The Almost Maybe Never Surefire Way to Get What You Want

Whenever Peanut and Bird don’t get their way, they stomp around and yell they hate us aka me, and then slam their bedroom doors. Then, after a few minutes they open the door to shout how unfair I am, remind me they still hate me from two seconds ago, and slam their door again.

Am I supposed to say, “Oh you know what? I have decided that yes you can have whatever ridiculous thing you were asking for, I am so sorry for upsetting you!” Why do they think acting hateful will bring rewards??? And the bigger the request the stronger the freakout. Every single time, and yet it never works out the way they seem to expect it to.

I guess I should give them credit for being persistent.

Miss You Monday – 11/24/14

Dear Mom,

Today was bad. I have the sadness that started last week with my birthday and now will only get stronger as the holidays come and go so quickly. I am frustrated because I am stressed and can’t express it because I’ll hear all the “wrong” answers that will only make me mad and not motivate me. I am angry about everything and nothing. I can’t write and again I struggled with what to write in my letter. I should know how to cope with this by now, or even better, not feel like this at all anymore. And that’s the problem, that it never seems to end, it just ebbs.

I found this quote on brainyquote and it really sums up how I feel. “I wasn’t prepared for the fact that grief is so unpredictable. It wasn’t just sadness, and it wasn’t linear. Somehow I’d thought that the first days would be the worst and then it would get steadily better – like getting over the flu. That’s now how it was.” ~ Meghan O’Rourke

I hope I can get out of this funk soon.

I miss you Mom.

Miss You Monday – 11/17/14

Dear Mom,

This week has been especially tough. Maybe because it was another year gone without you and now I’m closer to being the age you were when you left me. Maybe because it’s been cold, rainy and dreary too soon. Maybe because even though I have love surrounding me I’m still alone, dealing with this on my own.

I was struggling with what to write in this letter and that was frustrating because the others just came and spilled out easily. Why do I feel guilty not having a topic? Isn’t it enough that I just miss everything, that I wish I could go back to a few days before so I could tell you to have your heart checked NOW and prevent this awful loneliness I now live with? I just want one moment of happiness that isn’t clouded by wishing you were here to share it with me.

I miss you, Mom.

Miss You Monday – 11/10/14

Dear Mom,

I’ve been sad this week. My birthday is coming up. For 15 years my birthdays have not started right. They’ve been as ok as they can be without you, but they’ll never start right again.

It seemed like every year you would get up earlier than the previous year to call me and be the first person to sing happy birthday to me, so I would start my special day happy. It was so silly, but it was your special thing you had to do for me and I only pretended I was upset at the early call.  I hope you knew I wasn’t really upset.

And then in the fall of 1998, my last call came but I didn’t know it was my last call. I wish I had known. I would have had you sing it a couple of times so I could have recorded it, because now I can’t remember what it sounded like when you sang it.

In the fall of 1999, my birthday came and the phone was silent. I didn’t want to leave the house because I still wasn’t used to you being gone and I didn’t want to miss your call. Even though it was my birthday I was not as happy about it as I used to be because it didn’t start right.

Now when I wake up on my birthday, I have to remind myself not to wait for the phone to ring.

I miss you Mom.

Miss You Monday – 11/3/14

Dear Mom,

It’s hard to believe after 15 years I still think about calling you to tell you the good, the bad, the boring, anything to just talk to you. At least I don’t pick up the phone anymore, I just think about calling you.

The last few weeks I’ve had plenty I’ve needed to talk about, not much of it good. Mr. G is the only one I have to talk to, but sometimes he gets tired of hearing about it, or he tells me I need to speak up and stop letting everyone take advantage of me, or he says Peanut acts the same way with him and I need to let it roll of my back like he does.

But Mom, I don’t care if he’s tired of hearing about it, if he thinks I’m weak, or if he has the same problem, which he doesn’t. I don’t need him to fix my problem, I just need him to listen to me, no matter how long it takes or how often I’ve said it. I need him to be like you, willing to talk to me about anything I want to talk about, anytime.

I talked to you a lot once I was old enough to appreciate you, and sometimes I didn’t really want to but felt I had to since you were my mother. And it’s one of the things that I really miss now that I don’t have it. Sure I could talk to my mother-in-law, but it’s not the same. She might just be listening to be polite, who knows?

I talk to you now, but I can’t hear your response, and that’s what I need. I need to know that it will be ok, that my feelings are valid, that what I said was funny, that the person I’m mad at was wrong or I’m being dramatic and I’m wrong. It doesn’t really matter what you would have said. It just matters that I could tell you and know you were listening.

I miss you Mom.

Miss You Monday

Dear Mom,

I have always been fascinated by the spiritual realm, but I never really paid a lot of attention to it until the day you became a part it. My worst day happened 15 years ago yet I still reluctantly remember every moment of it, and now I think that day and the 5,475 days since are playing an important part in my future as I am compelled to write about them. Those days have certainly shaped who I have become, forcing me to become a grownup. I have always felt that I didn’t just show up that day as a coincidence, but that you knew you were leaving and called me to you, holding on until I arrived. Thank you for giving me that gift, it brought me an immense comfort then and still soothes me now.

