Filed under: Moving on letting go, The kiddos | Tags: Change, Kids, My thoughts
I wasn’t ready for this. Wasn’t ready to say good bye to the long stretches of rare sun, close the windows and hope for the best as winter blows in, because, lets face it, we will skip right on over fall. I wasn’t ready this year. It seems that’s when change often happens, is when Im simply: Not ready.
When I first decided that I was going to get myself in action and get the kids back, my lawyer advised me to go all the way with it. I never wanted to actually “Adopt” them, not that I have anything against adoption, I just didn’t want to replace their parents. They had parents, and I wasn’t going to replace them. But my lawyer told me that the best option, in this case, our case, was to go all the way with it. For a number of different reasons, but mainly because its been so messy, that saying I would adopt them, fully, would get rid of a lot of the mess.
Even though all the paper work was finalized, and the court had said they were mine, and I believed it (as far as I could) things really havent sunk in, just yet. Josh sort of put the finalization on things, when I got him back, it was final. It was over. There was nothing more that could, or can, be done. They are mine, and that, is that. But it still hasn’t been “Final” per say. It just hasn’t seemed final. Maybe part of it is waiting for something to happen, waiting for the floor to move, and bottom out. Maybe its not wanting to trust, and give in to something that might possibly end up back where we started, I don’t know. But it just hasn’t seemed final.
Late last week, I popped into my lawyers office for a few minutes, and he told me that the final papers were done, with myself as the father, on all three kids. It hit me differently than I expected. Even though, to be honest, I wasn’t sure really, what I was expecting. I wanted to tell him, that I wasn’t their father, to redo everything, and put me back as guardian. I was happy there. I wanted to blurt out that they weren’t MY kids, they HAD parents, and I WASN’T one of them. But he handed me the folder, said a few more things, and shuffled me out the door before I had a chance to blurt out my two cents.
But I never opened it.
Its been sitting here on the desk, and has gotten buried by other papers. Its not that Ive forgotten about them, its that I havent wanted to open them. Havent wanted to see them, havent wanted to go there, just yet.
There are a lot of thoughts that have been in my mind, ever since that day. Thoughts that I needed to deal with before I opened it. Thoughts that were related, and unrelated to the situation at hand, but still thoughts that needed dealt with. Emmy was my daughter. My only daughter…and while the kids are very important to me, no one can, or could ever replace her. The kids had parents…and again, no one can or ever will be able to replace them. I don’t want to try and fill their shoes, because I cant, and I wont ever tell the kids they don’t or didn’t have parents. They know as well as I do, that they had parents who loved them. When I said I would get the kids back, when I made that decision, Molly was part of it, and while I know she wont ever be coming back, putting an end to all of this is like putting an end to her. Like saying her memory, is over. Or, you know, something like that.
And finally.
Am I really cut out for this? Can I really assume the position? I know I already have, but with papers, it makes things all that much more final. Am I really ready for this? Is it best for the kids? And so forth.
This past weekend was really rough. With all these thoughts rolling around, I was faced with a few situations that made me reconsider myself as even an option FOR the kids. Was I right for them? A few days ago, someone pointed out to me that Madison is still insecure…and in a way, I think that comes from me, not giving her the security that she needs. Not being able to tell her that “Yes, this is final” because I honestly don’t know.
But today, we uncovered the orange envelope…the one that was addressed to my lawyer, and had my name on the front of it…and we opened it.
…and it was just all that more final, that they are mine.
Its amazing what a piece (or three pieces) of paper can do. Its amazing what one persons word can do, its amazing. Really. And to be honest, I don’t think this is something that is going to stop, just now, because I have three pieces of paper. Its going to be a continual thing, not just something that can have an end put to it. Sure, eventually, we will all adjust, and learn that its ok to make plans to stick around for a while, but it will always be there, atleast for me, and its nice, every once and a while, to be reminded, that yes….them? Those kids? The ones running wild, screaming, and yelling, protesting, and sharing their germs with me? Their mine.
…and for the most part? Im ok with it.
After reading over the papers we had gotten, Madison was quiet for a few minutes and then asked “So does this mean we can call you dad?”
Some things are harder to accept than others.
Papers were finalized with Josh this week, and in a short amount of time, the last few remains of this case will be swept up and thrown away. Papers will be filed, and lives will move on. There wont be any scraps left behind, because everything has been taken care of, and tied off. Its final…and final, is suppose to be a good thing. It means its over, its done, its finished. There isn’t anything that can be added or taken away. Its final.
But accepting this hasn’t been an easy task.
