my sweetest boy

Happy birthday my sweet baby boy. While I have enjoyed watching you grow I am also saddened to see the time passing so quickly. It seems only yesterday when I held my little boy in my arms and now you walk around and jibber jabber constantly.

Your sweet smile brightens each day and I am in constant awe of your laid back attitude and calm personality. I love that you must "figure out" how things work and take great pride in doing these things.

While so many seem to poke fun at the fact you are a "momma's boy" nothing could make this mother happier at this point. I know as you grow our connection will change and transform into something completely different but I am most happy to be your protection, comfort, and desired at this point.

Thank you child, you have truly awakened me to endless possibilities by doing nothing other than being yourself.

I look forward to what the future holds for you but I am hoping to savor this fleeting moment of my sweet wee one. Take your time growing up, because I am so enjoying it!

I love you son, now and always!

from the sporting world

The girls are playing soccer. The girls are only 4 and they are learning. Soccer this year ( our first but the second or third go around for other families) is more like a workshop. The kids come and are learning the fundamentals of the game.

They learn to properly dribble, pass, and kick the ball. They learn about not using your hands, they learn about being on a team.

I have noticed however that with my children entering the sporting world so come the parents with complaints. Oh my goodness, the constant complaints. Why aren't there teams? Why aren't we playing games instead of "learning"?

The parents are cheering from the sidelines as if a scholarship is on the line. "Come on Brandon, push to the goal....score...come on push." "Jill, get up off the ground and chase after that ball"

I, however, am excited the kids are learning. I'm a big supporter of keeping the competition down to a minimum since our children are so young. A 4 or 5 or even a 6 year old (in my opinion) doesn't need the pressures of winning and loosing.

I've been there....I have had "my game" critiqued on the ride home. If I had only ran faster, jumped higher...played better then maybe the game would have been won...not lost. What little child needs that?

How are good athletes made? Well the first response would probably be practice. And yes, that is necessary but so is FUNDAMENTALS!!!

Tiger Woods wouldn't be the amazing golfer he is today if he hadn't first learning how to properly hit the ball. Michael Jordan wouldn't have changed the face of basketball without learning to dribble the ball instead of just carrying it around.

I also believe that our children are too young to be separated, the good players and the not so good. Suddenly, your child is the last picked....the child who other parents complain about because "they aren't that good, they will cost us the game."

Try explaining to your 4 year old why they don't get to play with the other kids...why they just aren't "good enough".

Why is our country so enthusiastic about pushing our children to grow up so quickly? In the stores toddler clothes look more like teenagers clothing. In the schools kindergartners are bringing home hours of homework. On the sporting fields, children are forced to measure up or get out.

I'm glad that this year of soccer is about learning. I'm glad that my children have a chance to develop positive sportsmanship and a chance to learn what it is to be involved in the sporting world.

I want to keep my children just that, children. While I believe I hold high expectations for my girls I am trying very hard to remember they are just 4 years old. I try to use the time after soccer to instill good sportsmanship and the desire to learn. If they happen to turn into amazing soccer players along the way, wonderful. I, however, refuse to be a parent who fusses at their child from the sidelines pushing the thought that to be worth while you have to win.

Let's allow our children to have some fun...they have the rest of their lives to compete!

the passing of a single year

Today marks the one year anniversary of the shootings at Virginia Tech. Today I have found myself wondering about the students attending there...those that were there last year and those that are gone.

How much difference does a year make? Are there still students afraid...struggling to deal with the terrible happenings? Do they still find the panic that set in that memorable day? Can one year truly change someone, can you truly move on within a single year?

Today, I drove by this beautiful campus...today I saw the countless cars parked attending the memorials of the day. I saw the lights shinning bright over Lane Stadium. I found myself unable to forget the fear I felt one year ago. I found myself hoping that one year can make a difference and that within a single year the school is recovering...has recovered.

I have found that through all my cynicism and sarcasm I can still be rather idealistic. Perhaps the thought of a single year healing those affected is silly and simplistic. Perhaps I'm a little of both.

While I'm sure there are still struggles, may the sadness we feel reflecting upon that day and the heartache that is felt for those that lost their lives not be lost...may we use it in a way that makes us stronger and more willing to help our neighbors.

