Earlier today I wrote about Matthew's first tee ball game and how fun it was. But I also mentioned in that blog how for the last couple of weeks I've been a little on the blue side. It's been a rough few weeks. Just life, I guess - and I feel like writing about it now.
Over spring break I took Matthew down to visit with his dad. We'd planned to meet at our usual meeting spot and they would have him from Wednesday through Easter Sunday. I was excited about having a day or two to myself to do whatever I wanted to, eat in a restaurant that doesn't have a sliding board as a centerpiece or spend an evening with grown up friends without the kids in tow. I wanted to be able to go to bed without worrying about homework or if school clothes were ready for the next day. Just all about me for the next few days! When I dropped him off I was ok. By the time I got back home I felt like I'd forgotten something - like that feeling you get when you can't remember if you locked the front door. I did what I wanted to do - had lunch with a friend, a night out with the girls, got a bunch of errands done with minimal effort, etc. But I was missing something. And the house was so, so quiet without him. And I was lonely. It's been nothing but Matthew and me since he was about 1 so it's a big transition when he's not around. It's almost like living with a piece of your heart missing. He had a great time with his dad and I was glad about it but I was so happy to get him back home!
Then, there was another death in my family - one in a long line of family losses. This time it was my uncle, my mom's brother-in-law and an all around good guy who worked through his chemotherapy and at age 78 was working 2 weeks before he died. My extended family used to be huge and we all did everything together. All the summer beach trips, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, mountain picnics were packed full of aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmas, brothers and sisters, even friends of cousins were like family. So common to be around lots of family, even every single weekend my mom and I went down to Spartanburg to my aunts house just to spend the night with her and my cousins. None of that exists anymore and now the only time we're all in the same room is at funerals. We don't even have Christmas dinner together. At Doug's funeral I sat there looking around at how many of us are not around anymore - and I wondered who was next. Which one of my dwindling little family would we gather for the next time. And then I thought about my dad and my brother and how much I missed them both and the utter sadness I still feel about losing them both. And I thought about my dearest friend Mark and how much I wished I could just call him to let him know about Doug. And I was sad for Matthew - who'll never know what it's like to be a part of a big, loving family.
Matthew had never been to a funeral before and I was proud of him for the way he behaved but I'm not so sure he knew everything that was going on. In fact when it was over he said - loud enough for everyone to hear him - "I love funerals"! He may have had a nice time but something must have stuck with him. A few days later I got sick with allergies and a cold and I lost my voice completely. I could move my mouth and give it the old college try but not much sound came out. More like a crackled, breathless wheeze was all. I was out in the yard trying to get Matt home from the neighbors house one day last week. I couldn't vocalize loud enough so I just started clapping my hands and waving a lot. I finally caught his attention and he headed home with a worried look on his face. He said "Mom, what's the matter?" And I strained to whisper, "Nothing honey, Mama's just lost her voice." And he threw his arms around me and started crying saying, "I don't want you to die!! Who's going to take care of me if you die?" God bless him for worrying about me like that - he didn't believe that I wasn't dying for the next several days it took me to get my voice back. Every time he saw me he would ask me if my voice was back yet and if I was going to be ok. Bless him.
Meanwhile, I was very sick for a few days - and had to keep working. There's no rest for the single mom and if I miss one day of work I have trouble getting all the bills paid on time. I was sick and tired and then I had to take Matthew to his tee ball practice. It was the first practice I'd gotten to go to - since mom would take him on the Saturday practices while I was working. I was not feeling well at all and my voice was gone but I was excited to go. And then a real sadness came over me. Not sadness for me but sadness for my boy. There were moms and dads out at the ball field watching their little ones learn the game. There were people out there in folding chairs, sharing dinner, taking pictures. There was a sense of family and a feeling of community - friends and neighbors chatting, kids knew each other and babies toddling around in the grass. And then there was me. I sat there alone. No one talked to me, no one pulled for my kid but me, no one sat up in their chair when Mattie got up to bat. I couldn't even yell out some general encouragement because of my missing voice. And I was so sad for him. My dad would have been there. My brother would have been there for him. Even my friend Mark would have come but they were all gone. Mom would have come but she was under the weather that day. It was just me and I hoped I was enough for him. Not just on the bleachers at ball practice but for his life. I'm his "family" and it wasn't going to be like it was when I was a kid - when even the aunts and uncles would come out to support me. Somebody needs to pull for that kid. What if I did die from Laryngitis? Who would pull for him on a Thursday evening at baseball practice?
