Can I get off the roller coaster now?

The summer of 2010, my hubby and I decided to take a road trip (well, I decided, he had no choice really). We were going to visit friends in north jersey, then make a stop in Scranton, PA (the hometown of one of our favorite shows, The Office), then head to Niagara Falls, Canada.  On the way home, my husband simply wanted to go on roller coasters.  So for a month, I researched and planned, and found that Hershey Park was one of the best places we could go.  But, 2 days before we left for our road trip, we found out I was pregnant (with Robbie) and was told no rides, absolutely not, even though I was only 5 weeks pregnant.  So, I stood in line with him, in the July heat, and watched and took pictures as he went on the rides alone.  Last summer, we went to St. Petersburg, Fl, for a job opportunity training...and flew into Tampa.  I knew he wanted to go to Busch Gardens, so I had started to do pricing for that trip.  I already knew I was pregnant with Rango, so rides were again out for me--but how I missed the thrill of roller coasters!  The spinning, the speed, the surprise!  Needless to say, after Rango died, I made sure we went to Busch Gardens, and we went on every single roller coaster we could.
But lately I feel like I am on one big roller coaster.  My days are either full of adrenaline, or full of my stomach tied in knots and turned inside out.  I understand part of the grieving process is the extreme emotional output I'm going to have.  My highs are really high and my lows are lower than I've ever felt--to the point of not wanting to get out of bed in the morning.  There's no middle ground, subduing emotion.  Its either one extreme or the other.  And this constant back and forth is driving me mad.  I desire nothing more at this point to be emotionally healthy.  I want to stop crying at little things, or feeling sick to my stomach when I hear other women talk about their pregnancies or see babies.  I want to be happy for other people when they are pregnant instead of angry.  But when I get myself in a frame of mind where I feel "okay" and can handle whatever life is going to throw at me next, something from left field comes out and hits me.  And there I go, back to the valley, desperately trying to climb out.
I haven't posted in so long because my emotions are all over the place.  Same reason why I haven't responded to emails.  I get up, get my daughters ready for school, go to work, stay busy all day, then rush home to pick up the girls, start dinner, check homework, do laundry, eat and clean up dinner, baths, showers, bed.  And this is my routine.  I try to stay away from the computer as much as I can.  I am finding that it isn't helping my frame of mind in a positive way.  I tend to just find sites that get me even more depressed, and that puts me in a funk for several days.
Its been 11 months since I became a member of this club...hard to believe that 1 year ago I was happily pregnant, running around at my daughter's 7th birthday party, clueless as to what was going to happen in just a few short weeks.  A year ago, we learned that we were going to have a boy, and saw him on the ultrasound moving around.  And with those emotions of the past year, also the grief of losing Rango--who should have been with us right now.  But he's not.  And all the reminders that life does still go on.  Everyone is a year older, my daughters have outgrown their clothes and tv shows (from max and ruby to watching shows on Discovery channel), and instead of Disney Princess we are watching Harry Potter.  My husband turned 30, and I am facing 33.  Our house, while trying to sell it, is showing its age in so many ways (new septic system has to go in, new heater probably before winter).  Its another Thanksgiving, another Christmas.  But I still want to scream, push the pause button and just stop.  The roller coaster just keeps going.  Just when I think I've handled the first curve, the first twist, the next upside down curve is just ahead.  There's no end.  It just keeps going.
I am trying so hard to be positive, that things are going to work out for us.  Everyone else around us is...but I feel like we keep getting knocked down everytime we pull ourselves back up.  I cried the night before October 15th to my husband--a break down like no other.  I have no hope and no faith left.  I gave up--completely.  No matter what I try to do, or pray for, or ask for, I keep getting knocked down.  No offense Lord, I know you are only going to give me what I can handle, but come on...You've broken me so much in the last year, can't I get one break?  Can you go test someone else for a while?  Just when I think things are looking up, there's that twist--that stomach wrencher--that puts you back gasping for air and screaming at the top of your lungs.  I just need to get off of this ride, and find the nice lazy river to travel in for a while.  I could use a change of pace.  But for now, I'm locked in the seat, firmly buckled and my head squished against the sides of the safety bars and the back of the chair.  And the driver/ controller isn't letting me out anytime soon. I just hope when the buckle is released I'll be able to walk down the ramp, look at the pictures and smile, no matter what terror or uncertainty I felt during the ride.

