bittersweet.

i miss him.  a lot.

as aaron, the boys, and i drove back home from letting our paper latern with two small handprints go to heaven to him, i told aaron that it honestly feels like it happened last year.  partially because i don't feel as if i'm 28.  but mostly because i can still see his smile, hear his laugh, and i'm in denial that its been nine years since those things actually happened.

they say time heals all things.  it doesn't.

however, time does have a way of making you remember the good things.  it overshadows the not-so-good things.  but honestly, time doesn't heal a damn thing.  the ache is always there.  it's even worse when there is a day to remind you that its there.

and to twist the heartache even more, is that you know the ache is there, but the whole world doesn't.  the world doesn't stop turning.  people don't stop living their normal lives.  and as much as you want everyone to stop what they're doing and remember, they don't.  they either don't know, or they forget.  but it's a very present thing in my life.  a dull ache in my heart that is usually full of joy, love, and hope most days.  

you never know when it's going to hit, either, those triggers.  you know the ones...the ones that make you laugh so hard you cry.  the ones where your heart swells from the happy memories.  and even the ones that make you stop you in your tracks, where you look for that peice of him, that memory.

and the dreams?  oh, so bittersweet.  seeing his face again.  but a harsh reminder of reality.  God knows right when i need that reminder, though.  when i tend to think that i'm forgetting, He knows how to remind me.  and i am eternally thankful for that.

a.a. milne had great insight:
'how lucky am i to have had something {so special} that makes saying goodbye to hard.'

so true. 

whispers & love

at the end of the day, all that is left is love.

my heart is broken.  the events that transpired friday in connecticut, in sandy hook elementary, those precious lives.

i, like so many others, clung so dearly to my boys all weekend.  wept tears for the families who got that unbearable news.  tears for those mamas and daddys who are trying to make sense of this brutal act.  tears for those siblings who are trying to comprehend why a peice of them is missing.  because believe me, i've been that sibling.

i shut off the news friday.  i refused to watch or listen or comprehend anything that was going on.  not because i didn't care.  but because i was reeling as a mama myself.  i whispered all of their names over and over, because young or old, each of them have a mama.  and as a mama, i would want someone to continually whisper my boys' names, too.

at the end of the day, all that is left is love.  even through the tragedy, i know CT and everyone affected can feel the love that the nation is pouring.  primarily because we are just as numb as them, because we don't know what else to do besides love. 

as we move forward with our week, may we remember that 26 families' worlds are at a standstill.  they are going through the motions, but not living.  and they may not for awhile. 

continue to whisper their names.  each mama will hear and feel it.  they will know their baby was so incredibly loved, even if we had never met them. 

at the end of the day, all that is left is love.

tiny terrorists.

remember when i was all lovey dovey and professed my love of james being 23 months?  yeah, me too.

well, it was certainly short lived. 

i have now fully embraced what they call are the terrible twos.  and that is totally misleading.  terrible is a misnomer, actually.  it's not terrible.  it's more like terrifying.  torturous.  tantrumy.  a more accurate description is terroristic twos.  as in, who is this tiny terrorist and where did my sweet baby go?

allow for me to share a few revelations from this past weekend of holy terror.  the no napping, tantrumy, ohmygawdkillmenow whiny weekend. 

1. i firmly believe two year olds are on the bipolar spectrum.  seriously.  happy, sad, crying, smart-alecky, whiny, sweet, and snotty all rolled into 2 minutes.  repeat that for 14 long hours of the day.  i'd dare to say he is worse than a pregnant woman. 

2. i now know why mommys drink wine.  refer to #1 for explanation.

now, in all reality, our weekend wasn't so horrible.  we did some crafts, like putting up james' new felt christmas tree.  {thank you pinterest!}  james was a fan for about 3.5 seconds.  i had this great project envisioned, which turned into him crying and having a fit because he didn't want me to touch his "ris-mas".  now he has it decorated just right and shows people his "ris-mas", but he won't touch it again and will freakout if you go near it.  which stinks because it's on the wall by the door, which drew's car seat sits.  sigh.  you win some, you lose some.


mom also came for coffee and shopping.  james loves that, as do i.  nothing like getting spoiled than grandma coming to town.  plus, it was music class day, and everyone had a blast.  and i got the cleaning and most of the endless supply of laundry that always accumulates.  it's the small victories, folks.

 

let's just say, daycare was a sight for sore eyes this morning.  poor toddler room.  they have to deal with 6 of these tiny terrors.  all at the same time.  and they're not even their kids, so it's not like they can yell like mom's are allowed to do.  bless their hearts, because i know i couldn't do it. 

oh james, we're in for a wild ride together.  and just think, they say three is even worse.  

as you say in the car, "ho-ed on, oh-nee!"  {translation: hold on, ernie!}

happy monday, all!