He is Now a Role Model

A couple weeks ago, Cortney made his graduation from college official by participating in commencement. I proudly sat in the super hot field house packed tightly on a folding chair between my sister-in-law (bless her heart sitting there all first-trimestery) and a woman who was not tiny who decided to sit sideways in her seat which means her left thigh/butt cheek was all pressed on my thigh all the while a small boy about Eddie’s age sat backward in his folding chair in front of me swinging his legs and bruising up my shins nicely.

I fanned myself with the program.  You know…the program that had this in it:

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We craned our necks and saw him walk in.  One WOO WOO from Cort’s mom and he knew where we were seated, which meant that later, after all the speakers and honorary what-have-you’s when he was up front waiting to walk across the stage, he and I could exchange big stupid grins from across the huge field house.

Normally, the speeches and everything bore me to death, but I sort of paid attention to the commencement address this time (partly because she polled the audience to see how many people actually remember any of the graduation speeches they have ever heard and I could not raise my hand…which is especially sad not just because I sit through high school graduation every single year, but because some of those speeches? I helped write. Oops).

Anyway, the speech.  Her theme was Everything You Need to Know you Learned at GRCC.  It was cute and quirky and she even interviewed specific students to use their anecdotes. It was nice.

Most of that stuff I don’t remember.

What I do remember is that she told the graduates that they learned to be role models.

She, also a community college grad, related to the graduating class about WHY people choose to go to community college:  some for financial reasons…to get those “gen eds” out of the way on the cheap, but many many are there because of a negative reason: nowhere else would take them.

It brought me back to the night Cort got his honors medal.  Each student awarded was able to say a few words upon acceptance.  One beautiful young girl (young to me, she was probably in her 20′s) took the mic and told us that she had all the staff to thank.  She came to GRCC as a high school dropout who had messed up in every possible way, and now she was graduating with the highest honors the college could bestow upon her.

My eyes teared up.

Cort was not a high school dropout, but he didn’t do his best the first time he did college.  He wasn’t focused, he didn’t know what he wanted out of college, and he was just not ready.  He had been an Ok student in high school, but there you didn’t have to have a focus other than finishing the courses the counselors told you to do.  College was different, and after two years in two different universities, he left for the work world.

Five years ago, he and I sat down to talk about how much he hated his job at the time.  We talked about going back to school.

“For what? Sales? I hate my job,” he lamented.

“If you could get paid to do anything, what would it be?” I asked him (as I have asked innumerable students in the past)

“I don’t know. Computer stuff?”

“There are a million ‘computer stuff’ degrees…and those people make nice money, babe.”

And so off he went.  Full of doubt, but focused.

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In the five years that he was in school, he lost a job and gained a job.

He became a dad.

He lost both grandpas.

He became an uncle.

He gained four new in-laws.

He survived a wife with mood disorders.

He supported his family even when he needed to do homework…and he still got A’s.

He became a role model to many, many people, but mostly to our sons.

One thing our family values is education (in case you didn’t notice).  When we did our “priceless conversation” with our will, we talked extensively about the importance of education.  Of knowledge. Of being a life-long learner.

When I was in 6th grade, my mom decided to pursue a dream of hers and went back to school to study accounting.  She graduated from college the same spring I graded from high school.  That has had an enormous impact on me.  It has fueled my belief that you don’t say no to your dreams.  You don’t say no to a thirst for knowledge.

Cortney’s Gram (along with his Gramps) raised eight children, fostered a bazillion, and loved all those kids’ friends like her own.  She played piano and organ for the church.  She owned her own business (with Cort’s Gramps).  To say she was a busy lady is a massive understatement. Yet, she had a passion for learning and, once the kids were grown,  got her Master’s Degree just because she wanted to.  She was most definitely one of Cort’s role models when it came to making the decision to go back.

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Cort almost didn’t walk.  He was done in December and thought it would be silly to walk in May after he had been done for so long.  And for “just” an Associates.

I needed it to be his decision, but oh how I wanted him to walk.