Variables and Constants

“The only thing constant in life is change”  Francois de la Rochefoucauld

First, let me start by apologizing for not posting more frequently.  It has been a terribly difficult month for me emotionally...reminders at every turn of what we have lost.  And I have found that the best way I can handle my emotions is staying terribly busy, so that at night I have no choice but to lay down and sleep from exhaustion!  Its a good kind of busy--positive energy.  I am busy at work, adjusting to being back to my old stomping ground; busy at home, with my two daughters and school and the chaotic-ness that comes with the start of new routines; busy on the weekends, trying new things and making memories with my family; busy planning October 15th's event, an event that is both bitter and sweet, and oh so necessary.  It's not easy.  Many mornings I want to just pull the covers up and stay in bed.  But I know I don't have the time to allow myself a pity party.  As our priest said during the homily on Sunday, why do we think life has to be fair?  That's a misconception on our part as human beings.  And what is fair to us may not be fair to someone else.  And while I still don't think its fair for any of us to have ever had the loss of a child, I can understand the priest's point of view.  Only God knows what is fair for us.  And it also may not be fair for "right now".  Fair doesn't mean right.  We can only hope (there's that elusive word) that somehow, over time, things do work out for the best.  And that is so much easier to type than it is to believe! (by the way, the homily was based on Luke 9: 7-9, the one where the last shall be first, and the man hires workers who work varying hours during the day for him, but all make the same rate, regardless if they worked 8 hrs or 1 hr).  

But in the last few weeks I have come to realize that really, the only thing constant in my life is change.  And I first heard this quote in college during an honors literature class I had to take (i love reading, but this course was a challenge!).  boy, what i wish i knew what I know now!  What i could have shared with the class!!  For those of you who don't know me very well, I am a very strong Type A personality.  I like control, I like knowing what is happening, and going to happen.  I love lists and plans.  The last year especially has been so hard for me because I can't control anything...And I wish I could!  Just control one little thing.  Since the end of summer, I went back to my former district, to teach my former courses, with all the teachers that groomed me to be the teacher I became, to advise my former club (which apparently no one else wants to run), but as a completely different person with a completely new perspective and new found respect and appreciation.  I haven't stopped smiling.  While everything has changed, it feels like home.  I feel a difference in myself, in how I am in the classroom.  Barely anyone knows about the boys...only because I am only sharing it if people ask, or if I feel it is pertinent information (its not right now).  So I also don't get pitying looks and hugs.  At my job, I am me, and I am happy and bubbly, and have a great reputation for being an understanding yet strict teacher.  Its nice.  At home, my girls take the bus to school (another change), and in the afternoon, my youngest takes the bus home.  My oldest either gets picked up by my friend, or stays at school for an extra 20 minutes until I can arrive.  Its a whole new schedule, and the girls are changing too, but still, there is a sense of their need for their parents.  No matter how big they get, they still run to me when they don't feel good, or have a bad day at school.  

So I'm getting used to this permanent state of change.  The minute things get too predictable, that's when you need to expect things to go awry.  I don't have tenure, or have a bigger home, or a problem free life, or a six month old, or expecting a baby in 1 month.  I do have a loving family that I appreciate now more than ever who keeps me on the sane path, I have a job at a school that I know I love and appreciate, with a wonderful support network in place, I have two healthy girls growing bigger and more independent every day, I have a husband who tries with all his might to give me everything that he thinks we may want to need, and, most importantly, I have hope.  

It's the Most Wonderful Time Of The Year....

Yes, my title comes from that beloved Staples commerical, of a parent dancing through the aisles as his children are somber and miserable.

As a parent, I think this commercial is great! As a teacher, I dread seeing it because I know that summer is coming to an end!  But this year, I didn't see it on tv.  One of my FB friends posted it.  And until I saw it, I began thinking about how for me, this really is the most wonderful time of the year.  Sadly, as much as I wasn't ready to go back to work, I was looking forward to it.  I've been getting the girls and myself ready for a month--with clothes and shoe shopping, talking about their teachers and planning the morning and afternoon routines of picking up, dropping off, and bus rides.  I even went to my classroom twice to "get it ready".  I felt good this weekend, relaxed, and ready to start the new year.