And that brings me up to yesterday (and the blog I posted earlier today) and what a wonderful day I had at the tee ball game. I can see what a good boy he is and I can see the good I'm doing in him. And I know that Matthew being a part of a team means the whole team pulls for him. Happily my voice is also back and I was able to yell out his name in support of him! I worry about Matthew and my ablility to raise him alone in a time when it "takes a village". I couldn't ask for a better ex hub in his dad - he does what he can considering we're 5 hours apart and my mom is really an extention of me. But day in and day out though, it's just me and what a responsibility that is. I just hope I'm getting it right.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
I've had a real up and down last couple of weeks. Mostly down, I guess and sometimes I just feel that way. The blues creep in, a little cloud or a hint of just sadness and it takes me a minute or two to shake it. Throw in the death of an uncle, being sick, having a sick child, general work worries and some round about frustrations - some days it's hard to get out of bed. But like they say in the entertainment business - "The show must go on" is also true in life. I'm happy to be back on my blog today and today I feel good. Really good! It's a beautiful day, Matt's good health is coming back and overall life is good. A little sleep deprived from the last couple of days but over all really good.
I wanted to talk about yesterday and how important a day is was for Matthew - and a real important day for me. It was Matthew's first Tee Ball game. A coming of age moment for a 5 year old boy. I was so excited about it in fact I had trouble getting to sleep the night before. I know, that's a little silly but it was true, I was so excited to see my little boy in a uniform, dipping his cleat-covered toes into America's Game, standing on the field in the shadow of the Star-Spangled Banner a part of a team and in the spirit of competition. My kid had put a lot of work into his practices, he and I had spent afternoons shagging fly balls and scooping up grounders in our back yard. I taught him the fundamentals of the game. And finally the time had come for him to don his new gear and get out on the dusty diamond.
Unfortunately Matthew has been under the weather the last few days. With a combination of allergies, asthma and a good old spring time cold Matthew missed school on Friday. He woke up with a wicked cough. My mom kept him for part of the day and by the time she brought him to me at work she suggested he was well enough he could have gone to school! I understand where that comes from because even on Matthew's sickest days he can give you a run for your money! But just the same, he stayed with me at work until my shift was over and then we headed home. Sure enough he did seem to be feeling a lot better - and with the help of Benedryl, Singular and Robitussin he wasn't coughing nearly as much. He headed outdoors to play with the neighbor kids and by the time he got back in he was coughing so much I thought for sure he was going to hurt something. I felt so bad for him. You can see in his face when he's really not feeling well and it was one of those looks. So I dragged out the nebulizer and started up the hourly breathing treatments. I was hoping we could head off the full blown asthma attack with his Albuterol.
He wanted to play his ball game in the morning and I wanted him to but I wasn't going to send him out in the dusty, pollen covered morning unable to breathe. That's no good. My poor baby, that night, coughed so much he spit up in the bed. It was a long night for him and for me - I was changing the bed and doing laundry in the middle of the night and doing the breathing treatments every time he would wake up coughing. Eventually he settled down and finally got some rest. Maybe we'd managed the asthma spell and hopefully he would feel better come morning. And indeed he did feel a lot better! The wheezing had stopped and his cough was dormant. We did a breathing treatment for good measure, hopped him up on Benedryl, dressed him in his oversized uniform and headed down to the ball park!!
Now sleep deprivation is a funny thing and it affects people in different ways. For me - an overly senisitive, emotional person in the first place the more tired I am the more emotional I become. Yesterday at the ballgame was no exception! We stepped out of the car and headed towards the field and right away I was overcome with emotion! All of a sudden I missed my dad, remembering that Matthew's little league game was one of the things he wanted to see. How proud my dad would have been of this little boy of mine and I so wished he could have been there to see him. I took my place on the front row of the hot, metal bleachers right along the first base line and wiped away real tears (I know...but I can't help it!), took a deep breath
and commenced to pulling for my kid, 2nd baseman, number 40. SO PROUD!
Now, as far as teeball goes, there's not a whole lot of actual technique or athletic skill that's involved. But I pulled for that kid like he were in the majors. Turns out I had a little room to be proud! He fielded a ground ball and threw it 'towards' first base! That's what his coaches asked him to do and that's what he did and when it happened I lept to my feet screaming "GOOD JOB MATTIE! GREAT PLAY!" And then all of a sudden I remembered myself and turned around to apologize to the others in the stands. And they laughed and understood! But Matthew's cheering section is pretty small (my mom and myself) and I wanted to make sure the boy knew I was proud of him. He'll never know just how proud - but I wanted him to hear and feel special. I think he did!