"Today, we are all Hokies."

once kids...now adults reconnecting

I've been rather reflective lately. Perhaps this is due to the fact that now that I'm in WV I'm interacting with many of those from my childhood. I'm talking and making plans with many of the people I have known since elementary school.

I wonder exactly how these people have changed, grown, and entered adulthood. I find it strange to think of us all as adults. I still remember playing kickball, basketball, and discussing if we should sit beside our boyfriends/girlfriends at lunch.

To think that we have now grown and had children of our own is mind boggling. I can't be that old...but then reality sets in as I see my girls chase after each other on their way to bed. I see my son walk across the floor landing on my leg in triumph. If I have grown and adapted into adulthood then it must mean we all have.

How did the time pass so quickly? How can it be that I've reached the age in which I'm not recognized by my favorite teacher of all time? Have I changed that much??? I know the answer, I see it each day I look into the mirror. I look nothing like I did then...and rightly so (I mean I have had 3 children!)

How exactly do you relate to someone whom you don't really know anymore? This woman is not the girl I jumped rope with...how can it be...she has a child. She speaks of marriage and children and careers. How can this man be the boy I shared my first kiss with? How can one of my dearest friends now be married and a pharmacist no less. How did this happen? Where did the years go??

What do they see when they look at me? What do I see when I look at them? Can those little kids we once were still ring true though our now very adult lives?

I know I have changed from the scrawny goofy child I was once but everything I was at that age still is contained within me. I still see her from time to time when I play with my girls. And, you know what....other people seem to see her in my girls. Just yesterday a woman from the girls preschool told their teacher "I swear these girls look just like a little girl that went to church with my kids years ago." Know what...I was that girl she remembered.

Perhaps those kids I remember from school can still be found within these new adult friends with their very adult lives. Maybe, just maybe when we visit and allow our children to play as we once did, we can catch a glimpse of the kids we used to be.

The only problem...what if those special memories we hold so dear have vanished in this adult life? What if the person we shared such special moments with just isn't that same person?

all in a day's work

Today was a pretty good day. If you forget the fact that I spent most of the day struggling to

breathe...thank you God for snow in April. Other than my sinuses on a rampage today was a step in the right direction for children and myself.

The day started with me preparing the girls for their first day of preschool here in WV. They were so excited they could barely stand it...and I too.

Off to school my little girls went without even a second glance my way. They were excited about learning. "Mommy I'll learn my alflabet", cheered Ireland. "And I'll show the teacher I can write my name." Erin squealed.

Within less than one minute I had officially dropped the girls off into another care and neither they nor I looked back. It was special...it was the way I had hoped.

Upon retrieving my little girls we spend a few hours playing and cleaning then off to our second day of soccer.

The first was...well...trying to say the least. There were tears shed and cries for daddy so I was unsure of what the evening would bring.

Luckily, no tears...instead laughter and questions on how to better play. Erin pelted the coach with questions, inquisitive about if she was preforming what he was teaching. Erin, currently is in love with learning. School...loves it. Soccer....loves it. She is just simply caught up in learning...which she and I are both eating up.

Ireland while excited about both school and soccer decided to spend some much needed time singing and dancing with a new found friend in the goal...instead of playing soccer for several minutes.

While I must point out I took great pride in the fact that I didn't fuss at her or plead with her to return playing...instead I smiled and laughed because in that moment she was the happiest I have seen her in a while. She was so beautiful in that moment.

With all this being said...maybe, just maybe there is hope for my children and I yet. Maybe we can survive each other and become better people because of one another. Maybe all we need is a little more structure and schedule to help us see that it's okay to smile and have fun if daddy can't be around just yet. I believe that the best is yet to come...and I'm overjoyed by the possibility.

small amounts of perspective

Today I helped my mother and aunt replace the winter flowers with spring flowers on our loved ones grave sites. It is a ritual that I've taken part in since I was a wee little girl.

I would venture with my grandmother as she would cut grass around the headstones, replace the flowers, and wipe down the stones if they were rather dirty.

She was one of the only people who cared enough to venture to the family cemetery to care for those long gone. It wasn't a place one could easily visit...if you didn't own a truck you were pretty much out of luck.