For me, the first day of school is my "new year's".  And I was looking forward to getting this year started...it has to be better than last year--right????  And I was hoping that once this year got rolling maybe some ideas would come to me about moving on, on trying again.  If that doesn't happen, at least I'm keeping busy!  My weekends are packed up until November--which is what I want.  I have Rango's due date coming up on October 15th, and the 1 year anniversary of Robbie's death coming up the week before Thanksgiving.  I want to stay busy so I don't have any down time to break down.  It hurts enough to think of the fact that we were so hopeful we could have a baby by the time the year anniversary came around.  It is actually emotionally debilitating to think that in this year that has flown by we have two babies in heaven, not just one.

So, as much as I thought I was ready for September to come, I really wasn't.  I spent last night stressing out, rushing around and tying up all loose ends, making sure my daughters had their lunches packed and book bags and outfits ready to go first thing, trying on different outfits on myself, making sure I had the perfect "first day" look.
And then it hit me...the last time I was in a classroom I was pregnant with Rango.  I haven't been back to work since.  And as much as I had an extended summer, I don't feel relaxed or ready to start school again.  I don't think any of us were truly ready this morning when the alarms went off at 5:20am.  But ready or not, our school year began.  We left the house at 6:30am to start the rush to our 4 different schools!  And amazingly, we all made it in one piece.
My husband went back to the same school he was at last year, and felt comfortable and ready to start the year.  My oldest went back to her old school, and found she had many friends in her class!  My youngest started kindergarten, and was also pleased as punch to find she had old friends from preschool in her class.  And I returned to my stomping grounds and while I was anxious about how I would be emotionally, I found it was so easy--it was like I had never left!  And the day flew by...the jitters went away, I joked with my colleagues and friends, and I don't think I stopped smiling once.  I was happy!  And while my body decided this morning to give me yet another reminder that I was no longer pregnant, I pushed all the sadness and despair away.  I had my fresh start and was able to return to the district I knew and belonged in.
And I did fine up until my last class...when a very pregnant student walked into the classroom.  I saw her waddling down the hallway...and I kept praying please please turn into another classroom, don't come here,  but of course, she came to my room.  And she showed me her schedule, and proceeded to tell me that she was due in October and would be leaving in a few weeks to have her baby.  Seriously!?!?!  I just nodded and don't think I said one word.  And into the classroom she went.  A friend came walking by and I grabbed her. She just learned about my boys last week, and I told her I had to say something because I didn't know how I was going to handle this student.  She completely understood and told me she would check on me throughout the class period.  I knew I would have pregnant students...but to have the one that is due when I was due is just uncanny.  I know I'm going to need more strength and courage than I ever anticipated...but maybe I'm ready, maybe I'm not.  Only time will tell...maybe I can avoid her for the rest of the year ;-)  She is in a big class!
But as I drove home to pick up my daughters and find out about their day, I reflected on the end of summer, and how this is the most wonderful time of the year.  Summer is a lazy time, of time with family and friends, lounging around or going on bike rides.  No certain schedules, sleeping late and staying up past when the fireflies come out.  The fall is a time to get moving again.  Of routine, of preparing, of anticipation of what is coming (Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, snow and cold weather).  Fall has always been my favorite season--the changes in foliage, the crisp temperatures, the way the sun hits in the golden afternoons.  It is a promise of things coming.  And while a trip to Staples might not prepare me completely for the year ahead, at least I can rejoice in the fact that summer is over and its time to move on.  And who knows what the year will bring...that is about as positive as I can be right now.  I know more change is coming.  And whether I like it or not, I am being forced into the next season of my life.  It can only get better from here!