Because it finalizes a lot of other things as well. Were being shoved off of one chapter and into another, and instead of embracing it and enjoying it, and soaking up every minute of this “New” chapter, Im staring at the back door, wishing for it all to come back…because I don’t want it to be over. I don’t want it to be final, and I don’t want to stop here.
Its hard to be happy, and accept this being final, when it means more than simply ending a long-drawn out case that has been following us around the past four years. It means putting an end to everything that was before, and embracing the future like a long lost friend, and its just not something Im ready to do yet.
A few weeks ago, a friend came to me and told me a long complicated story involving getting kicked out of the place they are currently staying, not because of anything they have done, but because of certain circumstances. Shes waiting on knee surgery, and her daughter is jobless which means that in a few weeks – they would be homeless. I told her if she couldn’t find anything that maybe we could find room in our already small house…but then I got to thinking, and realizing that the only way that would EVER happen would be if I cleaned up a space to put them.
Which meant it was time: to clean out the closet, and make some more room.
Over the past week, I have been moving junk from one side to the other, pushing boxes, and tossing stray papers. Hoping that somehow, someway, I might not have to actually go through those things, because I really didn’t want to. I really just wanted to close the door and forget it existed. Last night I buckled under, and opened box after box. Realizing that none of the stuff that was in there would ever do me any good. That it meant nothing to anyone, that there wasn’t anything about old play-doh and ½ dressed dolls that meant anything to anyone except that one it belonged to, and she was gone.
It’s the finalizing that I hate. The throwing away of memories, and the cleaning up of the old forgotten things.
Theres just something finalizing about it all, that gets me every time. Maybe it’s the time of year, or the situation, I don’t really know if I want to know. All I know is that I wish that with every box I opened and every memory that came out, I could have gone back in time and relived it…for just a few more minutes…
Its good. It really is. To be done with it. To put the final touch on things, and to close the door to the past, and forget. But its never easy, and I don’t know if it ever will be.
I know I should be happy for those I have, and those who are here…and I am. But sometimes, I want to unlock the past and spend a few minutes with the ones I left behind…Sometimes I want to see one more smile, or have one more hug…and sometimes I just don’t want to go so fast, I wish things would slow down and there would be time to process all the change that has taken place. Unfortunately, I know that cant happen, its either move on, or get left behind…and I cant afford to stay behind this time…
Its another choice, another change, another final piece being put into place.
I didn’t sleep at all last night, the wonder of what lays ahead had my mind in knots…I smoked more than I wanted, thought too long, and sat outside watching the sun come up early on, before waking the kids up and getting them ready to greet the morning.
Madison had a faint idea what was going on today, Dylan understood to a degree, but Josh stood oblivious to the fact that today could either make or break his case. He stood there screaming, pointing, laughing, and going about the morning as if there wasn’t anything unusual about the day. I took the kids to day care, and Josh…to court, where I would either walk out WITH him, or without. Unsure of what the day would hold, not knowing if he would cooperate, not knowing if things would be uprooted, or if Josh would be sent to live with some other family, some other place. Or if he would be going back with us…
We rode the elevator, had a few issues involving buttons, and levels, and the fact that Josh pushed every button there was after watching me try and decide which ONE to push. We stopped at every level, and then rode back down…picked up my lawyer, and rode back up…all the while keeping sticky hands away from said buttons…and there we sat.
…and waited. Which had nothing to do with the fact that we were there early, as usual, and the judge, and everyone else, was running late, as usual.
The waiting. Is what kills me. Waiting these past few days, weeks, months…years even, to find out, not knowing, wondering, fearing the worse…it kills me. So its no surprise that I rode that darn elevator atleast four more times to smoke like a chimney before court actually got under way…and when it did, I got the sudden urge to run. Because that’s how I am. Sitting still was almost impossible, in a sense I felt like Josh. Wanting to move, to run, to get up and leave.
Josh was fine, the first five minutes. But then everything broke loose. People were loud, temperatures rocketed, more people came in, others left, noises were here, there, this person talked, that one yelled…and Josh was suppose to “Sit still”, like that was ever going to happen.
I hadn’t ever seen everyone who has worked with Josh, together like that before. I didn’t know just how many people there were, that had either worked with, or were working with him. His preschool teacher showed up, the therapists he has been seeing these past few weeks, his main therapist, a few who worked with him before, but no longer are, his doctor, and…his dad, all showed up to argue their points, or give their side of Josh.