At first I wasn't a fan of "every kid plays, no score keeping, every team wins - no team loses" kind of system that some of the kids sports leagues have developed. When I was a kid there were winners and losers. You had an opportunity to be both and that was good. I wanted Matt to know how to win gracefully as well as lose without a crushing blow to his self-esteem (or whatever some feel losing does to a kid). Regardless, I've completely changed my mind about that. Sitting in the stands it was easy to see who the better team was without benefit of a score and it just didn't matter. I found myself pulling for the kids on both teams and it was fun seeing any type of play - especially if it resembled any form of baseball! There was a little boy on the other team that limped up to the plate. He was the last batter of the inning (again, not really up with 'outs') and he got a hit. I didn't realize it until he got closer to first base but he had some sort of real disability. One of his little arms were drawn up and his toes dragged the ground when he ran. But he got a hit and he was running and he was smiling. The coaches yelled for him to run - keep running, all the way home. And he did and the crowds on both sets of bleachers cheered for him. He made it home and raised his arms in the air with a little boys fist pump in defiance of his disability. The coach patted him on top of the helmet and the kid was as proud as he could be. And I cried. And now I get it. Sometimes score really doesn't matter and it's not just a game.
The end of the game came at the end of the second inning. They all lined up and did the good game hand slap. Matt collected his snack and juice box and we headed home. I told him he did great and how proud I was of him. He didn't have a lot to say about the game but was thrilled with the snack he received afterwards! I have the feeling that his little teeball game didn't mean nearly as much to him as it did to me. I was so proud of my boy for paying attention during the game, not having a meltdown tantrum (like at least 3 other kids did) and finishing the whole game without complaining or having to use the bathroom. He did what he was told, he listened to his coaches and he managed to resemble a baseball player! Did I mention how proud I was? I can't wait for next Saturday!
I wanted to talk about yesterday and how important a day is was for Matthew - and a real important day for me. It was Matthew's first Tee Ball game. A coming of age moment for a 5 year old boy. I was so excited about it in fact I had trouble getting to sleep the night before. I know, that's a little silly but it was true, I was so excited to see my little boy in a uniform, dipping his cleat-covered toes into America's Game, standing on the field in the shadow of the Star-Spangled Banner a part of a team and in the spirit of competition. My kid had put a lot of work into his practices, he and I had spent afternoons shagging fly balls and scooping up grounders in our back yard. I taught him the fundamentals of the game. And finally the time had come for him to don his new gear and get out on the dusty diamond.
Unfortunately Matthew has been under the weather the last few days. With a combination of allergies, asthma and a good old spring time cold Matthew missed school on Friday. He woke up with a wicked cough. My mom kept him for part of the day and by the time she brought him to me at work she suggested he was well enough he could have gone to school! I understand where that comes from because even on Matthew's sickest days he can give you a run for your money! But just the same, he stayed with me at work until my shift was over and then we headed home. Sure enough he did seem to be feeling a lot better - and with the help of Benedryl, Singular and Robitussin he wasn't coughing nearly as much. He headed outdoors to play with the neighbor kids and by the time he got back in he was coughing so much I thought for sure he was going to hurt something. I felt so bad for him. You can see in his face when he's really not feeling well and it was one of those looks. So I dragged out the nebulizer and started up the hourly breathing treatments. I was hoping we could head off the full blown asthma attack with his Albuterol.
He wanted to play his ball game in the morning and I wanted him to but I wasn't going to send him out in the dusty, pollen covered morning unable to breathe. That's no good. My poor baby, that night, coughed so much he spit up in the bed. It was a long night for him and for me - I was changing the bed and doing laundry in the middle of the night and doing the breathing treatments every time he would wake up coughing. Eventually he settled down and finally got some rest. Maybe we'd managed the asthma spell and hopefully he would feel better come morning. And indeed he did feel a lot better! The wheezing had stopped and his cough was dormant. We did a breathing treatment for good measure, hopped him up on Benedryl, dressed him in his oversized uniform and headed down to the ball park!!
Now sleep deprivation is a funny thing and it affects people in different ways. For me - an overly senisitive, emotional person in the first place the more tired I am the more emotional I become. Yesterday at the ballgame was no exception! We stepped out of the car and headed towards the field and right away I was overcome with emotion! All of a sudden I missed my dad, remembering that Matthew's little league game was one of the things he wanted to see. How proud my dad would have been of this little boy of mine and I so wished he could have been there to see him. I took my place on the front row of the hot, metal bleachers right along the first base line and wiped away real tears (I know...but I can't help it!), took a deep breath
and commenced to pulling for my kid, 2nd baseman, number 40. SO PROUD!