Dreams

Last night I had a dream.  Normally, I do have dreams, but I don't remember them.  Since the boys died (after Robbie and Rango too) I've prayed to have some dream, some way to see my boys to know they are okay.  I didn't get that.  I got other signs--dandelions, pennies and my husband  and daughter telling me what their dreams were about (one or two each, not many).  So, I learned to be content with that.
But last night, for some reason, I woke up and remembered my dream vividly.  And the more I thought about the dream, the more I realized where it took place, and who was there.
I was on my college campus.  It was present time, because I was walking with all my college friends and their kids (M and her son, K and her son, my roomate and her children, another friend M) and we were all our current ages.  Some current friends were there too.  And we were walking around the campus with strollers and bags, showing the kids where we went to school, and telling them stories of what we did.  And I was getting very tired, and wanted to go eat.  So I started questioning why we were still walking around.  They told me we just had to keep walking.  I handed a stroller off to my friend M, who in turn was trying to handle her very active son.  I held her son while we began our steep climb up to our campus.  I asked why we had to go up that road--there was a better road (on the other side of the campus) that we could get to the dining hall to.  But uphill we trudged, with K's son pulling and squirming, trying to get down and run up the big hill.
Finally, we reached the top of the hill, and they told me we were almost there.  I asked where, because I just wanted to sit.  Both of the little boys (D and C) were trying to run around and go back down the hill!  Finally, my friends told me they had to delay me for my baby shower, and if I could please just act surprised, there was a delay at the hotel restaurant, and that's why we were walking around forever.  I complied, but asked if we could please get to the hotel at least so I could just sit and the boys could run around in a contained facility.  They agreed, and off we went.  C and D took turns sitting on my lap once we got to the hotel, because I was sitting on a lavishly decorated swing, with lots of metal work on the top.  C kept trying to climb it to go upside down, and finally got his head stuck inside.  I was panicking, because his mom or dad wasn't around, and I was sure I was going to get in huge trouble!  But when K and M showed up, they laughed, freed C and then took me into the baby shower.
It was Sesame Street themed.  Presents, cookies, little cakes, and all decorations.  Everyone I knew was there, and so excited for us.  I was confused and angry because the family had agreed that if I got pregnant again, there would be no shower.  But everyone told me not to worry...this time was going to be fine.  Then I woke up.
As I went through getting ready, I was sorting out the details of the dream (like why my girlfriends sons were such a prominent role), and why Sesame Street (b/c it was the theme to my first birthday, and my mom and stepdad threw it for me), and why I didn't know I was pregnant in the dream (b/c i was seeing it through my eyes, and obviously i wasn't looking down at my belly!).  I can't analyze the dream much more than "A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you're fast asleep".  I wish I could get pregnant again, and be not stressed out and enjoy it.  I wish I could have a baby shower, but everyone is going to be too nervous to throw me one before the baby is even born.  I wish I could say I'll be positive throughout the pregnancy, but I know better.
But it was nice to dream of a happy occasion, one that I wish I could have.  Where reality wasn't so harsh.  And maybe one day I'll have another dream, showing me my heart's desires, and letting me think, even if for a little while, that it is a possibility in reality.

When It Rains, It Pours

I know I haven't posted recently. Since my last post I have gone downhill emotionally. It has been very hard to try to put my thoughts into words, let alone a coherent blog entry. I thought last week, while my daughters were visiting their grandparents, I would have time to write and reflect. But, alas, southern NJ was hit with an abnormal amount of rain, and instead was dealing with massive, localized flooding. Fortunately, our house and most of our neighbors' houses faired well, with just our local lake overflowing its banks.

Our backyard--complete with a waterview

One of the many water covered roads Monday

There are three lakes; We live closest to Elmer Lake. When the dam was opened, our overflowing lake poured into Palatine Lake, which then opened its dam to make the water flow into Centerton Lake. Unfortunately, Centerton Lake's dam was in need of some serious repair. For the last several years, Centerton Lake has been a dry bed. So there was no need for worry about the dam, so the locals thought. Luckily, because Centerton Lake had been dry, the damage to Centerton and Pittsgrove was not as bad as it could have been. But it caused a lot of damage, and road closures.

Centerton Lake/ Dam Monday

But it caused a huge headache for the beginning of the week. This impended our travelling we had planned for our "staycation". While we had to go around detours to do anything, and our "staycation" had detours of its own. Saturday we went to the Pennsylvania Ren. Faire, which was cancelled at around 3pm (we arrived around 1:30) because of flooding and severe thunderstorms.

