Jack Presley at Four (Going on Forty)

So I never got around to this post in the fall, when we got pictures taken, but I do have more insight into Jack at four now, so I’m ok with it. Jack Presley at four: • Jack has far too much of me in him. He is a perfectionist and has a fit when he cannot do something his way, when he wants to. However, like me, his perfectionism is selective. When he can’t throw a ball on the roof and catch it as it rolls off – FIT. When you can’t read his name at all despite half a year of preschool working on it – COULDN’T CARE LESS. And he sets the priorities, not us. • Jack is a Daddy’s boy. While he has so much of me in him, he has a fair amount of Troy in him, too. He loves to play sports, watch sports, talk about sports, anything sports. While the traits he gets from me, unfortunately, make life difficult at times for him, the traits he gets from Troy provide fun and enjoyment for him. I think that is why they have such a strong bond. Troy has as much fun as Jack when they play together. • Jack is kind to everyone. He recently started a new daycare and his caregiver commented that he is nice to every one of the kids and will play with anyone. I think that is why he is popular already with many kids. They like to play with him because he likes to play with them. And you can say this about every kid he knows. • Jack is still smart as can be. However, at four, he will come out with a very well thought out and logical statement, followed by a random comment about poop or his butt. It just means we need to really embrace those few seconds of pride in his intelligence before he ruins them by being such a boy. • Jack is sensitive. He’s my child that I feel the urge to shelter all the time. I never want his feelings to get hurt because it seems to hurt him so deeply. When another child at school teases him, I have become the mom that wants to spank the other kid’s butt. The other day he came up to me with big tears in his eyes and told me he missed Riley, our cat that passed away last spring. I know that sensitivity will make him a compassionate adult, but it is so hard to see him hurt by life’s struggles and challenges. • Jack is funny. The other day Brett was climbing on something he shouldn’t have been and Jack looked at me and said, “This isn’t going to end well.” He has the knack for picking up phrases we say and using them at just the right time so they are hilarious coming out of his mouth. While I am so proud of every accomplishment and milestone Jack reaches, I also look at him and wish he would never grow up. I’m not sure if it is a “Jack thing” or a “first-born thing,” but every time I realize how big he is getting, it is almost bittersweet. This strange mix of excitement and pride, with sadness and longing to keep him little. While I see so much of myself and Troy in Jack, I also see that he is becoming his own person. And as much as I want him to stay my little boy, I also love being surprised by and getting to know the Jack that is emerging.

