It's Not You.........It's Me

It's not you.

Truly.

I know people say that and it's not sincere or real.

But it really is ME.

When I was first introduced to you..........well, it was with trepidation that I began our relationship.

You seemed a little too cool for me.

I know that sounds weird.

Because I am sure you wouldn't say you were "cool"........but I have always been a girl that would have no idea how to define that word, let alone BE that word.

So........well, you seemed "cool".

But gradually I became used to you, what seemed cool became the norm.

You seemed to be able to go anywhere, appropriate in all situations........fitting in wasn't hard.

So I began to take you to church, out with friends, to dinner, to family gatherings.

And, to be honest, you made me feel pretty.

You made me feel confident.

I loved how I felt when we were together.

I was comfortable.

Suddenly what once was a casual, once in a while relationship grew into something more.

And then..............suddenly............

It turned serious, almost daily.

But today I began to recognize something.

It's not good for me to be with you every day.

That first feeling of comfort and beauty and confidence have given way to something different.

Hmmmm..............how to explain?

The level of comfort you bring had led me to becoming TOO comfortable, to the detriment of the others in  my life.

Somehow the others........the ones that I used to have daily, the ones I relied on for dinners and outings and church and more.........well, they were tossed aside for YOU.

My comfort had become unhealthy.

And so I have to say goodbye..........not a forever goodbye, just a for now goodbye......maybe even just a for a day, a week goodbye.

It's not you.

It's me.

For if I don't say goodbye, if I don't begin to remember the ones that came before YOU......well, I won't fit into any of my clothes ever again.

Goodbye, my leggings.

I love that you have gone with me everywhere, expanding my winter wardrobe to include dresses and tunics and easy, breezy winter wear in a way I had never experienced before.

I love that you are the answer to never having to wear hose again.

I love that you are warmth in the cold Ohio winters.

I love that you have a waistband that never digs in, never accuses........but is filled with grace and forgiveness.

I love that you have given me options.

I love you, my leggings,

But I have to wear my jeans again..............to remember.

Remember the pain of a waistband that does NOT forgive.

Remember that there is a time and place for one size fits all..........but that sometimes size does matter and I have one size in my closet and have no desire or cold hard cash to change that size.

Remember that summer is coming.........it always does.......and with summer comes less clothing and while I am at a certain point in life that it's a lot MORE clothing than it use to be.......well, there are still swimming pools and 90 degree weather and my leggings won't be appropriate anymore.......

So...............goodbye to our daily, constant relationship.

And hello to the reality of a life beyond leggings.

I will miss you.

But please remember.........

It's not you.

It's me.

Deja Vu

7:36am - Eyes open..........awake refreshed, having just spent 20-25 minutes drifting in and out of consciousness........thinking, dreaming, praying........hear the sounds of children in the living room (daddy, after having read mommy's blog, threatened that if anyone ever wakes mommy for silly reasons there will be NO KINDLE TIME)

7:37am - Head out to the living room........Francesca asks, "Mommy I didn't lose my Kindle time, did I?"  It's seems to be a moot point at this time seeing as how she is playing on the Kindle at that very moment.......but no, no lost Kindle time.  See how happy and relaxed mommy can be after 6 hours of sleep?

7:38am - I stroll out to the kitchen to determine what is for breakfast, decide the cereal left over from Christmas (my dad gets the kids each a big cardboard box full of cereal for Christmas because it's not something we usually buy..........don't ask, it's just us........not you :) and the bread from nonna's are good enough for today.

7:39 - 7:42am - I eat a bowl of Rice Krispies while I watch Nico and Francesca getting along, happy, using their Kindle Time together............ahhh, think life is good.

7:43 - 7:46am - Fia stumbles out for a cuddle, she sits on my lap.......I give her kisses and think happy thoughts about how lucky I am.

7:46am - Francesca asks to play a game and I say OF COURSE, let's play a game - I have food in my belly, I have slept, there is no pressure to move quickly, all is well.

7:50am - I hear a child's voice...........ummmm, doesn't someone have grandparents breakfast today?

What?  What's that you say?

Grandparents breakfast?

AHHHHHHHHHHH!!  I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING AGAIN!!!!

(I emerge from my blessed, relaxed, happy mommy fog)

GO! GO! GO!  NICO!

GET OFF THE KINDLE!!!!

WHERE'S YOUR LUNCH?

GET DRESSED!!!!

I WILL GET YOUR SOCKS!!!!