The mass exodus from the Penn. Res. Faire (if you look closely the grass is completely flooded!)

The Queen--before the rain

Sunday, the day the flooding began in southern NJ, after going out to brunch and mass, we headed home to change and head back out. But we soon had to turn around as the water flowed over and through the corn fields, because our path out was quickly covered in water! By 4:30, the storms had passed and we had a brief respite from the rain, and rode our bikes around town, surveying the damage. The water was so high in some spots that it covered our back tires. I don't have pictures of this because I didn't want to risk losing the camera in case I fell in the water!
Back to our "staycation":
Anytime Tuesday or Wednesday that we attempted to go do something, mother nature intervened. By Tuesday we were so frustrated that we were fighting about everything. Our week together was turning into a nightmare. This wasn't how it was supposed to go--we needed this time to bond, to communicate before school started. We were picking up the girls Friday, and couldn't wait. We had had enough alone time together. My thoughts were not positive on our relationship. I didn't know what to do to help us get out of this bickering pattern.
But Wednesday night we went to a friend's housewarming. Unfortunately, because I have been having a rough couple of weeks emotionally (dealing with pregnancies, babies, etc), we weren't able to stay long. We stayed long enough to have dinner and visit...but then we said our goodbyes and headed out. As petty as it seems, there was a pregnant woman there, and while all of the adults were being very sensitive, and not talking about the pregnancy (my friend had briefed everyone before we arrived, which i was so appreciative for, but felt bad too), just her standing up, rubbing her back and belly, did me in. I felt the tears start, my throat got hot and dry and choked up. I knew I had to leave. And my husband and friend didn't even question it--they just understood.

We decided since we were 15minutes from Ocean City we would go walk on the boardwalk...why not? We hadn't done anything fun all week. And walk we did, and got gelato, and went on the ferris wheel where Mario proposed 3 years ago (it seems like so much longer!). This was apparently just the spark we needed to get over this rough spot. On the way home we were able to talk about everything that was bothering us--from how we are handling questions "do we have any children yet" and "are you going to try again", to discussing how we feel about trying again, and what happens if this all happens again. We were in a good spot. We were being honest, and open, and communicating. And it meant that I was a crying mess again. Thursday morning we woke up to my mom calling to tell me A was sick and running and fever. We had to run to pick her and her sister up and be back in NJ by 4 for a doctor's appointment. Our time together was over for now...but at least we had Wednesday night. And this weekend, whenever we tried to go anywhere, the weather still didn't cooperate, but we learned from last week to just laugh it off, and make the best of it. If we continue to fight when things don't go the way we planned, its just going to make us miserable and even more disappointed.

As we drove home from the shore today (after another rained out event), I held a box of Crazy Susan's cookies on my lap, and watched the rain hit the windshield. Just like many of us feel around here that we've had enough rain this year, I feel like I've shed enough tears to last a lifetime. And when the rain or tears come, its just not a little storm either. Its a whole deluge, where the volume is enough to break the dam. And sometimes the dam needs to be broken in order to show where the weakness is. Then the areas in need of repairs can be addressed and fixed. Just like we know how badly damaged the dam was at Centeron Lake, and how badly Mario and I needed to just open up the floodgates and talk. If not, the pressure would just build until the damage would be too much, and it couldn't be fixed. And hopefully this week, with our tears and fighting, we saw where our "dam" is weak, and we can work on making it stronger. We've already had so much pressure on our young marriage, and we are about to burst. Most days he and I wonder how we'll make it through. But if we continue to open the dam once in a while to release the pressure, and check every so often so make sure the supports are strong enough, maybe we will weather the next flood. And then a 3rd try, successful or not, may not be as scary.