And then his Gram told him, “You will never regret walking, but you most definitely may regret NOT walking.”

So he did.  And he wanted his Gram to be there, but she came down with shingles two days before commencement and couldn’t come.  But Cort’s mom and sister and wife were there.

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And we cheered so loud when his name was called, he admitted that from the stage, it sounded like more than three people.  SCORE!

I don’t really have the words to tell you how proud I am of Cortney.

He is now one of the role models our sons have for strong people who empowered themselves with education.  Who had a thirst that could only be quenched by books and papers and projects and class discussion.  Who wanted something and figured out how to get it.

why yes, I DID make him put this back on for a picture with the boys.

why yes, I DID make him put this back on for a picture with the boys.

We believe education is important.

And we have the degrees on the wall that prove that belief.

We are role models.

complex simplicity

We are always living through something historic, aren’t we?  Every decade, every generation is marked by something that will make the history books be it economical, political, cultural, technological, whatever.

I wish I had first-hand accounts of what my grandparents were thinking as the Civil Rights movement blasted through the nation.  Or my what my parents were thinking during the race riots of the 90′s sparked by the Rodney King verdict.

What went through my grandmothers’ thoughts as my grandfathers were off in other countries fight wars.  What did they think of those wars? What did my parents think of the Vietnam conflict and how my dad ended up not getting drafted?

What about the Regan administration and the War on Drugs and Women’s Suffrage movement and…and…and…

What if my family, my ancestors were story-tellers?

They weren’t.  But I am.  And I am constantly living through history too, and while I have no way of knowing what my boys will wish they knew, I can do my best to give my thoughts and feelings about certain things that are important to me.

I’ve got thoughts on loads of things, which is why I write over at Borderless News and Views. But there are some things that feel personal.  And this is my personal space for personal things.

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So…gay marriage.  That’s a thing right now.  (I suck at transitions sometimes, #SorryNotSorry.)

I’ve been turning it over quite a bit in my head and read some really eloquent posts and wondered if I should even bother with the topic because others have said it so much better.  Some had statistics and a political feel, some had a beautiful, human feel.  Why should I even try?

Because it’s important.

I feel in my heart it’s not “if” but “when”.  I just know that when my boys are teenagers they will hear about this time and ask, “what was the big deal?  How is it not obvious?”

And to that I can only say I don’t know either.

To me, it’s not a question.  We are talking about human beings and giving them civil rights.

We aren’t talking about taking rights from straight people or “traditionally” married people.  We aren’t talking about what is a sin and what isn’t.  We aren’t telling anyone how to live their life.

It’s a simple matter of letting people who have been discriminated against NOT be discriminated against.

Or at least it should be that simple.

But it is not that simple, is it?  People muck it up with complications.  Complications that are, in their hearts, legitimate.  Complications that come from fear.

This entire thing is about fear.

Some people say it will threaten “traditional marriage”.  If “traditional marriage” is the marriage between one man and one woman, I think “traditional marriage” is threatening itself enough, Gay marriage doesn’t need to help with that.  “The Gays” are not making straight people cheat on each other or get divorced after less than 48 hours of marriage or put their kids through crap while they bad-mouth each other in the process of shitty divorces or…well..yeah.  You get it. “Traditional Marriage” and “Gay Marriage” really have nothing to do with each other.

Some people say being gay is a “sin”.  I really don’t know about this.  I don’t believe God originally intended for their to be “homosexual,” but maybe he did.  I mean, I do believe people are born how they are and that we are all born without sin.  So there you go.  But that is just my belief.  It doesn’t matter what my belief is. I could think being gay was a worse sin than murdering all the puppies in Idaho and I would still think they should be allowed to get married.  I mean, I believe jealousy and lying are sins and I fall under both of those categories, yet I was allowed to marry another jealous liar.  So this point seems to be moot to me.

(and don’t get me started on how The Gays shouldn’t be allowed to be parents.  That is both of the above arguments folded into each other with a side of this look: O_o )

Some people are afraid that letting The Gays marry will mean people will want to marry a horse next.  I don’t even know where to go with that.  How do you take two consenting adult males pledging to spend the rest of their lives together and turn it into the lady next door marrying her cat?  I mean really.

