donut.

lies we tell our children

C'mon...you  know you've done it... "Put the truth to the test" with your kids. Sometimes for (you hope) their benefit--because the truth is ugly; or sometimes just to mess with them because what fun are kids if you don't get a few ill-gotten chuckles out of the deal ? :).

Here is a sampling of lies I've told my boysquad:

1. (This one worked brilliantly when they were little) The ice cream truck plays music when it's out of ice cream. I still remember the looks on their faces when, at the park with our homeschool co-op years ago, the ice cream truck came through the parking lot, playing music, and all the kids ran for it...and got ice cream...

2. Sorry, the candy is all gone.  (Really I'm hiding the last few pieces of it in my bedroom drawer. It's mine. Trust me, you'll appreciate  that I'm nicer with chocolate in my system).

3. That's not a bad haircut: In my quest to save money, I frequent a less-than-spa-like hair cutting establishment. Most of the time, things turn out alright. Occassionally, a hairdresser who has chosen a mullet style hair-do for herself (yeah...HERself) gets assigned to one of my boys. Usually poor cowlick-ridden E. And the result looks a bit like the heart-wrenching pictures of parasite-ridden third world children. Sigh. At least it grows back in a month. A definite perk for having all male children.

4. My room was always clean when I was younger! Truth is, it was one of those rooms with two paths through the heaps of clothes and shoes--one from the door to my bed, one from my bed to my bathroom. One day, after several threats to 'pick up my stuff or else...', my mom waited until I was gone, then bagged up every piece of clothing on my floor and hid it at her office. After a month of being forced to wear only what I had hanging in my closet (which wasn't much), I learned my lesson about picking up my clothes. I learned it for a whole two months....

5. There won't be bullies when you grow up. After a run-in with a bully type who wrote a mean and profanity-laden message on my E's binder (in permanent marker WHILE my E was in a different part of the classroom teaching a card game--to handicapped children nonetheless!...), I tried to console him with the idea that bullies won't be an issue when he grows up. I told him I know it's rough to endure this part of his life, but if he keeps holding true to the fine young man he is, he'll be ok.

I believe that last part about him being ok, but the no grown up bully part...yeah, I don't think that's really true. Maybe we give them different names when we get older, but the truth is: Life produces some pretty rotton individuals. Sometimes, even when you're nice to everyone and treat others like you want to be treated--there are people who only delight in pulling you down and/or belittling you and/or your achievements.

They're easier to ignore or avoid as an adult, at least. Mostly. Surrounding yourself with good family and true friends who know how great you are helps form the best barrier. And having faith that there's a special place reserved in the after life for the not-so-nice bully types. A place where the ice cream trucks are always out of ice cream :)

That's the truth.

And thank goodness there are a million other wonderful truths to share with my kids that need no *embellishing* whatsoever.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go eat some of that candy that's "all gone." :)