WHERE'S MY PHONE!?!?!  I HAVE TO CALL ZIA MARIA!!!!

MAYBE SHE CAN PICK YOU UP!

OH MY WORD - HOW DID I FORGET AGAIN?!?

HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?

BRUSH  YOUR TEETH!

BRUSH YOUR HAIR!!

(Fia, in the background - "Ok. everyone just has to remember their own breakfast, ok?  Just remember when your day is and get ready." She has resigned herself already to a mother that cannot remember anything)

GO! GO! GO!

OK.  OK.  ZIA MARIA IS HERE!!  OUT THE DOOR!!

HAVE FUN!

I LOVE YOU!!!

I LOVE YOU!!!

So...............it happened...........AGAIN.  I would like to say I am surprised.

But..........well, I am not.

Just last week it took us five days to remember to put money in Nico's baggie with his tooth.

Tooth fairy fail #1,074.

Our kids don't even bother leaving it under their pillow anymore.  They tape their tooth in a baggie on their light switch.

Nico swears the tooth fairy isn't real.......he just wants his money and rolls his eyes each morning as he reminds me that the money STILL ISN'T THERE.

I just tell him to try again tonight.

It isn't bad parenting.

It's called teaching my child delayed gratification.

Oh and responsibility............

Remember your own dang breakfast, kids.

Side note:  I learned from the master.  My mom?  I remember a time in high school........I had a HUGE crush on this boy from school........HUGE.  He drove a beat-up, rusted blue pick up truck and was kind of a jerk but could be sweet, at times.  Plus he was an under dog.  

I was a stupid girl. 

ANYWAY................HUGE crush.  BUT.........not an unlikely scenario, you know?

I come home.   My  mom says.........GUESS WHO CALLED?

My heart stopped beating.  OH MY WORD.  HE CALLED!!!!

I wait.  I try to act casual.  Ummm........who?

NO ONE she says.  She laughs.

The cruelty almost takes your breathe away, doesn't it?

I love that story.  It's probably the one time in life my mom messed with me like that and it makes me cackle every time I tell it -1) because it's funny and 2) because it horrifies my mom :)

Can't make this stuff up

7:36am - Whole body flails in bed, my eyes pop open to a child standing next to my bed.

It was a rude awakening to the day for a rude reason.........her Kindle time IS NOT up because she just started and HAS NOT used 30 minutes yet.

Apparently I had forgotten the world does not revolve around my need for sleep (I had just gotten to sleep 2 and a half hours prior........) and I need to pay attention to KINDLE TIME.

I asked for 5 more minutes.

7:37am - Pray for time to stop.

7:38am - Hopeful that it is still 7:37am.

7:39am - No such luck.

7:40am - Time keeps moving............shut my eyes to the inevitable.

7:42am - Belatedly stumble out to the living room and am greeted by my love on the Kindle, happily zoned out on some Smurf game.  I mumble something about making breakfast.

7:44am - Francesca stumbles out.......goes in for a cuddle and a hug while I am attempting to put together enough thoughts as to what we will be having for breakfast.......but AHHHH.......gets sidetracked by the screen in the living room and goes to sit next to Fia.

7:45am - The little man stumbles out, eyes shut, seeking the softest surface to land on and mumbles I get Kindle next............

(( Thank goodness for Amazon Free Time which manages the kid's time on their shared Kindle every day........30 minutes and it shuts them out..........no arguments, no whining, no nothing...........it is quite possibly the best gift we have ever given them for Christmas..........................))

7:50am - I heat things up for pancakes and eggs - coconut oil in the pan, a little butter on the griddle, get out the ingredients and over hear this........"who's breakfast is it today?  who gets grandparents day today?.........."

WHAT!?!?  WHAT!?!?!?  WHAT DID YOU SAY!?!?!?!

Kids from the living room..........grandparents day.  Remember?  Breakfast with grandma and grandpa?

WHAT!?!?!?  THE ONE AT 8 O'CLOCK?!?!?!?!?!

GO! GO! GO! GO!

7:50 - 8:00am - It's a blur of activity.

GO!!! FRANCESCA!!! GO!!! GET DRESSED!!

FIA!! WHY ON YOU STILL ON THE KINDLE!! GET OFF AND HELP YOUR SISTER!!

OH MY GOSH WE HAVE TO BE AT THE SCHOOL IN 10 MINUTES - NO ONE IS DRESSED!!! WE NEED FRANCESCA'S BOOKBAG AND LUNCH AND WE NEED TO GET HER READY!!!!