Some people are afraid this means we are making churches be Okay with The Gay.  But churches don’t have to perform these marriages.  There is nothing that says, for instance, that the Reformed Church of America has to suddenly make all their ministers perform gay marriages.  Nope.  It means if churches want to do them, they can, but that my friends Mark and Fred can go to the courthouse and get a legit marriage.  No church necessary.

Really I just needed to stop at”some people are afraid.”

That is really what this is about.

I have both gay and lesbian friends.  Spending time with them did not rub “gay” onto me.  I’m still as hetero as they come (which Cort is thankful for, I am sure).

I feel like this is leading to a very cheesy “They’re Just Like You and Me” type message.  Sorry.

My point is I have gay friends. I have gay family.  I have gay students.  I have kids who might be gay (or not) or have gay friends or  inherit more gay family or…or…the point is: gay is here to stay.

Treating them like they are somehow not the same as us is, well, it’s ridiculous. It’s out of style. Seriously.  It went out decades ago when the United States had to tell people that black people (or other races) were not less than anyone else.

These should not even be laws we need to pass (like “allowing” interracial marriage. I mean really? That had to be “allowed”?)   These are not things we should have to say.

People are people.

If you give civil human rights to some, you have to give those same civil human rights to all.

It’s really quite simple.

Wearing read for #MarriageEquality.

Wearing read for #MarriageEquality.

What a Difference

Dear Sluiter Boys,

A year ago we were soaking in our last weekend as a family of three.  I was swept up and covered in emotion the whole weekend.  I remembering wishing I could memorize each saying and giggle of Eddie’s.  I wanted to watch him sleep and bury my nose in his hair.  I wanted to somehow record the feeling of Charlie moving his foot or turning to his side so I could re-feel it long after he left my body.  I wanted to grasp tightly to the small moments of Cort being a daddy to Eddie, an almost-daddy to Charlie, and a husband to me.  Those moments were so precious and he busied himself making preparations so we would all feel safe and loved during the impending upheaval of everything we knew to be our normal.

I was inside my own head a lot that weekend.

Charlie, I often wondered if you could feel my nerves and anxieties since you were rolling around in there with them.  Each time you kicked and tried to move around in your ever-shrinking womb nest, I was reminded that you would soon be here taking up so much of all of our attention.

Eddie, I worried about you, my sweet #1 son.  Would you be Ok now that you weren’t the Only?  Would you love your brother as much as it seemed like you already did?

Cortney, you had worked so hard for all of us, and I knew you were going to have to keep working so hard.  Would you resent me or Charlie?  Would you grow frustrated and discouraged?

March 12, 2012...the night before

March 12, 2012…the night before

I was just so excited to have my Charlie out of my ribs tummy, and into my arms, but at the same time I will never forget the fear that everything would go wrong.

I should have taken the unseasonably warm weather as a good sign.  A sign of growth and renewal.

the weekend before...tulips start to shoot up in the unseasonably warm weather

the weekend before…tulips start to shoot up in the unseasonably warm weather

It was hard for me to watch you, Eddie, in those days before.  You knew you were getting a baby brother out of my tummy, but you went on with your days as if nothing was changing.  You were too small to have the fears to worry about what was to come.  It doubled my worries.  That because you didn’t see this HUGE change ahead, you would suffer more.

Three days before your baby brother arrives.

Three days before your baby brother arrives.

Everyone told me it was normal to be worried…and even afraid.  Afraid my heart wasn’t big enough for TWO boys to love.  I already loved you so much, Eddie.  To the moon.  How could I possibly love another little boy like that?  Would I be enough for both of you?

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Little did I know that my heart was about to grow about a thousand times bigger.  That not only would I love you, Charlie, just as fiercely as your brother, but that I would love Eddie more and you more because of how you love each other.

playing cars with Charlie about a month before his arrival.

playing cars with Charlie about a month before his arrival.