You were always a very strong woman, and I appreciate that now, though it caused us to butt heads too much. But now remembering the coincidences of my worst day and realizing that I have been making decisions that seemed random but have led me further down the path to writing, I believe that you have become even stronger while in Heaven and are guiding me to what is right for me. Some may say I am imagining the “signs” from you, and maybe I am, but if it gives me comfort to think that you are helping me reach my goals, that’s all that matters to me. I don’t care what they think, especially if they don’t know how horrible this loss is, and I need to hold on to anything I can to get through the hard times.

Mom and me with her other babies

Mom and me with her other babies

I started freelance writing a year ago, and started working on a book about being motherless. I began a cycle where I would write every day and submit for writing jobs and after many rejections I would become discouraged and not write anymore. Then I would be unhappy because I wasn’t writing so I would start again. The book wasn’t coming smoothly; writers are advised to write about what they know. It was what I knew and I thought there would be an audience willing to read it, but it just wasn’t feeling right. So I stopped working on it and focused on my blog about Peanut and my blogs for two business clients, but it wasn’t enough.

Then I found an ad asking for stories about paranormal experiences, and I wanted to tell the story of my worst day, but I worried that would upset you. Why it mattered, I don’t know, but it was important to me that I have your blessing and make you proud. So I told you I wanted to write about it, and if that was ok with you, please send me a sign, send me an email to my phone. A few minutes later I heard the notification ping that I had a new follower on my blog. I immediately wrote the story and submitted it, and then was selected to be published in a collection from authors across the country, one from every state!

Last month I decided to attend a women’s networking group, and after doing some research and reading about several other groups I chose one that meets near my house. I met someone with a home business who is also a successful writer with a local publisher! Why did I choose that group and decide to go to that meeting? It had been a suggestion on my performance review for over a year, yet I never did anything with it until now.

I found an article about the 10 best work at home jobs, and writer was on the list. No surprise there. The article had a link to a great resource for freelance writers with jobs, articles, and a discussion forum. Deep in the discussion forum there was a group for people who have had spiritual contact with their loved ones! I immediately wondered why there was a forum like that on a writing board, but then realized that I didn’t just find that link, you sent me there. After reading that I decided to go a different route on my book and now the words are flowing and I realize that the hour I have scheduled as my writing time every night flies by and I have to force myself to find a stopping point. It seems to be a lot of coincidences around me again, and I wonder, am I about to have another life altering event, though this time a positive one?

Mom, I get it, you want me to write. Believe me I am inspired now, and won’t let the rejections get to me. I feel I need to tell my story and that sharing my pain can help someone else feel less overwhelmed, lost and alone.Thank you for guiding me, I won’t let you down. This path will lead to good things, but it will only slightly soften the rough edges of the hole in my heart. But it shows me you are still there for me, and I need that, especially now when I feel like I can’t do anything right with my job or my children. Those are letters for another day, letters I wish I didn’t have to write because I could just tell you. I wish for a lot of things since you’ve been gone.

I miss you Mom.

Starting Tomorrow…Miss You Monday

Last week I attended a womens networking group, and I met a writer who has a local publisher. She suggested I start marketing my book before it’s completed, and said maybe I could regularly blog about what’s been happening in my life as letters to my mother.

So starting tomorrow, Mondays will be “Miss You Monday.” Although 15 years have passed, I haven’t truly healed from the loss of my mother, but have simply learned how to cope. I will focus on how difficult it is to navigate the new stages of Peanut’s life when I have no one who’s been through it with me to tell me we will eventually be ok.

Her loss still affects me, and sometimes I still don’t know what to do without her. I am sharing my story not for my benefit but for yours, so you know you are not alone.

If you have any suggestions for future letters or for ways to cope, please let me know.

If You Haven’t Bought the Stock It’s Too Late Now

So if you have children you know that sometimes they will announce they no longer like a certain food. Sometimes this now offending food will be something that they would have wanted with them on a deserted island because that is all they were willing to eat for every meal, and you just figure it’s about time they’re sick of it. Then sometimes they announce they hate a certain food and have never liked it even if they did really. Sometimes they didn’t even try it, they just put the very tippy tip of their tongue against it and hate it for the slight taste/texture they received. But then somehow they are forced to take an actual bite, chew and swallow and KAPOW it’s their new favorite food.

Peanut and Bird didn’t like soft taco shells after putting the tippy tip of their tongues against it. She said the texture was weird and he said it just wasn’t what he was hungry for ever in his life. So one day Mr. G said, “You know what, let’s get a taco kit that has hard AND soft shells in it for something different.” Ok whatever, easy meal. It is our rule that they have to actually take a bite to try it, and if they don’t like it, that’s fine but they can only have a bowl of cereal or leftovers we won’t make them their own meal. So on soft taco day Peanut didn’t feel like following this rule and wasn’t getting much response when she complained about the lack of edible food in the house, and Bird decided to just peel the soft taco to eat it.


The tortilla became their new desert island food. So now, almost every day they eat dinner, and lunch on weekends, in a soft tortilla, making everything a burrito. Now Peanut has gone a step further and adds instant rice to all her burritos, even if it’s breakfast for dinner night. I don’t fight her on it, at least she’s eating, but I think that sounds disgusting and Bird agrees with me. Which is surprising because I could probably wrap worms in them and Bird would think that sounded delicious since he is a boy and 8, and when he’s not eating burritos he is talking about all the disgusting things he can imagine being a boy and 8.

So now I am buying a lot of soft tortillas, which is why we all really should have seen this coming and bought the stock. Give me a month and then send me recipes to use up all the tortillas they no longer want to eat because they hate them and never liked them in their whole lives.