Brett Casey at One

Brett Casey at one: • Brett is a Mama’s boy. There is something about Brett that absolutely warms my heart. And for Brett, there is something about me that makes him light up when he sees me. While I obviously love both my children, I have different relationships with each of them. Brett and I have a special bond that makes us able to simply make each other feel good. Sometimes when Brett is playing he comes over to me, gives me a hug and a snuggle, and then goes back to playing. Like he just needs that for a minute. When I have had a rough day, I walk in, scoop Brett up, and he just wraps his arms around me and snuggles. And somehow, things just seem better. • Brett is a man of few words. While I worried that he took so long to talk, I have now realized he just waits until he has something to say. If he is in the mood, he will play the “Can you say…” game, but he doesn’t often talk on command. I’m learning by simply watching and listening closely that he says far more words than I thought. They don’t always come out right, but I have figured out what they are. His new one the other day was “ta-da.” He climbed on the box of baby wipes, balanced himself, and looked at me and said “DA!” • Brett is proud as a peacock of himself. Whenever he does something that he thinks is amazing, which is a lot of things, he just beams with pride. Often, it is when he has figured out how to get somewhere he is not supposed to be. He figured out a way around the baby gate at the bottom of the stairs, sat on the step, and just grinned from ear to ear at me. • Brett is gearing up to be a Sumo wrestler. He loves to eat and sleep. He is not the child that fights taking a nap or going to bed. When Brett gets tired, you ask him if he is ready to go night-night and he finds his blanket and runs to the stairs. And Brett is always ready to eat. He can finish a meal and will walk into the kitchen five minutes later and try to get a banana off the shelf or point at his cereal bars and whine for one. The child is a bottomless pit! • Brett has somehow won the affection of our nine year old cat. I feel a little bad that Sammy has never really warmed up to Jack, but absolutely adores Brett. Jack has never noticed this, so I don’t worry too much. And Sammy has come around a little with Jack. But Sammy will seek out Brett. Then he will sit patiently while Brett “pats” him rather roughly, pulls his fur, sits on his tail, examines his ears and whiskers, and so on. Sammy rarely gets up and walks away and never swats at Brett. Maybe Brett is an animal person from before birth. I’ve read that animals can sense “animal people.” Our cat Riley, who passed away last spring, was obsessed with lying on or near my belly when I was pregnant with Brett. I guess we can say Brett has “animal magnetism!” • Brett will sit and figure things out. He is amazingly patient in those times. After playing matchbox cars with me and Jack one day, Brett took a piece of the track and sat in the playroom by himself until he figured out how to put one end of the track on a box and then slide a car down the track. He still wanted to play cars, so darn it, he was going to figure out how to do it on his own! I’ve noticed he likes to figure things out, and is perfectly content to sit by himself and study something until he understands or makes sense of it. Brett just makes me smile. Even when he gets scolded, he has this adorable pouty face that he makes and I wonder how he can get his bottom lip out that far. Brett is quite the character and each day I am more convinced that his goal in life to make others smile, especially his mama. So far, goal accomplished!

What I Should Say More Often

I am a glass half empty kind of girl. A waiting for the other shoe to drop type of person. While I wish I was different, I have come to accept that I naturally gravitate to the negative. I have also accepted that this means I need to work harder at being positive when I should. And I definitely need to work harder at being more appreciative. Perhaps no one deserves appreciation more than my husband, and I should definitely say it far more often than I do. Troy never tells me no – even when he sometimes should. He says he wants me to be happy. So when I want to buy something, he says go ahead. When I want to go somewhere he says sure. When I wanted to take out a huge student loan to get a Master’s Degree in the middle of the worst economy the two of us had been alive for, he said if I wanted to do it, then I should do it. He loves to see me happy, and I appreciate that. While I often give him a hard time that he isn’t as supportive as I think he should be, that is often the negative side in me coming out. When I was getting that Master’s Degree, he took over watching the kid and cleaning the house and cooking the meals whenever I needed him to because I had papers to write or books to read. When I complain about my job, he tells me to quit and we’ll figure it out (thank God the Type A, non-spontaneous side of me never follows through on that!!). And the last few months, when my world has fallen apart with the issues and struggles with my family, he has talked, and listened, and hugged, and simply been there more times than I can count. He has dried tears, calmed fears, and tempered rage like no one else ever could have. Troy, unlike me, expresses appreciation each and every day. He makes the coffee every morning. He turns out all the lights and locks the doors every night. He tells me dinner is great even if it is fish sticks and tater tots, and even if it is a little crispy or underdone. He tells me I am more beautiful now than the day he met me, even when I have my hair in a ponytail and a mashed banana on my shirt. He kisses me goodnight and tells me he loves me. So while I don’t say it enough, I appreciate my husband more than he will ever realize. Happy Valentine’s Day to the love of my life!