Expect the Unexpected

A few weeks ago I wrote about expectations, and how I needed to learn to stop expecting people to treat me the way I would want to be treated. You can say its a grim way to look at the world. As a teacher, I pride myself that I hold myself and my students to high expectations. I want them to do better, do more, and be nicer. I expect the same of myself. So to lower or rid myself of expectations of others, including family, has been a real struggle. But this week I have been reminded over and over of the kindness and goodness in others. I am speechless of everything that I've seen and experienced this week just by letting go. They were reminders that 1) I truly am not in control of anything, 2) sometimes sadness and happiness exist at the same time, but in the end looking beyond yourself and working through the hurt, the happiness and joy is much great than the sadness and grief, and 3) There are truly caring, thoughtful individuals who exist still!
This week my husband received a package in the mail. The return address was from the same company that sent me the necklace with my boys names back in June. When he opened it, he found a keychain. On it were two pennies, engraved with Robbie and Rango's names, and a larger circle, with "Pennies From Heaven" engraved on it. Here are the pictures so you can see for yourself what wonderfully touching and sentimental gifts we have been given, anonymously.

All we can say is that we are overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gifts, as they serve as a constant reminder of our boys, and we can wear/bring them with us in our daily tasks. I love my necklace, and no matter what occasion, I will wear it. I wore it to my job interview, I wear it on bike rides. It gives me a sense of comfort. My husband has been inseparable with his keyring since it arrived. Hence why it has taken me until Saturday night to write about it. I wanted to post the pictures, and he's been at work with it! They are tangible reminders that while our boys aren't with us physically (its been 9 months since Robbie died, and 8 weeks since Rango died), they are still a very big part of us, and always will be. So again, a thank you to the person or persons who made this possible! Your kindness and thoughtfulness are so overwhelming to us.

**The shop is wordinspired, on etsy. These are custom jobs, and so well made. Thank you for your gift and craftmanship to make these items that are more to us than just a necklace and keyring.

And, these gifts are also a sign of someone looking beyond themselves, to help a couple in their darkest times. It is such a selfless gift, to acknowledge as a parent what we need while we grieve. And these are perfect! (I will add this one last part--its not a target gift card! these are appropriate ways to let someone know you care and are thinking of them!). they are also totally unnecessary, and we know that they person or persons who sent them didn't have to go out of their way to do this for us. But we are grateful they thought of us and our boys.

One can pay back the loan of gold, but one dies forever in debt to those who are kind.

~Malayan Proverb

I have been surrounded by love and kindness this week. From my friends (online and in real life) and most of our family. Even two of my pregnant friends have shown me their patience and understanding by not pressuring me to see them unless I am ready. Most pregnant women avoid me at all costs, like I am cursed or taboo. But these friends embrace me, discuss my boys, and listen to my endless chatter. One friend, due in January, even took A for an afternoon, then out to dinner (our girls are friends), and bought her school supplies! She wouldn't even let me pay her back--I was speechless, and yet so grateful. She was gagging and in the midst of morning sickness, but was okay having my daughter for a day.

Another friend had E over to play, and had her stay for dinner too. This mom was exhausted (and also sick), after running VBS all week, but it was okay. I hope to repay their kindness soon.

While this week was emotionally exhausting, it did end on another positive note--I was able to get myself together and go to my girlfriend's little boy's first birthday party. I had originally rsvp'd no, and she completely understood. But I made up my mind on Monday that I needed to go--not for me, but for her. And it was wonderful. I won't lie--it was difficult, seeing all the little babies and pregnant moms. But the fact I could get back to being supportive for my friend was worth any moment of sadness I had.

And while I still do think I have to work on not expecting anything from anyone, I am glad that these friends are proving me wrong. I also want all these friends to know how much I appreciate them, and I am so glad they are in my life.

“At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.” — Albert Schweitzer

Thank you for re-lighting my flame, all those who have thought of us!

Somewhere Only We Know

Ok---I will warn you, every time i hear this song I start to cry. so this post revolves around this song. so here's a warning, you might be crying at the end of the song. Its Somewhere Only We Know by Keane, and for most of us, the trailer to the re-release of Winnie the Pooh in theaters!



Today after i dropped my girls off at vacation bible school, i decided to go for a nice long bike ride--just me, my bike, the ipod, and my phone on silent. I knew I wanted to push myself to see just how far i could ride. Now that I've google mapped to see how far I went, I'm not impressed. But I knew it was easy, and I could have gone farther. The weather was perfect--we had some pretty impressive storms last night, so there is a great breeze, the sun is shining and the humidity is low. It was a perfect ride. Except that everytime I got to a song I liked on the ipod, i would put it in the basket, and the ipod would change it to a song it liked. how frustrating!