I don’t remember when your uncle Chris was born, but he and I are the same age spread as you boys.  Watching the two of you now, I like to think that I loved Chris as fiercely as you love Charlie, Eddie.  At least I hope I did.

I can’t believe I was ever worried.

Everyone told me the gift of a sibling is the greatest gift you can give a child.  I didn’t know if I believed them.  Everything seemed perfect the way it was.  I felt daddy and I were selfish for wanting another little human.

Except, once you were here, Charlie?  It was quite apparent that the greatest gift we have given Eddie was you.  If Eddie made us a family, you made Eddie a brother.  That is a huge thing, Charlie Bird.

Playing cars with your brother within a week of his arrival.

Playing cars with your brother within a week of his arrival.

I don’t really know where I am going with this letter, guys.  I’ve just been thinking a lot lately about Charlie’s first birthday coming up.

Charlie, I can’t believe it’s been a year.  Seriously.  This year has flown by in ways I didn’t know were possible.

And Eddie, I can’t believe I ever underestimated your ability to love your brother so much.  You are his protector.  You are his comfort.  You are his laugh-maker.  You are his Eddie…his “dee dee dee”.

I look back at a year ago and can’t hardly believe that the life we had before the Bird was real.  That it happened.  That Daddy and I lived our lives and you both were just…not.  That seems impossible to me.

Tonight I watched the two of you.  I rattled off “Be careful of your brother” and “Don’t hit him with your jammy pants, Eddie!” and “You can’t play Wii until you put on underwear” and “Bird!  No licking the couch!” all without thinking about it.  Like I have been commanding these things of my sons my whole life.

My sons.

I have sons.

Daddy is a Daddy and I am a Mommy and we have sons.

Goodness what a difference a little ole year makes.

What the Kids Eat

Usually on Saturdays I try to share a recipe we loved during the week.  Well, this week Cort was pretty much in charge and so we had BLTs and Grilled Cheese and a new recipe he tried (it was good!), so I don’t have pictures or a recipe to share.

But I thought it would be fun to share what my kids eat lately.

For the most part, they eat what we do for dinner.

But there are things that Charlie can’t have yet and things Eddie will try, but won’t eat to being “full”, so we add extras with their dinners to ensure that they get a complete, healthy meal.

This is a typical dinner for four on any given week night…

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I made loaded potato soup and bread.  Eddie is not a soup fan, and he has issues with the texture of potatoes (he’s that one kid who hates mashed potatoes.), so he had nuggets that night along with strawberries, carrots, and a mixed fruit cup.  Pretty sure he ate it all.  That’s his favorite meal.  Charlie had cereal mixed with some sort of pureed food.

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I have been blessed with “good eaters”.  When Eddie was Charlie’s age, he ate everything we gave him.  And lots of it.  Our friends and family who were not blessed with “good eaters” would sit in amazement.

Eddie is still a pretty good eater.  He says he doesn’t like things, but generally it’s not true.

Above is a typical weekend lunch: mac n cheese, organic yogurt, a muffin with organic butter, and peaches.  He probably ate it all.

Charlie has recently decided that at 10 months he is clearly too old and cool for baby food and pureed mush, so he eats what we eat now too.

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Here he has turkey, apple, peas, and carrots.  I distinctly remember he ate it all and then was mad that there wasn’t more.

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Lately we’ve been giving him some of what we have as long as it doesn’t include things (like dairy or nuts) that he is not supposed to have.  This particular night I made a chicken casserole with stuffing and green beans in it.  You can see Eddie had the casserole supplemented with watermelon, peaches, and a cheese stick.  Charlie had the chicken, green beans, and stuffing too, but I put it on his plate before mixing it with the heavy cream stuff.  And I gave him some peas and carrots and peaches too.

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Most of Charlie’s intake is still bottles, though.  He drinks four bottles a day that are anywhere between 6 and 8 ozs.  Although he is so independent that he doesn’t want to be held and fed anymore…other than his last bottle before bed.