Now, as far as teeball goes, there's not a whole lot of actual technique or athletic skill that's involved. But I pulled for that kid like he were in the majors. Turns out I had a little room to be proud! He fielded a ground ball and threw it 'towards' first base! That's what his coaches asked him to do and that's what he did and when it happened I lept to my feet screaming "GOOD JOB MATTIE! GREAT PLAY!" And then all of a sudden I remembered myself and turned around to apologize to the others in the stands. And they laughed and understood! But Matthew's cheering section is pretty small (my mom and myself) and I wanted to make sure the boy knew I was proud of him. He'll never know just how proud - but I wanted him to hear and feel special. I think he did!
At first I wasn't a fan of "every kid plays, no score keeping, every team wins - no team loses" kind of system that some of the kids sports leagues have developed. When I was a kid there were winners and losers. You had an opportunity to be both and that was good. I wanted Matt to know how to win gracefully as well as lose without a crushing blow to his self-esteem (or whatever some feel losing does to a kid). Regardless, I've completely changed my mind about that. Sitting in the stands it was easy to see who the better team was without benefit of a score and it just didn't matter. I found myself pulling for the kids on both teams and it was fun seeing any type of play - especially if it resembled any form of baseball! There was a little boy on the other team that limped up to the plate. He was the last batter of the inning (again, not really up with 'outs') and he got a hit. I didn't realize it until he got closer to first base but he had some sort of real disability. One of his little arms were drawn up and his toes dragged the ground when he ran. But he got a hit and he was running and he was smiling. The coaches yelled for him to run - keep running, all the way home. And he did and the crowds on both sets of bleachers cheered for him. He made it home and raised his arms in the air with a little boys fist pump in defiance of his disability. The coach patted him on top of the helmet and the kid was as proud as he could be. And I cried. And now I get it. Sometimes score really doesn't matter and it's not just a game.
The end of the game came at the end of the second inning. They all lined up and did the good game hand slap. Matt collected his snack and juice box and we headed home. I told him he did great and how proud I was of him. He didn't have a lot to say about the game but was thrilled with the snack he received afterwards! I have the feeling that his little teeball game didn't mean nearly as much to him as it did to me. I was so proud of my boy for paying attention during the game, not having a meltdown tantrum (like at least 3 other kids did) and finishing the whole game without complaining or having to use the bathroom. He did what he was told, he listened to his coaches and he managed to resemble a baseball player! Did I mention how proud I was? I can't wait for next Saturday!
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Matthew's Got Talent
When I was a kid I wanted to be a singer when I grew up. I always thought I was good at it and my dad thought I was the best. I don't know if I was really good or not but I sure felt like it when I was 'practicing' in the shower. The closest I ever got to singing professionally was occasionally sitting in with my dad's bluegrass band and later hosting my very own Karaoke show. Barely a living and hardly a "star". The older I got the less likely my dream of stardom was bound to be reality. In fact I pretty much stopped singing all together. But since that was all my heart was ever set on - once that dream faded away I didn't really have a clue what I should do or what "else" I wanted to be. I just was. I settled in the veterinary field - a nice job but hardly glamorous. And so that's what I "am" - I'm a professional animal hospital employee. I like it just fine and it pays the bills. Is it what I've wanted my whole life? No.
It's funny how life becomes what it does whether we like it or not. And life certainly has a way of becoming itself without any outside interference. There was a time when I thought I'd die if I couldn't sing. I wanted to be famous and I felt like I was a person that everyone needed to know. I was going to be a singer, nevermind I didn't have a plan to make that become reality. There was no Star Search, no American Idol shows, it was just going to happen for me - famous singer. It never occurred to me that it wouldn't be my future. And it certainly never dawned on me that I might become a mother instead. It never crossed my mind - I didn't even want to be a mom. But I am, and I'm blessed and so happy about it and now I sing to my son.
When Matthew was a newborn I would rock him for hours singing to him. I didn't know many lull-a-byes so I just sang whatever came to mind. One day I had no idea that dad was listening to me when I heard him laughing out loud - I'd been singing to my precious infant baby "Still Doin' Time in a Honky Tonk Prison"; a George Jones classic. Um, ok. Matt didn't mind though - and dad got a good laugh over it. At least my experience as a karaoke girl wasn't an entire waste of time! These days we sing his homework, his name, his punishment - anything we can squeeze into a tune. I've also gotten him several instruments and a microphone just hoping he'll catch the music bug. This morning he was singing his heart out in the shower and I applauded him when he was through. Of course he was mad at me for listening to him and told me to get out! I'm hoping with a little encouragement (and pushing and prodding on the part of his wanna-be crazy stage mom) maybe he'll be the next American Idol (about 11 years from now) and I can live out my dream through him! Now that life has done it's thing - and made me what I am today - I can't imagine anything but motherhood! Mom and veterinary technician is what I am and one of these days - with some talent and a whole lot of luck Matthew can be the famous singer and I can quit my veterinary hospital job and get on his payroll as manager! Maybe the dream is still alive?