Since it was difficult to get to this area my grandmother decided she wouldn't be buried on the "homeplace" but rather would be buried in the Elgood cemetery. "The grave site will be better cared for," she would inform us. I suppose she was driving home the fact that she felt that caring for the stones and sites was of great importance to her.

This job has been overtaken by my mother who I must say does a great job. She takes great care in replacing the flowers with ones that are seasonally appropriate and caring for the overall appearance of the graves. This task while meaningful is full of emotion, it is a reminder that those we love are no longer with us.

Being that I am now a WV resident (oh Lord, did I just type that???) the caring of grave sites has re-entered my life.

I must admit I did not wish to go, didn't feel the need to make the drive, didn't want to face the graves. "That's why I'm being cremated," I protested to no one in particular.

I suppose the main reason I didn't wish to return was because I didn't want to face the fact that life goes on without those we have lost. I didn't want to face telling my daughters that this is where my great grand-grandparents were buried, or that my grandmother and grandfather are buried. I didn't want to explain that yes my grandparents were Nana's mom and dad. I didn't want to face the fact that my children will never know them.

However, I went...I faced the reality. I answered the hundred questions the girls asked. I tried to keep emotion out of it. I tried to be purposeful in my movements and thoughts. Then, my son wanting to explore used my grandparents headstone to stand...smiled largely and laid his head upon the stone. I fought back tears and tried to soak up the sweetness of the moment, fighting the sadness I began to feel.

My son later attempted to sharpen his teeth upon my great grandparents stone while his sisters continued to pelt me with never ending questions about death, dying, and cemeteries. It was a mixture of humor, sadness, and purpose.

It was a reminder that I have indeed "come home" even if my heart still sings to the ocean. It was a reminder of the wonderful memories I have of my childhood...memories full of family, fresh cut grass, laughter, and the thought that it is within the small moments that we find ourselves.

Welcome home Tiffany...welcome home.

no school, teething out the rear, and a broken chair to tie it all up

Currently I'm up to my ears in children. I was hoping the girls would be able to finish the school year in preschool (only half a day 5 days a week....would get them ready for the big start next school year.) but it seems that will only be a dream.

The school called yesterday to inform me that since they hadn't been in a school this year they didn't want them. She then quickly pushed daycare. I being at my wits end and just wanting something positive for my children informed her that no I was capable of caring for my children...they and I wanted school.

"But the daycare teaches letters and numbers," she insisted. I felt the need to point out that my children were doing very well with that...I wanted them to be able to progress...you know be more ready for next year.

I realize that she is making a judgement call but seriously she dismissed my children without even meeting them. Granted they may not be as prepared as other kids in the pre-school but then again they might already be ahead....she's never met them so how would she know?

So, now I'm back at square one with three children, the only caregiver, and a house that is in need of attention if I can just find time away from the needy said children.

Michael is massively clingy right now. He currently has three (yes that's right 3...at one time no less) teeth coming in so he is slobbering all over everything. He's pooping all the time and his nose is running a marathon. He doesn't seem to want me out of his sight much less doing anything but holding and comforting. I understand because cutting 3 teeth at once is enough to make my mouth hurt but I've got things that must must must get done.

Also, to make life more interesting I had a visit from a couple of friends (mother daughter pair) who wanted to surprise me with a visit. The surprise was indeed on me. Within 30 minutes of their visit the pregnant daughter sat on the arm of my chair and it broke.

This was dealt with the mother laughing and saying, "ah it's new you can return it."

Me, trying desperately to be nice and patient I kept my mouth closed. I wanted to scream because it isn't like I don't have enough on my plate without having to attempt to find a way to return a damaged chair. It isn't like I have a truck to return it plus the chair won't exactly fit in the van with 3 children inside.

I don't mind returning it, but to have the mom laugh it off as if it doesn't matter really hurt my feelings and made me angry. Breaking peoples things is never good but to act like it doesn't matter makes the situation worse.

When I visit some one's home and I or my wild children break something I offer to fix it or replace it at least.

I'm just frustrated because when something like this happens and you are dealing with friends how are you suppose to react? How should the situation be handled? Am I being silly or am I within my right to be irritated by the lack of respect for my home and possessions within said home?