As I approached the 30 minute mark of my ride, this song came on the ipod. I know I start to cry. I learned this when the trailer for Winnie the Pooh came on the night we learned about Rango. Winnie the Pooh is my husband's favorite disney/kid themed movie. He has told me all about playing pooh sticks in the park. He has enlightened me on so many other Winnie the Pooh facts as well. I, on the other hand, have never seen or read Winnie the Pooh. I was a Cinderella girl. I couldn't be bothered with a boy playing in the woods with a bear who likes honey and a tiger (yes, i know tigger), and a not so optimistic eeyore. I see that I do relate to eeyore very well right now, and my husband, while i like to say is owl, can also be a tigger at times!
But I don't think I realized how important Winnie the Pooh is to my husband until we took his parents out to dinner a couple of weeks ago. For the first time, his dad (my father in law) told me stories of Mario when he was little. We've been together for 4 years, and I've never seen his dad get sentimental--i guess that's one way he's changed through losing his 2 grandsons. And i was told how he and my husband would walk to the park and play pooh sticks, and told me in detail what that was. My husband was stunned into silence, because he was taking it all in--his father was joyfully telling stories of times they spent together. But at the same time, my heart ached. I know he's tried to play pooh sticks with the girls, but they just aren't patient enough. I know he wants a baby to buy all the pooh stuff for.
i know i was planning for father's day to get him a little winnie the pooh doll...but after Rango I knew it wasn't a good idea. So, i thought this was why the song made me cry--all the broken hopes and dreams that winnie the pooh represented (and the song described).
so, being sad, and pedaling through the tears, i decided to stop at the cemetary on the way home. i wanted to see how robbie's tree was doing. i broke down, and cried. i kneeled down, and just prayed to God to let me have my babies back. I miss them so much. When I calmed down, I asked Him to please hold them on their laps, to read them stories, and give them a big hug and kiss for me, and tell them how much I love them. I thanked Him for my girls, and how I want to be there for them right now, but i know A really misses her brothers too, and E wants us to have another baby.
I asked for a sign, something, anything, that my boys were okay, and they were watching us. My husband and girls get pennies--which is awesome, and i know they love it. My mind was just racing, and I was crying, and a great wind came up. And for the first time, I quieted my mind-just to listen to the wind, the birds and the other noises. I kneeled there, and the tears stopped. I wiped my eyes, and went to stand up. As I stood up, I saw underneath me were two dandelions--just two. One was smaller than the other. I wondered how I had kneeled there, looking down and had not noticed them. At first I didn't think anything of it. Then i turned to the left, and there were four dandelions--all different sizes. I turned to the right, and there were five dandelions--4 that ranged in size from small to large, and one really tall one that was just about to bloom. I circled around, and didn't see any other dandelions in that area---or ones in other areas that were less than 5. I went and got my phone, and took pictures of the 3 clusters. I took the two dandelions (that were directly under me), and they are in the boys memory box.
When I asked for a sign, I was doubtful. I was looking for pennies, or something shiny. I tried to tell myself if they do send something, its a miracle, because how would I not have seen it while standing there. But of course-flowers. my husband and girls know how i love my butterfly garden, and spending time there. i've been trying to protect the thistle because butterflies do need it. just because its a weed doesn't mean its not important. and maybe i'm just being sentimental, and really grasping at stuff to make it fit. But i don't think so in this case...i think that was God and my boys way of telling me they were with me, at that spot.
"Oh simple thing, where have you gone"...you are right there in front of me... i just need to be still and rest...

EDIT: After looking up dandelions, I learned that :
"Dandelions spread further, are more difficult to exterminate, and grow under more under adverse circumstances than most competitors."

"Most gardeners detest them, but the more you try to weed them up, the faster they grow."

"It ís recommended for stressed-out, internally sluggish, and sedentary people"

It also has properties for people that are run-down.... (found at http://www.wildmanstevebrill.com/Plants.Folder/Dandelion.html). interesting...never knew a weed could do so much!
check out this information too: http://www.wildmanstevebrill.com/Plants.Folder/Dandelion.html