Fifty and Fabulous Friend

Dear Fiona,

Picture it, 2010 to 2012, wonderful years, hard years.  Time passes, time heals.

My grounding = holding Maya's little hand in mine - tightly and warm, she settled my footing back to the earth.

My grounding = Sabrina's sweet wee sunshiny face, happy and free reminding me that happiness is abundant (do it for her the voices whispered..... do this for her......the voice whispers still), this settled my heart.

My ground = Fiona.

In the late hours of the weekdays, you would show up at my door and packed up my life.  Your two daughters the same age as my younger two - 2 and 5, you showed up.

I was in a fog and immobilized by fear, uncertainty, and riddled with anxiety; I did not know what to do.  You did.

Friends show up.  Friends support.  Friends help find each other's ground with love, laughter, and light.  I moved away and my friend, you along with my daughters still ground me.  

And you are now my emergency out-of-town contact lol!   I know you'll show up ready for action, boxes in hand. 

My friend, on your 50th Birthday, this post is for you.  

Thank you.  I love you.

xo J

don't

You are gone

I don"t know how to love anymore 

How are you little girl?

Dear Layla,

Happy Sunday darling, you're not home today.  You are not at your dad's either.  Two days ago, you started at - I don't know what to call it - a care centre.  Your sisters call it camp, but it's not.

"why aren't you normal, why are you like this so I have to take you there.... I don't have to but I did, and I am not ready......"

I've been dreading putting you into an outside care place since you were about 9 months old - you know, that time when I snapped out of my denial - that you were going to be my special needs baby.

"so much is coming up for me.. why am I not married - ugh.  The thoughts are crazy, I wish you were home, all of your work makes my brain not go squirrel-y and it is right now, I'm going nuts"

You are  only 11 and you are probably wondering where the hell I went, why have I abandoned you.

"I'm crying , I've been crying since Friday, and I don't want this to be your life, I don't want to have to give up on any of my babies, and I'm giving up on you"

I hope you are enjoying and relaxing and getting doted on  (by a bunch of effing strangers that I don't even know".   You're in a home.  It's weird.

You've shaped my life over these past 11 years and I am not sure where to put this particular leg of our journey.

We are going to come and visit you tomorrow, Maya and Sabrina and I - maybe Julia.  I've taken the week off to give myself some time to work through this transition of you getting outsourced.  I know you are wondering where I am, SO AM I.  I don't like this feeling of having to put you in a care home.  UGH!

"make this stop, make yourself not be disabled, just make this go away"

It's Sunday, it's Father's Day.  I haven't stopped crying in two days, and I just wish someone would wrap me up a warm blanket and cradle me.  I'm jealous little dude, you got a team of caregivers to yourself - I just want a good human to grow old with (shoot me right now)

Believe me whoever is reading this, this is very hard for me.

Honey, we have so many amazing, loyal, generous and loving friends and family in our life - we are surrounded and supported but me your mum feels sad and very alone right now.

"Can someone just make me breakfast...."

That's it for now, baby girl, I'll see you tomorrow.  I hope you are showing the caregivers your sass, your fire and your charm.  Give it to them good - that you definitely don't need me for.  I love you and I miss you so much

"I can take care of you fully and completely, I'll carry you forever honeybunny, I'll carry you til I'm dead"

- Mummy xox (Sunday June 20th.2020)

Challenged Parenting

Doing Something. Towards Solutions. 

This time it was late in 2007 and Sabrina was a little over two years and baby Maya was 4 years old.  Michael and I were going through dark times.  He was in a bad place and I was left to hold the fort, but I was in the dark myself.  Unsure of what was happening to my partner.  But I knew this was big and I um, started having what I know now to be panic attacks.  There were times that I was curled into a ball in a corner of a room while the girls played and I would pick a friend of Michael to call.  "What is going on....?"

The answers ranged but were similar in that they listened and told me that I would be alright. No answers but lots of comfort.

2017 and no answers.  But I don't ask questions that no longer matter.

I was not comforted, I was afraid of how I was going to function through this round of tough times.

I found a listing for a parent group in a local newspaper and it sounded interesting.  I called, went through an intake process over the phone and I was invited to meet with this group when it met one night a week.  And there was babysitting so to bring the children.

There was a couch and two facilitators and several parents that greeted me.  After introductions, parents one by one shared.  My turn, I just cried...  box of kleenex was handed to me and I let it all out.  

The next few weeks I cried less and between blowing my sobbing nose in tissues, I started to share and I put everything that was happening on the table.  We would together commisserate, advise, relate to one another, ask question, discuss, refer to authors and books, make notes all while drinking hot cups of tea on big comfy couches. 

A respectful group in a safe place.  I focussed on parenting and on the needs of my children - one step at a time.  Here I was able to blow away the clouds of life and hunker down on parenting skills and building family in times of uncertainty and in times of my own anxiety elevating.

No one thing can fix everything.  But because I had focus and I CHOSE to focus this period on my children's best I was able to find some footing and the parent group helped direct all of this.