Why I Love Facebook

I am slightly addicted to Facebook. I admit it. I was so excited to get my new cell phone this summer because of the better “Facebooking” capabilities. I often check it before I go to bed. I sneak peeks during the day. But for me, Facebook has become much more than just a time waster (although the Facebook Majongg game is purely a time waster!). I love that I have reconnected with friends from high school, and even earlier. I found a friend that had moved away in middle school. Making these connections years later has shown me so much that I would not have otherwise known. I am amazed at the similarities I share with so many high school friends. Now that we are all moving into the stage of life where we are settling down into careers and families, I find it fun, and at times comforting, to see that everyone else has the same joys and struggles that come with raising children. As we have all grown up the silly social constraints of high school are gone and I actually know about some people from high school than I did when we were teenagers. I love to see what people are doing now. I also love being to share in a tiny way in the joys of their lives, even if it is just with a simply “like.” I also feel I have much stronger connections with some of my extended family through Facebook. My aunts and cousins that live scattered around the country are now a part of my daily life. I see what they are doing, and what is making them happy, sad, angry, and every other emotion. When I am having a tough time, and my status shows it, I feel their support through all of the comments. Having this more frequent communication with them has helped me to know more about them and their lives. I talk to them more. I feel closer and more connected to my family. So while I have friends that have made fun of my Facebook activity, I wouldn’t give it up. Many times, my “Facebook friends” know more about my life than those friends that tease me. And I also sometimes feel more support from those that have a window into my life on a daily basis than I do from those that simply catch up when we can. My life often doesn’t allow me much time to catch up with friends. But I can hop on Facebook for two minutes and find out what 20 people I know are up to. I’ll stay addicted.

Lost and Found

In recent months, I have felt a sense of loss as far as family goes. The events with my mom and her health have certainly brought my sister and me closer. I never could have made it through the last four months without her love and support. However, I felt a deep sense of loss with the rest of my family. My mom has just not been my mom. With the head injury came much confusion. While it is getting better, I don’t feel like I have “my mom” back yet. Decisions regarding my mom’s care have driven a wedge into my relationship with my dad. All of this has created a deep sense of loss and much sadness. While both my parents are certainly still alive, I have lost the people they once were. I was reminded of the expression the other day that when God closes a door He opens a window somewhere. This could not be more true for me. As my mom has settled into life at the nursing home, I have discovered a second family of sorts. The staff, residents, and other family members at the nursing home have become a family to me and my sister. When I haven’t been to the nursing home for a few days, I find myself not only missing my mom, but missing the rest of my family there as well. The staff that care for my mom have grown very fond of her. I have this in common with them. They are very approachable and know my mom’s daily health far better than anyone else. They are quick to answer any questions I have and go beyond a simple answer to share the bigger picture of her health. They have eased worries and celebrated successes just as a family member would. The family members of the residents and I have a special bond that comes from shared difficulty. They all know how hard it is to move a family member into a nursing home. They know how difficult it is to see someone you love so deeply struggling with the loss of so much due to illness or disability. While we may not talk about it, we all know the pain and sorrow we have felt. And we all respect in one another the determination to simply be there as much as we can. There are the few family members that we see on a regular basis. The wife there feeding her husband every day, the daughter there for lunch with her mom, or the husband that spends his days by his wife’s side, watching the news and reading the paper. I have grown to think of these people as extensions of my own family. If they are not there for a day, I step in and talk at lunch, or say hello, or offer a smile to their loved one. The residents have found a special place in my heart. They each have their own reason for being in the nursing home, and their own challenges associated with those reasons. I have had the same conversation with Virginia and Agnes a hundred times. But I have found comfort in the predictability of this daily routine. I have reminded myself with a few residents that when you get to be in your 90s, you have earned the right to be bossy or grouchy, and I smile when they assert this right. I have found a special place in my heart for George, who is overcoming the challenges of having a stroke each and every day. He maintains as much independence as he possibly can and always has a thumbs up and a smile for me. George has taught me that I have more compassion than I knew I had, and I will be grateful to him for that for the rest of my life. All of these people are the windows that God has opened for me. I know that my mom will not be in the nursing home forever. At the rate she is improving, we are hopeful that she will be improved enough to move on at the end of winter or early spring. And when that time comes, it will be bittersweet. While I will certainly feel joy that she is getting better, I will feel sadness for all the people I will miss. But when the time comes, I may simply have a new spot to visit for lunch some days, with my family.