It's funny how life becomes what it does whether we like it or not. And life certainly has a way of becoming itself without any outside interference. There was a time when I thought I'd die if I couldn't sing. I wanted to be famous and I felt like I was a person that everyone needed to know. I was going to be a singer, nevermind I didn't have a plan to make that become reality. There was no Star Search, no American Idol shows, it was just going to happen for me - famous singer. It never occurred to me that it wouldn't be my future. And it certainly never dawned on me that I might become a mother instead. It never crossed my mind - I didn't even want to be a mom. But I am, and I'm blessed and so happy about it and now I sing to my son.
When Matthew was a newborn I would rock him for hours singing to him. I didn't know many lull-a-byes so I just sang whatever came to mind. One day I had no idea that dad was listening to me when I heard him laughing out loud - I'd been singing to my precious infant baby "Still Doin' Time in a Honky Tonk Prison"; a George Jones classic. Um, ok. Matt didn't mind though - and dad got a good laugh over it. At least my experience as a karaoke girl wasn't an entire waste of time! These days we sing his homework, his name, his punishment - anything we can squeeze into a tune. I've also gotten him several instruments and a microphone just hoping he'll catch the music bug. This morning he was singing his heart out in the shower and I applauded him when he was through. Of course he was mad at me for listening to him and told me to get out! I'm hoping with a little encouragement (and pushing and prodding on the part of his wanna-be crazy stage mom) maybe he'll be the next American Idol (about 11 years from now) and I can live out my dream through him! Now that life has done it's thing - and made me what I am today - I can't imagine anything but motherhood! Mom and veterinary technician is what I am and one of these days - with some talent and a whole lot of luck Matthew can be the famous singer and I can quit my veterinary hospital job and get on his payroll as manager! Maybe the dream is still alive?
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Traveling Matt
Before little Matthew came along, the Hub and I would go places. We would do things like jump in the car at midnight and drive all the way to the Blue Ridge Parkway just to better see the stars. Or once we decided on a whim to drive 8 hours to Kentucky for a NASCAR race. We literally said "Hey, let's go to Kentucky" and the next thing we did was throw some clothes in a bag and left the house. We did that a lot and it made our life interesting and fun. When the baby came, that stopped. We took him places but the spontaneity was gone. We'd plan, pack everything but the kitchen sink, stop a hundred times along the way and by the time we got to where we were going I was a nervous wreck just from the drive! Our little last minute, drive til we get to somewhere trips were a thing of the past. Subsequently the marriage was also becoming a thing of the past. . .
I remember one day clearly, Matthew was about 2 years old and was having a wicked tantrum. He was melting down right in front of my eyes, kicking and screaming, throwing things, even trying to pull the blinds off the windows. I don't remember the reason for the wrath of the terrible two but it was a whopper. I couldn't get him to calm down and since I was alone in this epic drama I couldn't run away so I figured I'd try the old "car ride until he falls asleep" trick. He settled in his little car seat and off we went. I didn't know where we were going and I didn't care. The payoff that time was not going to be the destination but the benefit of the ride. Matthew liked riding in the car and he almost always took a nap. On that first little trip of ours we landed in Blowing Rock, North Carolina. We played in the park, we sat in the grass and we strolled around the pond. Matthew threw his Cheerios to the ducks who were surprisingly close to his little toes! We went onto Main Street and had ice cream from Kilwin's and we window shopped - Matthew paying close attention to all things shiny and colorful. Not once did he fuss or cry or throw anything at me. We had a perfectly pleasant afternoon. Blowing Rock was already one of my favorite places and this little trip was exceptional. We had a nice time, just baby and me and it occurred to me then that "family vacation" didn't have to look like it did when I was a kid!
When I had settled in to my new role as working, single mother I had almost resigned myself to work, home, work, home, weekend - clean the house. Work, home, work, home, weekend - clean the house. It didn't occur to me to do something fun or go somewhere. Almost like a vacation was something "families" did - you know - mom, dad and kids. It was almost like I was waiting for a new, "proper" family unit to be in place so we could pick up where my last family unit left off. But finally it dawned on me that I might never be "proper" or for that matter, who says that myself and my kid aren't enough to be considered a 'family'? And with that realization and armed with a camera and some mapquest directioins to some destination we were off! Since our little impromptu trip to Blowing Rock that day Matthew and I have been about a zillion places from parks in our back yard to places a couple states away. Generally if we could get there within a few hours drive we'd go - stopping at interesting things along the way. I'd loosely plan the bigger trips but mostly I'd decide that morning where we'd be going. I tried to stay away from the "planned right down to the minute" kind of excursion, we'd just go - and let the day lead us. And we've had the best times.
