What life is like with E. (#tbt)

The morning begins the way the night before ended; with tiny feet against my legs, as he does not cuddle, but likes to know you are there.  Waking him up is beautiful, and he usually smiles and then, in a tiny voice you hear MeMa…I waited years for that word, and love it every time he says it.  Words from him are precious and cherished by us.  Far from little, years of eating difficulties led to supplements that made my “tiny boy” the size of a 5 year old, at 3.   The day never changes much, from school all day, then home for the night, because routine is everything.  This keeps outings to a minimum, and home becomes a playground of such, to include a trampoline in the living room.  He is the baby in our family and our child that turns little things in to daily blessings and gifts.  Never could I have imagined that he would wordlessly add such a dimension to what I believed parenting to be; nor would I have it any other way.  My husband calls it “next level” parenting, and that is accurate, for it challenges every ideal and thought I have used in raising the others.  When he is happy, it is evident to everyone; and we call him “Super Happy Ethan.”  Let him be hurt or sad, and he is equally as obvious about it.  He loves with all he has, and judges every situation with wisdom that is well beyond his years.  If you looked at him, you would know something was different, but it would take you a bit to really understand exactly what. Our motto?  "You can be normal, but I prefer to be awesome!"  This is Ethan, and this is what Autism truly looks like.  

Nowhere tonight do the trucks run alone.

On the road with the big rigs, the CB radios fell silent for a moment tonight. We lost one of our senior drivers, and the beginning strains of Alabama’s Roll On play in the back of my mind. Some 25 years after first hearing that now familiar song, the words take on new meaning, with the loss of one who brought it into my life. He was an amazing man, albeit a stubborn and set in his ways one…but there are many things in my life that would simply not exist had he not married my mom when I was 5. With him came 5 more siblings, and chaos that ruled our world for the next 10 years…2 am turtle pancakes before a run with Stacy, Sue’s wedding, Steve and Sandy having Andrew…Scott's shared stories from driving and following in his dads footsteps, Shane and rolling down the hill in our back yard in New Berlin, in the cardboard barrel. We all had to eat Total for breakfast, because Paul Harvey said it was best, and you knew if he built you something there would be a date and initials on it somewhere. These were the constants that our lives were built on…but he had an unexpected side. I can do that, was always a phrase you didn’t expect to hear, but when it came to doing a headstand (yep, in the living room, against the wall) or riding a bicycle…and we have the photo to prove that one…he always made you think and not take things at face value. You just simply never knew…I have to admit that I owe at least part of my parenting theories to him, for he never treated me like less because he was my “step-dad” nor did he ever discount my son as one of the grandkids…that was his Papa. My pride in being able to dance with him at my wedding was overwhelming, and a memory I will always cherish. Believe me, there are still times when I see someone who has a familiar logo on their hat, and I will ask them if they know Norm…99 percent will and have a story to share. So tonight, as you get ready to drift off, listen closely and you may hear that voice…low and serious…whisper to you “I am signing off for now, but I will see you again.” And the whine of the truck engine as he drives off into the night, making that one last run, where he can climb in his sleeper and rest. He was my family, my parent, my friend and I will miss him…but my life would have never been the same with out all he brought to it. God Speed Norm…and God Bless. We love you! Until next time...

A tearful Thanksgiving...

...a mother's goodbye.  He left today, 21 years old and headed to the plane, back to serve his time for this country as a good man does.  She stood at the gate, unable to go any further, watching him walk away...knowing it could very well be for the last time.  When, in this world, in our generation did things get this bad?  Why are we sending our sons and daughters over there, to defend others?  Is there no end to this war?  These were questions that ran through her head as she kept up a brave face, told him she loved him and that she was so damn proud of him, hugged him tightly and knew that this moment had to last her a year.  Memories of his life, from the small infant that fit in the crook of your arm, to the young man all proud to attend his first day of Kindergarten...the young image of him just after passing his drivers test, walking to see her in his cap and gown, putting on the fatigues for the first time and seeing him graduate basic training.  A brief life that has such potential, such promise, and yet he is selfless enough to go and protect his own, his family and country, from something far greater than even he could imagine.  This is the personal face of war, the honest and basic truth, and it is in all of us.  Agree or not with our being over there...it is a fact and bringing them home is not the cry that should go up, for they all come home...we want them to all come home safe to our waiting arms, our tearfilled eyes and our overflowing hearts...safe and sound to us once and for all.  This will be the longest year of our lives, and I count the days until I can see that young man take the reverse trip down from that plane and home again...God Bless you Scott...be safe, be smart and for heavens sake, be careful.  I will see you in Hawaii, next year, to bring you home.

Until next time...

An extensive time in-between...