I'm Alright

As of 2018, I am a divorced woman. 

A good number of people have told me over my years of being separated that due to my "baggage", I probably won't marry again.  

These many people telling me this are my family members.  Opinions full of support and wisdom and oh such hope.  My family members refer to my life with my three daughters as "baggage".  You wondering where I'm headed with this?

Here.

Maya, Sabrina and Layla don't like being referred to as baggage. They think it's rude and mean.  They take offense to those words, as they should.

By the way, I tell my 3 baggages things.  I tell them to respect their elders.  But please do honour the feelings of whatever comes up for you behind that respect. I can't be responsible for other people's actions, but I can best guide my girls.

What I don't share is my family members telling me that no man will take me for more than a sex object, because of all that baggage.   

The people saying this are stupid.  

This talk is not supportive nor is it true.  You call my life baggage, I will correct you.  

I will marry again. And to that future man of mine, you will be the luckiest guy in this good world;  My kids say so.

Hugs n kisses (just not to the stupids)

Jen

Merry Christmas 2019

Good morning Layla,

Today is Sunday and it's breakfast time.  You are awake and cheerful.  You are 10 years old, wow.  You are so special, with that beautiful smile.

 "Why?"

Because,

That's how nature, God, science made you.  And your being a unique person means that we, your family, build our own story as we raise you, share our lives together.  

We feed you slowly.  Full of care and patience.  We learn to multi-task. Tidying up is our thing.

We carry your body and we learn how to use our bodies as your carriage.  Our legs, arms and backs become stronger.  

We get more organized, because in a flash,  you could seize or, you can decide to change your own diapers and wreak utter havoc with it.  Our home is streamlined for your care.  We love streamlined. 

In challenging times, we learn how to be patient and find tools to manage our own stress and helplessness.   It is hard for you, and we acknowledge that it is hard for us too.  We learn how to be there for each other, physically and emotionally.  

When you harm yourself, we become your human shields.  Offering you a firm grip.  Protecting you, and soothing you too.  It hurts us when you hurt yourself...

We become teachers, giving you lessons of being gentle to others, and repeating over and over to always be gentle.... gentle...gentle.  

We are learning to protect ourselves so that can protect you.  Maya puts her wrist brace on first before helping lift you and your chair.

We communicate more as a family to talk thru the hard times, laugh more because some of this is funny, and if we have, to we cry it out, so that our feelings are acknowledged and so we can reset.  We say sorry more and check in with our egos often.  We need each other to look after you, so we do.  Unapologetically.  

Layla, you have made our family closer.  Our home, built around your growing physical needs grows more and more beautiful and we love it.  We are becoming amazing designers of creating lovely spaces.  

I think we extend love better too.  We are learning about the implicit quiet nature of love and kindness towards others.  We know first hand the necessity of building a strong,  committed community around us and for us.  We need it, I need it... this is so tough.  We understand what commitment truly is. I am committed to you, sometimes I mess it up but I always recover. 

I am a better mother to all three of you because of you.  I can look after many many things because I know what true committed love is.  I do. 

That beauty that pople see when they look at Maya and Sabrina (and you), it's their inner compassion and empathy shining out because of the simple and oh so complicated act of you being born their sister.

We love our lives more and take for granted less and focus positively as we wheelchair you.  

You are our life guide.  

Thank you Layla for the gifts that are all you.

Merry Christmas my baby. 

The Best

Summer of 2014 and Layla was starting Kindergarten and I had much to do.

Teachers are on job action from back in June and carrying on into summer - it's August and by the end of the month I am to meet with her Teacher and Education Assistant to discuss gradual entry - to discuss this huge stage in her life and mine. 

I am nervous and ready.  But, school is closed, no teach to talk to and, well, looks like school isn't even going to start come September.    For Maya who is 11 / G 6 and Sabrina 9 G4, this was pretty nice.  No school until October!
Nothing happened, so my anxious wait for the start of school was milling in my head.

Nothing.  And then there was something that would change everything....

The principal - Ms Taylor phones me and asks if she could come over and meet with Layla - I mean she already was familiar with her when I picked up the girls after school, she often met and greeted kid sister in the hallways.   But this meeting was to talk about Kindergarten and the Layla Plan.  Coming to my home was unorthodox but given the picket lines, I wasn't going to cross - nor was the wheelchair!   She told me she was bringing Layla's potential EA.  Ok, I said.  What else would I do.

They came and met with me and Layla and we discussed.  In theory this all sounded good.  Little did I know that in a month and a half when school started, that Layla's entry into public school and the years following , would be hand in hand with an assistant who is even more special than Layla.

That fateful day in the Summer of 2014 Mrs. Cameron came into Layla's life  and I tell you .... she is the best thing ever.  And the world (or even only the 12 people reading this post) needs to know this.  I sing her praises as Layla's Assistant, her pal, her care provider, her guide.   My peace of mind.
And I sing her praises now, here in the post titled "The Best", because she is.  The best - not because she is leaving the job, or because anything has happened - but just because she is.