Thursday, May 5, 2011

A letter to you...

Here is a excerpt of a letter that I wrote to Chad's uncle.

Having an active 2 ½ year old can be interesting at times and I think Marilyn is enjoying the experience, 2nd time around. I also think she has forgotten some of the not so great trials of children like tantrums, potty training, excessive whining and the endless guilt trips they give you if you don’t give them what they want. Our other two keep us on our toes in different ways.

Our 11yr old Julia is in 6th grade and is struggling with growing up, school, her middle younger brother and life in general.. all the dramatics an 11 year old could have. However she does love to pick up her flute and play a bit, train the dogs (we have 3), draw, sing, run in track, play soccer and loves her baby brother to bits and pieces. She is definitely the mini mom and a great daily help to me. She does everything except change diapers.

Jackson is 8 and in 2nd grade and reading at a 5th grade level. He is astonishingly smart, grasping concepts that even full grown adults cannot. I know, I work with those adults. He asks all the right questions and is curious about all the right things. He seems to fancy natural disasters in that he becomes fixated on how they happen and how they can be prevented. We have had some interesting talks about mother nature. He is a great baseball player. We spend three nights a week watching him play and it really brings our family together. Jack does struggle with his ADHD and we have had to play a bit of medication roulette this year. He is currently in a good place but meds don’t entirely handle the effects of ADHD. It is a condition that needs daily attention. We spend a lot of time re-directing his behavior and protecting the other kids from feeling a lack of attention when we have to focus on Jacksons needs. Because he is such a smart kid he understands his condition and that in itself can be heartbreaking. Sometimes I wish I could live in his brain for one day and see what he is feeling. I get a glimpse of it by looking in his eyes but he never stands still long enough for me to really understand. There are mornings, before I wake him up that I will just sit and stare at him because I know as soon as his feet hit the floor he will be like one of those tornadoes that he is so curious about.

I read these quick summaries of my children and I feel like I am not capturing the real essence of them. I need to do that. I need to focus more on what their spirits look and feel like. The way James skin crinkles around the eyes when he laughs that big open, belly laugh and the sound of his bare feet slapping, it is so much heavier than Julia or Jacks. Julias glorious curls that bounce as she walks. I can tell what kind of mood she is in by that bounce. Jackson dirty fingernails, hiding all the secrets of his day. Thats the good stuff, the neat stuff, the warm stuff.

Nothing much has changed.. has it?

I took a few days to let the news of Osama’s death sink in. It brings back the tragic memories of 9/11 and reminds me that everyday could be our last. We don’t know when our Lord will bring us home. I don’t think any of the victims of 9/11 thought that it was going to be their last day on earth. If we knew when we were going to die would we live any better? Would we be better people? I wonder if Osama lived everyday as if it was his last, knowing that he was the most wanted man on the planet? I was sadden when I heard his 13yr old daughter saw him shot. Even more so when I read that Osama was raising her to kill as well. I feel for her, she had no choice who in the world would be her father. She didn’t ask for it. I don’t really speak much about terrorism or politics, I tend to sort of keep my opinions to myself.

In my lifetime Obama will be the first real president that I ever listened too. I mean I really wanted to sit and watch or wanted to hear what he had to say. He did something that not many people would do. I applaud him for his bravery and his trust that his choice was right. I wonder if he prayed about his decision before he made it.

I saw that second plane crash into the World Trade Center on the morning of September 11th and I was in bed Sunday night on May 1st when I saw President Obama announce Bin Ladens death. Everyone talked about closure and there doesn’t seem to be any closure for me. In fact it wakes up the old feelings a bit. Why would I want closure really? I mean I lost some tint on my rose colored glasses that day but physically I was ok, my family and friends were ok. Mentally I took some blows. I guess thats what makes the difference. And how do you feel closure on history. Do we have closure on JFK or MLK Jr. Those people who stood on the street while our president was assassinated, did they find closure when suspected shooter Oswald was killed? I am just processing all of this, more so for my children really. The questions will come… this time I won’t have one little 2 yr old baby girl. This time I have 3 sets of eyes and ears and mouths. Mouths that will start asking questions that I just don’t know the answers too.