Conquering Bridges

When Loudoun was about 4 years old, we used to go to this park in Santa Monica. The play structure had a set of steps, which led to a large bridge, which opened up to all the rings, platforms, puzzle boards, tunnels and slides. You know, the FUN part of the playground. But the bridge, was terrifying to Loudoun. I admit, to someone who didn't understand, this bridge looked frightening. The floor of the bridge was made out of chain link wrapped in plastic coating, in a tic-tac-toe pattern. Of course as an adult, I could see that any kid with shoes on and a foot bigger than a size 3 would not slip through the holes. But to a scared, timid 4 year old, this bridge posed a huge threat. Even the railings were placed high for a youngster to grab onto, and don't even get me started on all of the 6, 7 and 8 year olds who would go flying by my shaking, almost tearful toddler. Every visit to that structure, Loudoun would scramble up the first set of stairs and then freeze at the beginning of the bridge, hoping for an ounce of bravery to come over him, just so he could go down the slide on the other side.

As his mom, I encouraged from his side and from the ground. I tried placing my hands under his feet to show him he was safe. But this was something he would have to acheive on his own. So, weeks and months went by. The original excitement of arriving at the park always turning into disappointment from having to turn around and go back down the steps.

And then one day, like I knew it would, he found the bravery. And he cheered himself on as he strutted across the terrifying bridge. He did it 8 times in a row, each time shouting, "Mom, look at me! I'm doing it!" I couldn't have been more proud. He was young, I know. But I so badly wanted that accomplishment for him, and he earned it all on his own.

My point?

Now look at my kid.

He climbs all over the outside of the structures. He hangs upside down. He goes down things no-handed and chases his friends up and down and all around. I watch, biting my nails, holding my breath, praying for no broken bones, and yet so proud of my little boy who is growing up way too fast.

Front Yard Tent Excursion



This weekend my kids asked to set up the tent in the front yard. We have one of those cool, sliced in half, 1/2 open tents, you know, the ones that are pointless at the beach because the wind blows them right over. You know, the reason why we bought it in the first place. But now our yard serves as the perfect place to set it up, and the kids rushed around gathering everything they would need for their front yard tent excursion.



To enter the tent, apparently you have to have goofy faces. Check and check.

They crack me up.

A Gospel Opportunity

Not sure if anyone will remember this, but back in 1984, Laura Bradbury went missing. This girl, Laura Bradbury, was 3-1/2 when her family took her camping in 1984.  She had an 8 year old brother and a baby sister.  The brother had to go to the bathroom after dark, so the father let him go to the porta-potty by himself, and when Laura wanted to tag along, the father asked the brother to watch out for his sister.  When the boy came out of the porta-potty, the little girl, Laura, was gone.

This story is so, so sad, not only because a little girl lost her life at such a young age, but because the 8 year old boy grew up riddled with guilt and turned into an alcoholic and the infant daughter grew up in a house stricken with grief, where nobody talked about Laura. The parents never recovered from the grief, and the father is barely just now getting closure, 26 years later.

BUT.

This story has sat in the pit of my mother's stomach all of these years. She and my dad took my sister and me camping. THAT.VERY.SAME.WEEKEND. I was 8, my sister, Laura, was 5. We wanted to sleep in our own tent and be all grown-up, and while my parents weren't sure that was the greatest idea, let us do it anyway. We ended up crawling into the van with my parents at probably 11pm, since it was COLD! We had a wonderful camping trip, but came home Sunday evening for my parents to see the Laura Bradbury case on the news. Weeks and months went by searching for this little girl, and she was never found.

They just recently found a skull in the camping area which they believe is Laura's. I read the article on Monday when it came out, but on Wednesday my mom wrote an email to my sister and me, with a heavy weight on her shoulders.

I can't help but be struck by the parallels.  Laura my daughter, Laura Bradbury, both camping on the same weekend, with an older sibling, both little girls even looked the same.  Why did one family get hit with such a tragedy and another one (us) didn't?  How does fate get handed out?  We are all just so lucky and don't even know half the time all the reasons WHY we are so lucky.  Life gives us happiness that can't even be measured until we hear about someone else's unhappiness and sorrow.

I called her immediately, and started the phone call with, I am going to cry during this phone call, just warning you! As my mom's friend now, and as a mom myself, her email touched on so many of my emotions. The feelings she must have been going through back in the 80's, hearing about everything. And the thought of this happening to my own family? What if Loudoun was in charge of Avalon and she disappeared? Loudoun is so sensitive, I fear he would never get over it. And Rick...how would he and I ever get through a tragedy like that? Naturally, the thought of losing either of my children puts a lump in my throat.

After the phone call, she emailed me again, apologizing for making me cry. Of course that was the last thing on my mind...sometimes a hearty, emotional cry is a good thing. She also explained that since talking about God on our recent vacation in July, she has been questioning who is in charge, why things happen the way they do, and what happens when we die. The Laura Bradbury article resurfaced all of those questions in her mind.

So,

I shared the Gospel with her. I called on God to help me with the Words, and I followed His lead and shared what I know.

What better time, right?

What if one result of the Laura Bradbury tragedy is someone comes to believe in Christ? I pray everyday.

What do you mean I can't wear my necklace to bed?

Tonight the extra dog walk and swimming proved to be too much for her.
(Not the puppy).
A meltdown was coming, we could all feel it.
Not allowing her to wear her new Hello Kitty necklace to bed
was what broke her down into inconsolable tears.
Muffled screams could still be heard
and little feet kicked at the end of the bed repeatedly.