I was amazed, at how much “Progress” his therapists said they had seen him make, even the one who walked away with a bloody lip that one afternoon, agreed that Josh appeared to have “Great potential” and that she could see him “Making progress” in the “Near future”. I sat there stunned, and continually amazed that these people, who hardly knew him, were giving statements that made him sound like there was actually help and hope out there for him…
Josh slipped out of his seat, sat on the floor, laid on the ground, played with the cups, started to squeal, and “Talked” rather loudly to his bear…who followed him along on any random adventure he attempted to do. He pointed to the judge more than once, “Mmm’d” more than one person, and acted as if he was at home. I made a few attempts at keeping him quiet, which obviously wasn’t going to work, and put him back in his chair more than once – before I finally gave up and let him lay on the ground pointing at the ceiling, choking his bear.
Two hours of people talking, his dad arguing his side, my lawyer giving ours, and they let us out so the judge could make a decision…or something like that, maybe he was hot, or needed a break, I don’t know…but we got send out for about 20 minutes. I could tell you the exact amount of time (22 minutes and some odd seconds, I believe) but I wont.
I will say this: Its over.
When we went back in, we were in there maybe five minutes, before court was officially dismissed. I picked up Joshs things, and we walked out. I thanked my lawyer, rode the elevator down, and walked across the street…with Joshs hand in mine.
I repeated it over and over to myself, telling myself it was over, it was done, we were finally…done. But it still hasn’t sunk in. The full impact of it all, the finalization of it all, after waiting this long, and its over, in the matter of two and ½ hours. Just like that…and this chapter of our lives is over.
He said he saw no reason why Josh shouldn’t stay here, that it appeared he was being well taken care of, that there was potential for him, and that he could succeed. He said he hoped to never see him in there again, wished us the best, and stood to leave. He may have mentioned something about Josh’s dad having “Over a year” to get “Things in order” to bring his “Son” some, and not making any attempts a
In less than five minutes, in a sense, he gave us the freedom to live…
Somehow, it doesn’t really seem real, it doesn’t seem to ring true…
I picked the older two up, and Madison hugged Josh, told him she was glad he was still here, and then began asking 20 questions: Could she go to her friends house now, could we go to the beach, would she be able to play outside today, and so forth.
It still hasn’t sunk in…Ive said it before, and I think I might just say it again…
Yea, hes mine.
I don’t think I will always be able to “Proudly” proclaim that hes mine, Im sure there will be times like today when he embarrasses the heck out of me, but even then I will fess up and say “Yea, hes mine”.
…and for once, it will be the honest truth.
I have to go back to my lawyers next week, there are some paper work issues that should be resolved within the next month, but its over. The fighting, wondering, worrying…everything that was started that day, almost three years ago, is over…and I cant tell you what a relief it is…Im not sure words could really explain:
Its over. Its over. Its over.
I would be lying if I said the day came without any extra anticipation. High hopes that had been brutally smashed by this past week, expectations that were close to nothing, and stress that was higher than ever followed me into the court house this afternoon.
This morning as the kids ate breakfast, and I shuffled around trying to remember the basics like where the keys were, why the coffee wasn’t going, and where I had set Dylans paper. I told them, that today we went to court. The sound of spoons hitting bowls and happy chatter screeched to a halt. Its not that they didn’t know, they, like myself, were equally worried about the outcome. Its not that I havent told them everything, its that I havent let on that things were going to end good today, I didn’t want to give them false hope that everything would continue the same as it had started, I couldn’t give them that, and as I sent them out the door to catch the bus, the only thing I could give them was “It will work out…somehow”…shutting the door behind them, filling my coffee up one last time, and walking Josh across the street to the neighbors. Stopping one last time to hug him real tight, and hoping, hoping, hoping, that it wouldn’t be the last time…
I went to work, and attempted to move about the day as if there was nothing new, nothing unnerving about it…and finally, after months and months of waiting, I was sitting in the court house, waiting for my lawyer, because instead of being late, I was fashionably early. Early enough to give myself plenty of time to stress out about the last minute things, and think over everything I had done wrong that might compromise the outcome. I paced. I thought. I waited. I walked down to get one more coffee, and smoked like a chimney before walking back, to meet with my lawyer, who vainly attempted to tell me that things would work out. Telling my one last time that this was NOT a performance, that we were NOT going to rehearse our lines, because there were NO lines. Something he has tried to drill in me the past few months that Ive been freaking out about everything.
2:30 came and went, and it was closer to 3 when everyone was there, and things could actually start. The ½ hour about send my nerves and I off the edge. What was happening? What was going on? Would they still have it? Please don’t say its been postponed? What about the judge? Then what? What now?
Its safe to say that by the time things got underway, I was about ready to send myself off that invisible edge. Doing my best to appear somewhat competent and able, and not like a nut case right out of the can.
Seeing Joshs dad, was perhaps the final straw.