I am going to be a mom again, in about 6 months.  This may be an ordinary statement to most, but I love the follow up that I get to use when asked if this is my first child.  No, I reply, my second...Awww...how does your other little one feel about becoming a big (well, in this case) brother.  I smile, and say...he is not so little, for this baby is due very close to his 14th birthday.  Yep, I grin at the shocked faces and comments of "Are you crazy?" and "He's almost out of the house, why begin again?"  I have to agree that is exactly what I am doing, beginning again, and I believe that I am going to be a better mother because of it.  Let me explain:

  My son, who I will admit is my world, was born when I was 19 (6 weeks shy of 20 and long out of school.)  I worked 2 jobs so that I could spend a year home with him, and just after his 1st birthday, I returned to work, where I have been ever since.  I never planned to have another child, and he was exactly what any mother could want...adorable, well mannered, and creative.  As he grew older, however, I began to think at what age would he be able to handle a sibling?  I wanted to assure that I could still be there for him when he needed me, so any less then 10 years was out of the question.  As he approached 10, the thoughts came back, and I toyed with the idea again, but I was a single mom and not interested in doing it alone....so back in to the "closet" they went.  I have the privilege now, not to be single anymore and the thought occurred to me once again...so following a long talk with my son (and his boys...did I mention he has 4) and an even longer talk with myself...we decided to go for it.  The results are obvious, and we are ecstatic...all of us.  The entire experience is new; from baby gear to birthing centers...nothing is as it was 14 years ago...including me. 

     So, was it worth the wait?  Am I scared?  Am I nuts?  Yes to all 3, for I see my son, not as a little boy but as the young man he now is, not needing me every second and totally excited at the thought of a little brother or sister.  I am scared to death...what mom to be isn't...and I will happily admit to being a bit off my rocker about starting over...but this time I have the privilege of not only age and wisdom, but the amazing man I get to share this with.  Some times we plan out our lives, and we see our future as one thing...but don't get so caught up in "the plan" that you miss the opportunities that are there for the taking.  Embrace the change, for you never know where it may lead you.  Even back into a place you loved years before...just with an extensive time in between.

Until next time...

Neither rain nor snow...

...nor freezing cold weather will stop these kids.  Put on a few layers and go out to support them!!  Hours a day, and 6 days a week is what the band members put into these shows, to say nothing of the time put in to making sets, sizing uniforms and more by their parents.  Dedicated, loyal, hard working and determined would be my choice of description for these kids.  They love to hear the applause as much as the football team, and they deserve our support and appreciation for their work equally.  Take a few moments, and an umbrella, and go out to support another branch of the ever amazing Purple Tornados...the show that they put on is worth it!!!

Way to go NHS Field Band!!  Good luck to all of you...the seniors (Seth) especially!!

Until next time...

Returning home before a long journey.

We all know that every day we are sending more of our boys and girls, young in age but old in spirit, over seas.  My oldest nephew Scott is soon to be one of them.  Home this week on leave, and gearing up to head to Iraq, he is a welcome sight in our lives.  He will be turning 21 on the 27th of this month, and was a graduate of NHS in 2005.  One of his "must do" things was to attend the football game this last Friday.  Of course, Norwich won, and the band stood to play the Tuba Salute (perhaps not the right title)...there on the bleachers, next to his younger brother Seth (a senior this year) stood my nephew playing as the second.  One taking the step of a lifetime as a senior and the other taking a leap as a member of the Army, and going off to a land so very far away...both remembering that little things like a victory at the football game is a memory worth making.  Our lives in school are a mere blink in the reality of our future, and yet, coming home before making the long journey in to the unknown and sharing something as small as a Tuba Salute seems like a moment that will last a lifetime.  Remember where you came from, who you wanted to be all those years ago, and reflect on if you actually got there yet.  If not, keep trying, and if you happen to see a young person still searching...willing to take every memory as if it were gold and treasure it...embrace their love for life....for family...for country and smile.  Life is what you make it...no matter what.  Good luck Scotty, and be safe, for we are pulling for you here at home...The future is what you choose to make it Seth and we know you will create something amazing with you life.  Well done boys...well done!!!

Until next time..

A trip down memory lane.

My nephew is a senior at Norwich this year, and every time I hear him talk to me, it takes me back 15 years.  Band, musicals, football (Go Tornados!!!) were huge in my high school years at NHS!  He even has the amazing honor to have some of the same teachers...the good ones often never leave.  I took a minute to read about the field band, and yep, hes in there for his (I believe) 7th year...and pride that used to fill my heart still soared through my face, and created a smile.  Norwich is one of those places that, no matter where you end up, you still feel like you can always go home.  From our rocking sports teams...go Coach Pluta..., to our amazing musical and drama...Ms. Mayo and Mr. Sands...still kicking it!!  From the urge to wear something purple on Friday all these years later, to the drive to move back home before my youngest starts school, it still rates up there with the best things in my life.  The hotdog lady on the corner of West Park....and many visits there after school....Nina's pizza (I have never found any like it) these are the things that make you long to find a place like that.  I do believe that this June, watching my nephew take that same walk I did...seeing him in that cap and gown, and knowing that he will always have this to call home, no matter where he ends up...will be an honor.  Good things always are...no matter what.