Spring is trying it's best to get here - and this past weekend was beautiful. The sun and the warmth have a way of bringing on that urge to go somewhere. I went to work Saturday morning knowing I wanted to take Matthew somewhere that afternoon. By the time I got home I'd decided Wilmington, North Carolina would be the place. We could go see the USS Battleship and maybe see the ocean. It was about a 4 hour drive according to Mapquest so I figured we'd just go down Saturday, stay the night and come home some time Sunday. And that's what we did. And we had the best trip!
If I would have planned it it wouldn't have been as good! We got into Wrightsville Beach, just past Wilmington at dark and got a hotel. I didn't realize it until the next morning that our hotel was right across from the inlet and a beautiful marina! The sun was coming up over boats in the harbor and the view was spectacular! I had no idea! I even got a big discount on the beachy themed room because the guy just dropped the prices. That morning we got to the USS North Carolina FIRST and were the only people on the whole ship!! Again, score. After our ship tour Matthew wanted to go down to the ocean. I wasn't familiar with Wrightsville Beach but it turned out to be lovely - we spent a couple hours on the beach, had some lunch at South Side Grill and played some video games at the pier. We could have gone home that minute and we would have been satisfied with our day - but we had one more stop to make. Since being in town people kept asking us if we were there for the Azalea Festival. Nope, didn't even know what it was - but I figured we were there, we might as well check it out. We parked at the River Walk in downtown Wilmington. There was a sea of people! Bands, food vendors, shops, entertainment. We walked along the Cape Fear River seeing all there was to see. We even took a boat tour of the river and had an amazing look at the Battleship from all sides, impressed with its sheer size and beauty (in a battleship sort of way). We wrapped up our day in historic downtown Wilmington with a chocolate Italian Gelato for Matt and Espresso for me (extra juice for the drive home!) All and all it was just general fun and one of the best trips we'd had in a while.
The little day trips or weekend get-a-ways have become "our thing", a part of who we are. I'm hoping they also become wonderful memories for Matthew when he's all grown up and looks back fondly at his childhood and the "family vacations" just like I do looking back on mine.
I remember one day clearly, Matthew was about 2 years old and was having a wicked tantrum. He was melting down right in front of my eyes, kicking and screaming, throwing things, even trying to pull the blinds off the windows. I don't remember the reason for the wrath of the terrible two but it was a whopper. I couldn't get him to calm down and since I was alone in this epic drama I couldn't run away so I figured I'd try the old "car ride until he falls asleep" trick. He settled in his little car seat and off we went. I didn't know where we were going and I didn't care. The payoff that time was not going to be the destination but the benefit of the ride. Matthew liked riding in the car and he almost always took a nap. On that first little trip of ours we landed in Blowing Rock, North Carolina. We played in the park, we sat in the grass and we strolled around the pond. Matthew threw his Cheerios to the ducks who were surprisingly close to his little toes! We went onto Main Street and had ice cream from Kilwin's and we window shopped - Matthew paying close attention to all things shiny and colorful. Not once did he fuss or cry or throw anything at me. We had a perfectly pleasant afternoon. Blowing Rock was already one of my favorite places and this little trip was exceptional. We had a nice time, just baby and me and it occurred to me then that "family vacation" didn't have to look like it did when I was a kid!
When I had settled in to my new role as working, single mother I had almost resigned myself to work, home, work, home, weekend - clean the house. Work, home, work, home, weekend - clean the house. It didn't occur to me to do something fun or go somewhere. Almost like a vacation was something "families" did - you know - mom, dad and kids. It was almost like I was waiting for a new, "proper" family unit to be in place so we could pick up where my last family unit left off. But finally it dawned on me that I might never be "proper" or for that matter, who says that myself and my kid aren't enough to be considered a 'family'? And with that realization and armed with a camera and some mapquest directioins to some destination we were off! Since our little impromptu trip to Blowing Rock that day Matthew and I have been about a zillion places from parks in our back yard to places a couple states away. Generally if we could get there within a few hours drive we'd go - stopping at interesting things along the way. I'd loosely plan the bigger trips but mostly I'd decide that morning where we'd be going. I tried to stay away from the "planned right down to the minute" kind of excursion, we'd just go - and let the day lead us. And we've had the best times.