Its been…a long, long time since Ive seen him, and he wasn’t on my “Top ten things to see before I die” list. Seeing him, is when everything pretty much connected. All the long distant, disconnected thoughts that had been out there, waving around like unraveled nerves were suddenly being pulled together, and the urge to fight like hell to keep that little boy from going back, was stronger than ever.
Its not that he looked bad, its just that his face…is one that I have never enjoyed seeing. The smug smirk that seems to be his constant, is the ever present reminder that this man, this sick, sick, person who claims to be a man, is the one responsible for my sisters death – and while I take a good portion of the responsibility, HE is the one responsible for dragging her away from her family. I realize it was her choices that ultimately ended her up with him…but it was not her choice to die, or to leave her son behind.
There was no way I was going to walk out of court, knowing I had been defeated by him. This, person – if I dare go as far to call him that.
…and any anxiety, stress, and fear was quickly replaced with anger, and a hot madness to keep Josh…
I didn’t look back after that. Not that I really did anything, but I didn’t turn to face him, didn’t turn to even acknowledge him.
Court was long, and intense. Questions were asked, stories told, images portrayed, and it quickly became obvious to me that the only standing point he had was the fact that he happened to be Joshs dad. His biological father, who treated him like nothing more than a bag of dirty garbage, waiting to be hauled out. After he got done dragging up my past, my lawyer did a fairly, ok, scratch that, he did an outstanding job giving the facts how they were, without dragging anyone down. He gave it how it was, with solid evidence to back his talk up, and pulled the files out that the state has kept confidential for so long, at the request of Joshs dad, and pretty much sealed the deal.
I learned a lot more today than I ever really, wanted to. I thought I heard it all that day in my lawyers office, but really, that was just a tip of it. It covered barely anything…and once into the deep nitty gritty of it all, I found myself wondering how Josh had ended up with just the amount of things he has, and not more. I don’t plan on saying anything about that. I don’t plan on talking about his dad anymore, unless he sticks his head where it doesn’t belong. Because as far as Im concerned the judge said it better than I could have ever when he said: Im not sure what you were doing with a child to begin with, you shouldn’t even be aloud to own a dog, let along a child.
Words that will most likely stick with me the rest of my life. Words I wish I never had to hear. Words I hope I never had to repeat.
When it comes down to it, I don’t have full custody of Josh yet, but any rights/custody/visitation rights that his dad was pursing were cut off. I really, couldn’t have asked for anything better.
We go back June 22 to get the finalization of everything, which will (most likely) be when Im given full custody of Josh.
Months of worry, days of stressing, years of abuse to someone who didn’t deserve anything but love, and its over.
Suddenly, everything is coming together, fitting into place, and connecting. The pieces are falling into place, and this chapter will hopefully be ended by the end of next month.
I thanked my layer, atleast three hundred times, and drove home just in time to see the kids off the bus, and pick Josh up, which is when I gave him perhaps one of the biggest hugs I ever have, surrounded by the other two who also wanted to hug and love on him, while he had absolutely no idea what was going on.
Its close to over. Its almost done. Weve just about made it…
…but even now, when things are THISCLOSE to being over, Im not convinced. Im not going to be 100% convinced. I don’t think ever. About why he did the things he did, there are still unanswered questions, and loads of things that make absolutely no sense. I can only hope that this is what is best for Josh. I can only hope he can get the help he needs, and return to being the happy energetic little guy that I know he is…
Maybe one day. But for now. Its one step at a time. One day at a time…enjoying every moment with them, trying to make the best of even the worse situations…and messing up every time I try…
For now…its all we can do…and for now…once again…it happens to be enough.
We were at the store today (it seems we live there as of late) when I noticed the lady ahead of us was staring.
I was in the middle of being pulled in about 300 directions and hadn’t really been paying as much attention to things as I should. I was looking through my wallet for something, that deemed itself important at the time. Josh was hanging over the edge of the cart yelling at top notch some version of a word. Madison was poking in and out giving me status updates on anything from the “Candy selection” to the “Weather outside” and Dylan held a dead stare at some unsuspecting person before he took off running down the isle across from us at full speed.
I yanked a paper out, and caused an avalanche of carefully stuffed papers. I muttered something and dropped to pick them up, when I stood up I noticed the stare I was getting. She smiled. I forced a smile, and growled for the kids to “Get over here, and stay HERE”. The people in the other check outs, of course, had the perfect angel kids who didn’t misbehave, were dressed in organic clothes and never ever tasted sugar laced cereals in the morning. I grabbed Dylans shirt as he came skidding in, telling him he needed to “Stay put” we really needed to get going, and the line wasn’t moving…the kids were buzzed on who knows what, and I was still trying to put my wallet back together.