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Oh…and we do dessert in this house!  Charlie’s dessert is usually a graham cracker, but if he is lucky, Mommy or Daddy will give him a bite of our treat.  He is particularly partial to apple pie.  Eddie is having a Lemon Cheese cake bar with some ice cream.  That must mean he ate all of the required “bites” for dinner that night.

We strive to have healthy meals together.  Now that Cort is done with school, we sit down as a family almost every single night.  It used to be about 3 out of 7 nights, now it’s closer to 7 out of 7.

My favorite part of all of this is when Eddie, with a mouthful of food, looks at Cort or me and asks, “So. Did you have a great day?”

That is what family dinners are all about.

And Now One for the Ladies…

According to my blog stats from last week, you all love the posts about this guy:

It's the dimple and the close shave, isn't it?

It’s the dimple and the close shave, isn’t it?

Ok, so the shave isn’t quite so close anymore since he shaved in the morning and this picture was taken in the evening, but that just makes you like this guy more, right? Burly.

I wish you could smell him after a shave. It’s…yummy.

Too much information? (Sorry, mom!)

Anyway, he is a die-hard Gillette user.

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He says he likes it because “it’s the best a man can get.”

I kid.

Really he picked it because he was sent one in the mail back when he turned like 16 or something and he has been using it ever since.  In his words, “I never had a reason to change.”

 I asked him why he picked the shave cream too…I mean, he appears to be a living ad for Gillette.

“I have used the creamy kinds before, but the gel kind protects better. It’s smoother with less nicks.”

I asked him if he picked the smell for any reason and he said, “that’s the smell it comes in. I picked the sensitive skin gel and that is the smell I get.”

Hear that ladies…sensitive skin.  Sensitive skin on a sensitive guy.

Just step back with your drooling.  He is taken remember? By ME!

I must also interject here that in a pinch, I have used his shave gel on my legs.  And while I ended up smelling quite manly, I also had super smooth legs with…you guessed it…no nicks.

Win.

I realize this probably sounds like an advertisement for Gillette. And to be honest? It is.

But let me tell you why.

Because P&G eStores have some super fantastic deals going on right now like…

  • 15% off on a first-time order from a new customer, using promo code: A9Z-MN5-KY3-ISA
  • Free Shipping on orders over $25.
  • Free Samples with every order.

They also have this thing where you can buy bundles and save BIG TIME.

For instance they have one called For Daddy’s Kissable Face Cruisers Bundle where you get a big huge box of diapers and Gillette products for under $60.

They also have a bundle with Pampers and various sizes of Duracell batteries called Power Xmas Day Fun Swaddlers Bundle for under $40. Um. This is PERFECT for our house!

You can tell I am a fan of any bundle that has “Pampers” with it…ahem, Charlie.

Want something for yourself?  Get the Simply Beautiful bundle…mmmm. Olay products. LOVE.

More deals for you on products I know are great (because I have bought and used them myself)…

  • Oral B products (we have the power toothbrushes and love them. I tend to brush too hard and brush the enamel right off my teeth if I don’t use my power brush)
  • Olay products (I am partial to the body wash, but really I have not ever bought anything I did love with the Olay name on it)
  • Cover Girl products (I use Cover Girl lash blast mascara…even though I have tried all the pricey make up counter brands, I always come back to this.  I have long lashes and have a hard time finding some that won’t clump…and this doesn’t.)
  • Downy Unstopables (I got this free from P&G at Blogher11 and LOVED the way it made our laundry smell.  When it’s on sale or I find a deal like this one, I splurge and get it)
  • Gillette (duh)
  • Duracell (this has always been our battery of choice.)

Happy shopping!

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Legal stuff: This post was sponsored by P&G and BlogHer. I was compensated for this post, but all my opinions are my own. I chose to ONLY share the brands they carry/have deals on that I have really tried and love. I wouldn’t lead you guys astray…promise.

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I have a post up today at the US BabyHuddle site about how we are attempting to avoid the Holiday Gimmees with Eddie this year.

he did it

I guess it’s been around four or five years now since the time I got sick of listening to the same complaints over and over about his job.