NICO!!! NO YOU DON'T GET TO BE ON THE KINDLE!!!

BRUSH YOUR HAIR!!!

FIA!! HELP HER BRUSH HER HAIR!!

GET ON SOCKS AND BOOTS!!

NO YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE DRESSED JUST GO!!!

YES! NICO YOU HAVE TO HAVE THE RIGHT COAT - DON'T WEAR YOUR SISTER'S COAT!

OH MY GOSH!  I NEED PANTS!! JUST WAIT I HAVE TO GET PANTS!!

OK!! GO! GO! GO!

GET IN THE CAR!!!

OH NO! THE DOOR IS FROZEN SHUT - IN THROUGH THE FRONT!  OH MY WORD IT IS COLD!!!

8:00am - (((SIGH))) Ok.  We made it.

Ummm.............

It is really slippery.

But we made it.

8:03am - (We pull up to the school.)  Um.........hmmm..........(Mr. Bob is putting ice on the sidewalk and a plow is just pulling up to the COVERED parking lot.  The covered EMPTY parking lot.)

Well...................it looks like there is no school.

Huh.

8:05am - Back home to pancakes, eggs and orange slices.

Just another day in the Codispoti house.

Back

Some days I want to go back.

I want to go back to the not knowing.

I want to go back to the days of innocence, the days of guarantees.

I want to submerge myself in the here and now and not think of the tomorrows.

I want to unknow what I know, I want to unsee what I have seen, I want to erase images that are seared on my mind.

Information is a dangerous thing.

Stories and lives are powerful things to peek in on, to witness from afar.

We live in a world of information.

But some days I want to go back.

I want to go back to the not knowing.

My boy came in last night, not able to sleep.

We were always strict NOT IN MY BED parents, here in this house.............back in the days of innocence and guarantees.

Last night I said...............crawl in and we slept side by side, an arm dangling over a waist, a leg intertwined, a head curved into a shoulder...........it was a guarantee for the night.

How I want to hold him forever.

For there was a boy.  Not one I even know.  Rather one I read about in a blog and then followed on Facebook and through Google found information on.

It's been a few days now.  Days which I have followed his story, peeked in on his mom.  One mom checking in on another, anxious at the outcome.........hoping........maybe?  Wishing for something to happen that never will.......but wishing all the same.

This age of information is a tricky one.

It lead me to this story, this mom and her son but not to the ending I wanted.

He died last night.

Thirteen years old.

A soccer player.

Big smile, big cheeks.

Loved by his brother and family.

A brain tumor snatched him from this life.

Today is a day I want to go back.

Back to the not knowing, the innocence, the guarantees.

I want to go back.

Don't Miss It

So I have mentioned before...........THE JOB.

I love it.

The mom job, of course.  But also the churchy job.

I still default and tell people that I am a mom a lot of the time when they ask me what I do.

I don't know why.

I think I value more what I do with my kids than what I do with the outside world.

I think that I feel more "me" as a mom than I do as anything else.

I don't know.

But I do get to meet some amazing people as the result of my job.

People who bless me with their words, with their work, with their life.

Today I got to meet one of those people.

20 years he has worked in this world, it's a family thing.  Passed on from father to son.

He has a passion for serving people.

He has a knowledge of this area and talks of the city with care.

He realizes the need to educate people.  He said that his goal is NOT to keep on meeting with the same people over and over again, enabling them but his goal is to educate and help them and have them not rely so heavily on him, rather they will have learned to help themselves.

He told me he is on call - 24 hours a day.  That we could call him at midnight.  He might be groggy and not as coherent but that he would answer and be ready to help.

He's not taking Christmas off.

He said people are just as vulnerable in the city on Christmas day as any other day - he has a responsibility to them.

He spoke with such an earnestness and passion.

He took more time than he needed to explain things, to teach me.  He went through detail upon detail.

At one point I knew that he had something hard to say and he took such care to be kind.

I was just in awe of this guy.

It was an unexpected gift to my day.

Oh........

And who was the guy, you ask?

Randy, the Roto-Rooter guy.

I was standing there in my ancient Ugg boots, an old bulky blue bathrobe and my dirty winter coat being taken to church by my plumber.

My job?

It's flexible.

I got to stay home for a service call.

Good thing I didn't go to church that day.

I would have missed the message.

Car Talk

Remember those days?