Josh had stopped screaming but was now tossing things out of the cart as fast as he could, while Madison shoveled them back in, freaking out because “Order! Order! There neeeeeeeeeeeeds to be an order!” she has this thing about arranging items in a cart, and Josh thought it was great fun to wreck it.
“They all yours?” the lady ahead broke the “Not-so-silent” silence.
“Huh?” I looked up from the stack of papers I was holding that somehow had come OUT of my wallet, but just would not go back in.
She pointed to the kids. “Are they all yours?” she smiled again.
…and for a brief moment, I considered telling her the same line I told everyone “Uh, no, their my niece and nephews” But I stopped…and for a few brief seconds, life paused…and in slow motion, in the matter of seconds, I watched as Josh smiled and tossed the eggs to the ground, while Madison started screaming and Dylan started laughing. I didn’t have time to react, didn’t have time to stop them, but I smiled back and nodded
“Yep…their mine”
She nodded.
…and just like that, they were somehow…mine.
It’s the first time Ive really acknowledged that they, the kids, are mine. Something about saying it, made me think that I would be dismissing the fact that they had parents, capable parents – or, would be capable, if they were living. Something about it seemed to define the end, and put a stop to it. Maybe it was an excuse, a simple way to say “Their related to me, but Im not responsible”
I don’t know why, why today, why then, when I saw the mess that was coming, I decided that they were mine.
But I do know this, as I watched the blonde head bob up and down in excitement like a monkey at the zoo, and as I watched Madisons hands grab her face as she started to scream, and Dylan laugh…I knew they were mine.
They are mine.
While I wont be a replacement, and while I wont ever, ever, ever try to replace their parents…that doesn’t mean I cant claim them, the mess’ and all.
We walked out of the store, $25 shorter, with 3 broken eggs and more candy than I originally had bargained for…
I grabbed Joshs hand, and watched as Madison and Dylan raced to the car…and then gave Josh the ok, and we sprinted across the parking lot…smiling and laughing, together.
Filed under: Moving on letting go, The kiddos | Tags: Josh, Madison, Looking for answers, Its a new day
Sometimes, I have to wonder whos raising who…because while logically, Im suppose to be the one raising these kids…it seems like more often than not, its them, that picks me up off the floor…or atleast, gives me a reason to get up.
Ever since Wednesday when I found out a few things about Josh, my mind has been in a whirl of confusion. It seems every time I look at him, or one of them, the papers form an image in my mind, and I cant shake the suspicion that there is more there than meets the eye.
I havent told the kids, because I don’t know WHAT to tell them. But as it would be, its them that usually explains things to me, not the other way around…
Last night, I put them to bed, fumbled through their nightly routine, pulled the covers over Madison, said good night to Dylan, and made sure Josh still had his bear before I closed the door, and met up with my thoughts in the kitchen as I put away the dinner. I caught myself standing still a few times, just thinking…or trying to think. My thoughts wandered from Josh, to my sister, to what she could have EVER seen in his dad, and back again. I know people say kids are resilient, but I cant help but wonder if this is something Josh will recover from…if he“Just” has autism, or if there is a combination of different things going on with him.
I made my way to the laundry pile, and stared into the washer as it filled with water, I added twice the soap, forgetting I had already added some, and then stuffed in some clothes – watching, waiting, wondering all the while, if this was something I should be doing…washing clothes for kids – who obviously need more than I am capable of giving them. I grabbed the pile of clean clothes and headed out the living room, where I stood, sorting, folding, and attempting to piece together something – anything really, that made sense. The door to the kids room cracked open, and I heard feet slowly go across the hall, and then into the room where I was. I looked up. Madison stood there staring at me.
“Whats up?” I tossed her a towel, and she grabbed it, joining me in the heap of clothes that needed folded. We stood there, her and I, in the silence of the night, folding clothes that had most likely been clean for a week. I watched her as she naturally folded the shirt she was holding, she tossed it in a pile, and reached for another. Things she does, seem to come so naturally to her…she knows things that I guess she was just born to know, things that I know I didn’t teach her, and I know she didn’t know at 8. Shes grown up so fast, its almost hard to believe. I see her standing somewhere, catch a glimpse of her, and wonder when that happened, where she came from, and why the eight year old spunk is somehow inside of this girl who is on her way to womanhood, something I know absolutely nothing about.
“Can I throw this away?” her question jerked me out of my trance I had been in…all thoughts lost, I looked at the piece of material she held, something that once was a sock, or shirt, but resembled a rag at best. I nodded…and she started talking about needing new socks, about her friends at school, and her plans for the weekend. “What happened with Josh?” her conversation suddenly changed, and her voice dipped some. I shot her a confused look, and wondered if something happened before I got home from work. She folded the tops over on some socks and continued “You’ve spent a lot of time with Mr. M*****, somethings going on with Josh…whats wrong?” I was quiet a few minutes, and then worked out something to the effect of “Just working the kinks out before we head to court” hoping it would satisfy her questioning mind.