Spring is trying it's best to get here - and this past weekend was beautiful. The sun and the warmth have a way of bringing on that urge to go somewhere. I went to work Saturday morning knowing I wanted to take Matthew somewhere that afternoon. By the time I got home I'd decided Wilmington, North Carolina would be the place. We could go see the USS Battleship and maybe see the ocean. It was about a 4 hour drive according to Mapquest so I figured we'd just go down Saturday, stay the night and come home some time Sunday. And that's what we did. And we had the best trip!
If I would have planned it it wouldn't have been as good! We got into Wrightsville Beach, just past Wilmington at dark and got a hotel. I didn't realize it until the next morning that our hotel was right across from the inlet and a beautiful marina! The sun was coming up over boats in the harbor and the view was spectacular! I had no idea! I even got a big discount on the beachy themed room because the guy just dropped the prices. That morning we got to the USS North Carolina FIRST and were the only people on the whole ship!! Again, score. After our ship tour Matthew wanted to go down to the ocean. I wasn't familiar with Wrightsville Beach but it turned out to be lovely - we spent a couple hours on the beach, had some lunch at South Side Grill and played some video games at the pier. We could have gone home that minute and we would have been satisfied with our day - but we had one more stop to make. Since being in town people kept asking us if we were there for the Azalea Festival. Nope, didn't even know what it was - but I figured we were there, we might as well check it out. We parked at the River Walk in downtown Wilmington. There was a sea of people! Bands, food vendors, shops, entertainment. We walked along the Cape Fear River seeing all there was to see. We even took a boat tour of the river and had an amazing look at the Battleship from all sides, impressed with its sheer size and beauty (in a battleship sort of way). We wrapped up our day in historic downtown Wilmington with a chocolate Italian Gelato for Matt and Espresso for me (extra juice for the drive home!) All and all it was just general fun and one of the best trips we'd had in a while.
The little day trips or weekend get-a-ways have become "our thing", a part of who we are. I'm hoping they also become wonderful memories for Matthew when he's all grown up and looks back fondly at his childhood and the "family vacations" just like I do looking back on mine.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Yesterday a friend of mine suggested I come to Blogger.com and start a blog. I said "Ok, I'll do that". I saw my friend earlier today who had placed me on his 'list' - his 'bad-list' for not coming in here right after we spoke yesterday and starting a blog. I had no idea he meant go and do it RIGHT NOW. And so, in order to get off the 'bad-list' of my friend Kevin, here I am! Officially I've started my very own blog! I'm happy to be here!
Let me introduce myself (and bear with me, I'm new here)...my name's Jonna Bingham and I'm a single mom to a rambunctious, full of life, very talkative, smart, beautiful 5, almost 6 year old handful of a boy. And I love him very much. Before you go, "Oh Great! Another blog about someones kid should be exciting!" here me out. We're special! Seriously. Wait, I mean it! Well, ok. Maybe not special but at least interesting. Or at least I've been told.
I used to listen to a guy on talk radio who would continuously dismiss single moms as careless women who just ran around having babies at leisure, living off the government and producers of the next generation of street thugs and criminals. If some kid got into some random trouble and made the news this talk show host would not fail to mention; "Oh, and his father wasn't around" or "and I'll bet his mother doesn't even know who his father is". This radio guy would make me so mad when he would generalize single moms as some sort of thoughtless tramps with no control of their destined for failure offspring! Every time he had some topic related to single parenting he couldn't help himself but say the hurtful and mostly wrong things he believed. Likewise, I couldn't stop myself from firing off angry emails to him. He never responded to my complaints and I didn't expect him to. But I felt better when at least I voiced that not all single moms are 'bad'. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, I think you'll be hard pressed to find a harder working, sacrificing and dedicated woman than a single mom. Not just me - but the other moms I know who are going it alone. I interviewed for a job about a year ago with a man who, after asking me all about my son, my daycare, my living arrangements, etc, said to me, and I quote, "You're what we're looking for but single moms just come with so much baggage". I left from that interview painfully aware of the perception of a single mom and even more steadfast in my determination to make it.
I never intended to be a single mom - well who does, really? I did it in the (traditionally) right order - dated, marriage, career (that's a stretch) then pregnancy. We didn't 'plan' to be pregnant but we were none the less thrilled about our little blessing. The baby came and all was fairly well and then - without warning - BLAM! A big wrench in the spokes! The wheels came off the marriage and by baby's first birthday it was all over but the crying. We separated and I was left to it. Raising a baby boy on my own - I don't believe I even missed a beat. I sold a house, went back to work, found a church daycare, found a home to rent, moved in and started a new chapter in mine and Matt's life! And I'm fine! Matthew and I are doing great and if my radio friend could see us he'd swear there's a man stashed around here somewhere helping me! It might not be the ideal situation but it's ok and I feel sure that my son will not grow up to make America's Most Wanted.