Tonight it took 6 "Do you need a hug?" questions
before she looked up from her tear-soaked pillow,
bottom lip quivering and said "yes, mama."
Offering to let her Dora doll wear the necklace for bedtime seemed to be the best alternative.
And 5 extra minutes of cuddle time sent her off to dreamland.
And melted her mama's heart.

Sometimes redirecting a toddler's meltdown can be so hard, sometimes so easy. But it sure makes you appreciate the times you can do it well. And gives hope and confidence the next time one rolls around.
(Tomorrow).
I mean, she is 3.
I can't wait to be the one to get her through it again.

Highs and Lows

High as a kite, without any substances!
My 1st sobriety birthday on Wednesday was more than I could have possibly imagined. The high I felt from friends remembering, cheering me on, sending me texts, bringing me cupcakes, mailing me cards and giving me my cake at my meeting, kept me on cloud nine ALLLLL day long. The jitters I felt in anticipation of giving my speech had a little to do with it all afternoon, but the love and support I felt from family, friends and my sponsor was A-MA-ZING.Shoot, it is enough to keep me from drinking the whole next year 'til my 2nd birthday! I kid. But seriously, "thank you so much"...you know who you are.

Waaaay Down LOW. For a portion of the morning.
Funny how a 3 year old can do that to you! Picture this. Opening Day for Loudoun's first year of soccer. We walk across the football field to deliver Loudoun to his team for the parade. Rick goes to the booth to turn in our raffle tickets, and it is my job to walk my 3 year old insane feisty "just-woke-up-and-still-a-bit-grumpy" daughter back across the field to the bleachers. The announcer was calling for all parents to sit down over the loud speaker, so naturally she refused to go. What should have been a simple walk turned into a tantrum of gigantic proportions, so I took her behind the bleachers where she threw a fit for 20 minutes. Rick even came over to help out because she was beyond reasoning with. Yeah, I missed most of the parade. Although, everyone heard her! She calmed down right as Loudoun was passing in front of our spot in the bleachers, and by then we were able to smile and move on with our day. But imagine how fun it is to drag a screaming, kicking toddler across a football field in front of bleachers filled with soccer parents? Yes, FUN.

It ended up being such a small moment of our day, but getting through it was DRAINING.

Cheering Soccer Mom: HIGH!

After a little breakfast (does food ever not make it better?) and regrouping at home, we went to Loudoun's first soccer game and had the BEST.TIME.EVER. Rick, Avalon and I sat in our chairs, under our umbrella, and cheered our hearts out. It was warm and sunny, Loudoun was excited, the team was pumped, and all of the remnants of the morning's moment had disappeared.

Added bonus HIGH

Since I'm not really supposed to say "I told you so" to my kids, I'm gonna say it now since she's sleeping.

"Avalon, I TOLD YOU, YOU ARE TIRED."

ONE

Tonight I take my 1 year cake. I decided to share my speech on this site, since it just about sums everything up. To anyone who thinks they might have a problem with alcohol, there is help out there and you can get better. Don't despair, there is a GREAT life out there for you, without alcohol. AA may or may not be for you, but please reach out to someone.

*****

Coming into AA one year ago was essential for me to realize that alcoholism is my disease. Yes, I had tried to quit before, unsuccessfully, but I always thought it was my will power that failed. On the first night coming into this room, someone shared about the allergy concept, discussed in the BIG BOOK. And it clicked in my head. It made me feel like something legit was going on inside of me, and finally there was a chance for me to get help. REAL Help.

That night I went home and grabbed the big book I had on my book shelf, the one given to my husband by his mom when he was young partying college kid. I always thought she was kind of a prude or goody goody, not having had a drink in 18 years. Now I realize I am so much like her, and so many other women out there.

My drinking increased from “party status” to REAL drinking after I had kids. I would get through my day at work, and look forward to drinking once I got home. At first I made myself wait until after they were in bed, but it soon became with dinner, then 5pm the minute I got home, and on weekends it was acceptable to drink at lunchtime. Shoot, I could be convinced of mimosas for breakfast. I justified that it would make me more patient and fun for my kids (then 5 and 2). But really I drank the first 2 drinks so fast to get the buzz that by drink #3 I was no longer as patient as I had hoped. And I tired way too quickly.

From the outside it looked like I had it together, but the guilt inside is what was tearing me apart. The next morning is always when the guilt set in that I wasn’t a good mother. I didn’t listen to them as much as I should have, I didn’t remember every little detail about the night before. Maybe I snapped at them. I didn’t play with them like I should have, because I was more consumed with getting my next drink and relaxing. I wasn’t PRESENT, and today I was going to do better and not drink....Or as much....Or, nevermind, it’s 4pm and I can have 1 drink tonight. But we all know, 1 drink doesn’t work.

My rock bottom was when the guilt became so overwhelming. I got my butt into a meeting, since my mother in law went to them all of the time and swore by them. And that’s where I learned I had a problem not to be ashamed about, a problem you all could help me with. You reached out and talked to me and made me feel welcome. You cheered when I took chips, you hugged me when I came in the door. And you were funny so I wanted to come back. The best was that there were so many people in here I could relate to…the first time I shared I found out *L has kids the exact same age as I do. Moms, guilt, you all got it.

At first I was upset that I couldn’t drink like a normal person, like EVER again. But as the months passed by and the daily experiences with my family happened, I realized I wouldn’t trade this for anything, because I found God and my relationship with my family is REAL and guilt free. AA got me to where I needed to be.