She was quiet a few minutes, and as if she had read my mind she sighed, tossed down the pile of clothes she had and started off again “If Josh could talk…you know what I think he would say?” she looked at me, a smile forming across her face, I ditched her look…”I think he would say hes glad to be here, and that hes glad you are going to keep him…” I cut her off “What makes you say that?” She smiled again. “…’cause that’s what Id say…and I know that’s what he would say…” she continued on a few more minutes, but suddenly nothing mattered…her words were just words, lost in the air between her mouth and my ear.
Just empty words, empty space, that meant the world to me…she wont know how much weight her words had…and even though we exchanged a few more words than those I said above, I don’t think I could ever thank her enough for what she said…it answered more than one question I had, it gave me the motivation I needed to pick up, and move on…
We finished the clothes, piled them up, and stuck them back in the laundry room. I hugged her one last time, and watchedas she disappeared behind the wall. The door closed, her bed creaked, and 20 minutes later, everything was silence.
***
I lay there a few minutes, wondering why I had suddenly waken up, there was no need to be up at 4 in the morning, but something woke me up…I lay there listening to the quietness before I heard something from the kids room…muffled whines…Josh was up. I got up and went in to see what was up. Figuring he would go back to sleep minutes later, I didn’t want to risk him being up the rest of the night…but I didn’t want the other kids to wake up either. I opened the door. The warm air blew out, and he continued to whimper. I walked over to his side of the room, and saw him standing up, holding the edge of his crib (yes, he sleeps in his crib, deal with it – he does). I figured he had dropped his bear, and so I whispered to him that we would find it…
15 minutes later, I stood there…his arms wrapped tightly around me, while his hot breath blew down my neck…
…and that’s when it hit me…
This…this right here…is why Im doing this. Its not because of me, its not because of anything else…its because of him, because of them, because they are still kids…who deserve a better life than I can give them, but cant risk to let someone mess it up…Hes four years old, hes got a life time ahead of him…and I plan on being there to watch as he runs through it…smiling and laughing, like he should be…
Were going to do this. We WILL get through this. It will be ok. It doesn’t matter what happened, it only matters what will happen, and what will happen, is they are going to grow up, and live a happy, healthy, normal life, despite the things that come their way…and they have already proved that…All I have to do is stand by and watch…and occasionally hand out a hug, or two.
Filed under: Good for nothing thoughts, Moving on letting go, The kiddos | Tags: disconnected & random, Kids, My thoughts, Siblings
{I started this a few weeks ago, and just now got around to finishing it.}
“You never know how much you miss something (or someone) until you don’t have it”
I was sitting here thinking about things, trying to decided how to word things today. How could I word the way things were, with that heavy load of doubt that has been tangled up with me this afternoon? How could I somehow manage to tie this month up, when the end of this month is a difficult time to remember…and as I sometimes do, I flipped back to see what I had said last year.
Last year, as most know, I didn’t have the kids. Last year, I was fighting to simply keep a job and stay sober…last year I was still in the process of proving myself capable…so what DID I have to say about things? What was going on, last year this time…
I don’t usually find things I wrote in the past, to interesting, or fascinating. Most of the time I think “Yea, ok, whatever. Im not sure what I was thinking…” But this time, something caught my attention. I was talking about coming out of a dark time in my life, wondering when things had changed, and what had happened…a topic that hasn’t been on my mind for a while, because some how, in the chaotic mess of things, I forget to see how far things have come, and only worry about how far we have to go – the long, long, LONG road that lays stretched out before us, barely touched.
..but this really grabbed my attention:
“I want to see things for how they really are, and not how they appear to me. I want to be around a while yet, and see how the kids grow, and who they become…I want to watch them succeed, and I want to be there the cheer them on…even when they dont…I dont want to spend the rest of my life fighting to stay out of the dark…the back there. I want to stay out here a while…if that ok.”
Funny enough, tomorrow will be one year since I wrote that.
…and just like that, my thoughts were changed. Last year…I didn’t have any of this. I didn’t KNOW any of this, I hadn’t been through this…
Last year, I didn’t have three kids, two jobs, and chaos at every turn. Last year, I didn’t know the overwhelming sense that comes when all three kids are asleep and you finally realize that you’ve made it…another day, Last year I wasn’t celebrating small accomplishments, I wasn’t celebrating birthdays, or signing papers, I wasn’t washing clothes, and glaring at the dish pile…last year the house was empty…
…and today, when I get to thinking about how far we still have to go, and how screwed up things have the potential to be, and just how hard things might get this next month…I can look back and celebrate the small things. Things that not the average person would really even care about, but things that have made my day, and cracked a smile. The things that people say not to worry about sometimes, are the only things worth remembering.