Today I had a parent/teacher conference and thankfully Matthew's not the worst in his class! In fact, I'm happy to report that academically he's ahead of the game! He talks too much according to his teacher and he wants to be the center of attention. I understand that - I too feel like the world spins right around me. And his dad talks for a living. He is a complete and equally balanced mixture of the ex-hub and myself which if handled properly could very well grow up and be something spectacular (or some sort of history maker one way or the other. . .). I'm so proud of him! His teachers like him and he's only been to the principle's office twice. I think he's going to pass kindergarten with flying colors - not bad for a kid who spent a few years being watched from 9 to 5 by the church ladies funded by his working moms hard-earned paycheck.
I have so much to say about my little son, our life together and the 'art' of single parenting. Matthew's a funny little boy and always makes for interesting conversation. I think I want to use my new blog to talk about all things single parent - the fun stuff, the not so fun stuff, the lonely times, the longing and the triumphant. I'm thankful for my friend Kevin for suggesting I use this outlet, even more grateful that he verbally kicked me in the rear to get started already. I've enjoyed writing for you tonight - dear reader and I hope you'll come back to check on us often!
Let me introduce myself (and bear with me, I'm new here)...my name's Jonna Bingham and I'm a single mom to a rambunctious, full of life, very talkative, smart, beautiful 5, almost 6 year old handful of a boy. And I love him very much. Before you go, "Oh Great! Another blog about someones kid should be exciting!" here me out. We're special! Seriously. Wait, I mean it! Well, ok. Maybe not special but at least interesting. Or at least I've been told.
I used to listen to a guy on talk radio who would continuously dismiss single moms as careless women who just ran around having babies at leisure, living off the government and producers of the next generation of street thugs and criminals. If some kid got into some random trouble and made the news this talk show host would not fail to mention; "Oh, and his father wasn't around" or "and I'll bet his mother doesn't even know who his father is". This radio guy would make me so mad when he would generalize single moms as some sort of thoughtless tramps with no control of their destined for failure offspring! Every time he had some topic related to single parenting he couldn't help himself but say the hurtful and mostly wrong things he believed. Likewise, I couldn't stop myself from firing off angry emails to him. He never responded to my complaints and I didn't expect him to. But I felt better when at least I voiced that not all single moms are 'bad'. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, I think you'll be hard pressed to find a harder working, sacrificing and dedicated woman than a single mom. Not just me - but the other moms I know who are going it alone. I interviewed for a job about a year ago with a man who, after asking me all about my son, my daycare, my living arrangements, etc, said to me, and I quote, "You're what we're looking for but single moms just come with so much baggage". I left from that interview painfully aware of the perception of a single mom and even more steadfast in my determination to make it.
I never intended to be a single mom - well who does, really? I did it in the (traditionally) right order - dated, marriage, career (that's a stretch) then pregnancy. We didn't 'plan' to be pregnant but we were none the less thrilled about our little blessing. The baby came and all was fairly well and then - without warning - BLAM! A big wrench in the spokes! The wheels came off the marriage and by baby's first birthday it was all over but the crying. We separated and I was left to it. Raising a baby boy on my own - I don't believe I even missed a beat. I sold a house, went back to work, found a church daycare, found a home to rent, moved in and started a new chapter in mine and Matt's life! And I'm fine! Matthew and I are doing great and if my radio friend could see us he'd swear there's a man stashed around here somewhere helping me! It might not be the ideal situation but it's ok and I feel sure that my son will not grow up to make America's Most Wanted.
Today I had a parent/teacher conference and thankfully Matthew's not the worst in his class! In fact, I'm happy to report that academically he's ahead of the game! He talks too much according to his teacher and he wants to be the center of attention. I understand that - I too feel like the world spins right around me. And his dad talks for a living. He is a complete and equally balanced mixture of the ex-hub and myself which if handled properly could very well grow up and be something spectacular (or some sort of history maker one way or the other. . .). I'm so proud of him! His teachers like him and he's only been to the principle's office twice. I think he's going to pass kindergarten with flying colors - not bad for a kid who spent a few years being watched from 9 to 5 by the church ladies funded by his working moms hard-earned paycheck.
I have so much to say about my little son, our life together and the 'art' of single parenting. Matthew's a funny little boy and always makes for interesting conversation. I think I want to use my new blog to talk about all things single parent - the fun stuff, the not so fun stuff, the lonely times, the longing and the triumphant. I'm thankful for my friend Kevin for suggesting I use this outlet, even more grateful that he verbally kicked me in the rear to get started already. I've enjoyed writing for you tonight - dear reader and I hope you'll come back to check on us often!
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