Those days when your kids babbled or cooed or were just learning to speak?

It was cute, right?

And oh..........that first word, the first mama, the first "I love you".......it melts your heart.

But you know what else is great?

Car talk.

I love car talk.

Well, most of the time.

Sometimes the VERBOSITY of my children can get to me........I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THEY GET IT FROM.

But much of the time I love car talk.

It's unguarded talk - they can't look right at me and I can't look right at them.  It's time when we are all in one place with nothing to do - no toys, no screens, no distractions, no work, no other people.  Just me and them.

And so the other night we are in the car and the talk begins.

Fia:  B******** asked me out today

(WHAT THE HECK?!?!  ASKED YOU OUT? ARE YOU SERIOUS?  YOU'RE IN THIRD GRADE?!?  AND THIS IS THE KID THAT HAS BEEN AFTER YOU FOR TWO YEARS NOW!  WE ASKED YOUR TEACHER LAST YEAR TO CHANGE YOUR SEAT BECAUSE HE WOULDN'T LEAVE YOU ALONE!  WHAT THE HECK?!?!)

Me (in an utterly calm voice):  Oh.  (Pause)  What did you say?

(One of THE BEST pieces of advice I have ever gotten was from Suzi - NON-REACTION.  No matter what your kid says to you, what word, what idea, what thought - NON-REACTION.  It has opened a million doors to some of the best conversations I've ever had with my kids)

Fia:  I told him no.

(YES! YES! YES!)

Me:  Oh.  (Pause) Well, that seems like it was a good decision.  Third grade still seems a bit young to be going out with someone.  How did it make you feel when he asked you, though?

Fia:  It kind of freaked me out.

(Good.  It should.  YOU ARE IN THIRD GRADE.  STAY FREAKED OUT A BIT LONGER!!!!)

Me:  What happened next?  What did he do?

Fia:  He asked out a bunch of other girls.  EVEN THE NEW GIRL, Mom.  She just got here, like, last Friday and he asked her out.  Finally A****** asked if he would stop talking if she said yes and he said he would so A***** said yes and he stopped talking.  He still likes me the BEST, though.  He only likes the other girls a little.

(I am starting to see how even though it FREAKED HER OUT that she might still appreciate being the one who is liked best..............hmmmm................might have to have further talks about this.......girl to girl)

Nico (from the far back):  I would tell him NO.  NEVER.  That it is REALLY INAPPROPRIATE.

Like I said.

Car talk.

It's awesome.

Then we came home, had some dinner and Francesca said she was going to put on a dinner show.

So she did.

Splits and all in the kitchen while we ate.

It was really INAPPROPRIATE :)

Promise Me

Promise that it will be me and you.  Me and you against the world together.  Against the children together.  Against the insecurities and the long nights of sleeplessness.  Against the norm, against the ways things "ought" to be.  Against the bad decisions and the hard decisions.  Me and you.  Together.


Promise me.


Promise that your arms will always hold, always encircle, always protect.  That your words will sooth and love and build up.  That your presence will be the always calm in the sometimes storms.


Promise me.


Promise that the person I have to be, the person I choose to be, the person that is on display for the world is not the person I have to be for you.  Promise that you will always love my naked self more than my made-up self.  That stripped down, laid bare Mandy is the best version, your favorite version and you'll treasure it as only yours.


Promise me.


Promise that when I do the grown up version of a kicking and screaming tantrum - when my silence is heavy and my spirit is angry that you'll see past the facade and look to the heart.  That you will recognize the core of who I am and know.  Know that I'm scared, that I'm tired, that I'm frustrated, that I'm anxious, that I'm hurt.  Know that I need you and always will but sometimes choose to push you away.  Forgive me.


Promise me.


Promise that I can throw water at you and say inappropriate 6 year old boy words and sing off key and talk too much and laugh too loud and flick spit in your face and cunningly, sneakily serve you tuna and you will laugh with me.  That we won't ever grow up and be "proper" adults that there will always be some words that are funny, some things that cause us to dissolve in laughter........even if it's just how funny the OTHER person thinks it is.


Promise me.


Promise that we'll talk.  We'll discuss.  We will always dream.  That we will never grow tired of our children's stories, that they will continue to amaze us and challenge us and make us laugh and we will talk of it.  Promise that while silence can be comfortable it never takes over our lives and that we will be the old couple at the restaurant still talking and laughing and dreaming.


Promise me.


Can you?


Please?


Promise me?


I love you.


I promise you.