The small things, are the things I almost missed out on…the things I almost forgot about, and let slip on by…
Things Like:
Noticing how tall Madison has gotten.
Dylan playing soccer
The way Josh’s eyes light up when his “Heros” walk through the door.
Hearing the kids laugh.
Stopping long enough to pay attention to the little details.
Getting a report card that pretty much says “He might pass!”
Knowing you got through another day – without drinking.
Watching the laundry pile grow – in size.
Laughing until it hurts
Washing dirty faces
Telling bedtime stories
Cleaning the same mess up for the 10th time in a row
Seeing the light bulbs go off when something “Makes sense” for the first time.
Watching the wind blow the clouds away.
Waking up to find you spent the night on the floor because someone was on the couch.
Going through food, four times faster than you did before
Pushing a cart through the store that is loaded with kids, not food
…and perhaps, the best one of them all…
Watching the kids grow, and change. Seeing how they love each other, even though things are hard.
Filed under: Moving on letting go, The kiddos | Tags: Its a new day, Josh, Kids, Madison
These smiles are too good to pass up
The kids have been informed of Joshs situation ever since the beginning. In a different way, they understand the seriousness of his case. They knew that when he came here, there was a chance he wouldn’t stay.
They also knew that he wasn’t the same as he used to be, and that there were going to be issues, and kinks to work out. Ive preferred to keep it that way, keeping them informed, and up to date, they are old enough to understand (in their own ways) whats going on, and whats happening. They are old enough to know when something is wrong, and can sense that something is different…they often know things before I know them, and so keeping it from them wasn’t an option. But this past week, when I got the news that Joshs dad was coming up to try and get Josh…I wasn’t really sure how to break the news to them…
Things have been kind of tense this past week…with that hanging over my head, and not knowing how to tell them, things have been on the edge, and very frustrating. Yesterday seemed to be the thing that sent us all over the edge…while the idea and plan was simple, and good…things didn’t go as planned…and we didn’t get the time I hoped we would have, to sit down and talk things over…and so today, when I had the chance to spend an hour with Madison alone, I broke the news to her about what was up. She knew something was coming, she knew something was happening, she just didn’t know what.
At first, she cried, saying that it was her fault, that because yesterday she got mad at him and wished that her life could be “Normal” that Josh would be taken away. I explained to her that it was NOT her fault, and that we weren’t SURE if Josh was going to be taken away…
We ended the conversation agreeing that things are different, they are difficult and they are hard…but they are worth it…
In between there, however, was something that spilled out randomly from her…something I wondered about, and was in the back of my mind…something I had thought was a possibility, but wasn’t sure. She said that in school, kids have been “Asking” about her situation. Shes always had a group of kids that have wondered – because she lives with me, shes always had kids asking about her parents and so forth…but that she seemed to handle ok…maybe it was just that she was younger, the kids that she was dealing with were younger, and she wasn’t as aware of things. Either way…shes started to become more aware of things…and so have the other kids.
As if living with me isn’t bad enough, shes got the situation with Josh…over her as well. Its added to her frustration, and has started getting her irritated at Josh for (in her words) “Ruining my life, even though hes not”
By the time we left, she was in a lighter mood, saying that she didn’t care what the kids at school said, she would always love Josh – like a brother – because that’s what he was. It stopped me in my tracks, the way shes simply able to accept things…not only issues at school, but Josh as well…
It shed a whole new light on things, especially after yesterday. No. Their lives wont be perfect, and I will be the first to admit that. It wont ever be easy to admit that “Yes, hes different” but it wont ever change the way I feel about him…it wont make him any less important to me, or the other kids…
It will make things difficult, it will make things confusing, frustrating, and down right hard…but it isn’t just because of him. It isn’t because hes here…its because its life…and he happens to be a part of ours…and that’s something Im not willing to let go of.
For now, today, hes here, and hes ours…and for now, today, we will enjoy him – just the way he is, even if he isn’t like “The rest of the kids”.
Filed under: Moving on letting go, The kiddos | Tags: Change, Josh, Thats part of "Growing up"
March 6, 2009 – When I walked in to pick Josh up from preschool this afternoon, I was a little…shocked to find him sitting on a chair in the corner. I instantly thought that he had resorted to his “Old Ways” and taken to his corner again. His teacher saw me, and left the group of kids she was handing papers out to. “Josh got in trouble this afternoon” she said, as if it was something that had never happened to him before. “I guess you could say hes had a rough day today…” She continued. Apparently Josh has been a little pill today, but…who knew? Three different times, he did the same thing, and each time was told not to do it. He would agree by nodding his head in a very serious way, before running back and doing the same thing…all over again. I had to smile at that – because he knows. He does the same thing at home. He knows hes not suppose to and even goes as far as putting himself, in time out.
When I first got Josh, four, almost five, months ago, he was a completely different kid. His days were restricted to corners. Anything beyond that was a far stretch. It took him a good week to get used to being here, with us, and any one else would send him over the edge…or to the ground, where he would scream, kick and toss himself around. These “Episodes” were almost as if he couldn’t control himself, the way his eyes would freak out, scared anyone who was standing there at the time. Over the next few weeks, I tried to find him help, anywhere – but everyone returned with the same answer “Hes helpless”. A lot of the things that happened, I didn’t write about, because even though he couldn’t read, I didn’t want to risk hurting him in the future with words that would only describe certain moments, of certain days.
There were some days, where he was a completely different kid. He was sweet, and funny…and every so often this side would come through, just long enough to let us know that he was still in there. When I first got him, I was told that there was a great possibility that he needed help, that was beyond my capabilities of finding. There was a chance that at the end of three months, the state would NEED to step in and remove him. For the next few weeks, everyone I asked for help, turned us down. Josh needed to be willing, he needed to be verbal, he needed to “Respond” all things that if he were, I wouldn’t be looking for help – but since he wasn’t, they couldn’t help him.
The only person who was willing to take him on, was his therapist who for the past four months has seen him, twice weekly. The beginning of this year, however, he gave his opinion, that the best option for Josh, would most likely be to put him in a “Special Home” where they would give him all the tools necessary to live a “Normal” life -if it didn’t work? Josh was, helpless, and it was…hopeless. At the time, I didn’t see how ripping his life apart would help him, and I made the choice to keep going how we were. For the first few months, it seemed like Josh was making no progress at all. The state would come by to do a “Check up” and Josh would freak, sending the state worker into a frenzy, just seeing him. His first doctors appointment was canceled minutes after we got there, because Josh couldn’t handle the new setting with all sorts of different people. He was “Ok” around people he knew, but in order for him to be “ok” with them, he had to see them a dozen or so times first.
Many attempts were made at bringing him to preschool, day cares, and different settings where his therapist thought maybe different settings with kids his own age, would “Inspire” him to “Act” his own age. But those trips only proved that Josh hated new settings with new people, and anything with the two combined was a recipe for disaster. It seemed that every few weeks there was some “New” “Diagnosis” being made about him, and each time, I would frantically search up and down to see what this meant, at his last “Evaluation” it was determined that he was only “2 ½” not, four…it was then, they decided he might not ever mentally reach any higher age, than that of three – and yet another diagnosis was put on him.
Last month, however, something changed…and suddenly, the shell shocked, scared of his own shadow, terrified to move little boy he was, changed. One day he was more than ok with the kids, and actually seemed to be enjoying time spent with them, his corner time became less and less, and his curious, funny, adventurous self started to come through more and more. We made trips to the store without COMPLETE melt downs, and even started introducing new things to him, things that he seemed to be ok with. It took a few weeks, but after a while, he started willingly going to preschool, and now, actually seems to be enjoying himself. These changes…have been not only apparent to me, but to other people as well.
Hes found doing things that, just months ago, I would have never thought was even on his list of things to do.
Its nothing much, and most of the things hes doing now, are things that most people would expect a four year old to be doing – But its great steps in the right direction. Using the bathroom still hasnt even started to be introduced, and there are other things, that still need worked on…but hes making progress, and at this point, progress that is good.
After his teacher let him out of time out, I walked out the door with him, his hand in mine…caring a paper that he had drawn while he was there. I asked him if he had a good day, and he shook his head. I asked him if he had been good, and again, he shook his head. I stopped, and told him that he needed to listen to his teachers, and that he needed to be a good boy, he smiled…and nodded his head, just as if he knew exactly what I was saying. He understands, he knows, and he does more things that he has before…plus? His attitude, his take on life? His smiling? Well…take a look for yourself…
Were far from “There” yet, but were atleast moving away from “Here”. Sometimes, a little “Light” can make all the differance. Sometimes…it takes a little time, and for now, thats ok. Its just “Ok”
Filed under: Moving on letting go
Happy New Year, from all of us here. Heres to hoping that 2009 is all that you expect, and more.
…and remember:
“May your troubles last, as long as your new years resolutions”