He was so unhappy and it was falling over into our home life.

It had started to go downhill after his dad died in 2005, and by 2008 it was getting tougher and tougher for him to leave work and all the crap of it at work.

As I was finishing up my Master’s Degree in the spring of 2008, I said to him, “Why don’t you go back to school?”

“For what? Business? Sales?”

He was thinking narrowly about getting better at a job he hated.

“What if you could do anything?  Anything at all.  Seriously. If you could get paid to do anything what would it be?”

He didn’t have an immediate answer, but after some thinking he said, “something with computers.”

I had a feeling he would say that since he had always been the resident “geek” in our family and group of friends.  He was self-taught so far–tinkering with old hardware and figuring out how to fix all of our gadgets by himself.

“Babe? That is totally a thing, you know.  Like a well-paying thing. You could totally do that.  Go to school for a degree in nerd…I mean computers.”

He smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

(He’s not a spontaneous decision-maker.  Which is good, because I am.)

That fall I was knocked up and Cort was taking his first college classes.

He was also laid off from the job he hated and never had to go back (Thank you, Bernie and Justin, for the job he now has that he enjoys!).

It’s been four years since the end of that first semester.

Four long years of Cort gone a number of nights a week.

Of weekends spent on homework.

Of worrying about grades and due dates.

Of arranging pick up from daycare.

Of needing evening babysitters when his class schedule and my work schedule overlap.

Of saying “no” to things we would like to do because Cort has class or homework to do.

Of solo-parenting Eddie…and then also Charlie…while daddy is gone.

Of doing everything we can to help Cort not just succeed, but do so brilliantly (can you say Dean’s list EVERY semester?)

He has been working toward this for more of our life together than not.

My only regret about the past four years is not looking into when the college held commencement.  They do not have a winter ceremony, therefore Cort has chosen not to walk (he feels like it will be weird to come back and walk in May, and I have to say I sort of agree with him).

I wish he could put on that cap and gown and walk across that stage.  He deserves it so much.

I wish I could tell you how proud I am.

At 18, he entered the university where I was.  He had no direction and no idea what he wanted to do.  Not surprisingly, he was distracted by other things and failed.

The following year he entered the university where his girlfriend was.  And again failed because of lack of direction and motivation.

He decided he wasn’t college material.

He was only partially correct.  He wasn’t college material then.

He had no motivation or direction.

But this time he did.

He surprised himself over and over with his grades, his study habits, his writing skills.

And I beamed.  Because I knew he could do it.  To watch him prove that to himself is a joy I can’t really put words to.

He has a tendency to be humble.  To push attention off himself…even when I know he feels good about what he has accomplished.

(From what his mom tells me, he has always been a spotlight avoider.  I do not understand this behavior! Ha!)

I asked him what he wanted to do to celebrate.  He wanted nothing.

NOTHING.

Nothing???

I don’t do “nothing” when it comes to an achievement like this.

So because he doesn’t have a stage to walk across or a cap and gown to put on (I did offer one of mine to him to just wear around the house or maybe to the office.  He declined.  Such a weirdo.), I decided to have a little get-together.

Just our family.

Just some appetizers.

No gifts or banners or fanfare.

But he deserves to be recognized for all his hard work and accomplishments.

For the TWO associate degrees he earned in the past four years.

Cort? I am so proud of you. So SO proud.

cort

Yeah you, good-looking.

Way to go.

to you, from me

Birthdays are not a big deal to you.

You shake your head and smile as I fret and wring my hands over getting you the perfect thing.

“It’s fine, Babe. I just want to be home with YOU.”

I worry over money and struggle to truly separate your birthday from that other holiday that we all celebrate 15 days after your birthday.

I know how you feel about the “birthday SLASH christmas” gift.

I won’t ever give you one of those.

I know despite my efforts your birthday gets swept up by Christmas.  Especially now that we have kids.

It’s hard with money this year since both of us took cuts to our allowances.  It’s hard for me to do what I want.

My goal has always been to get a reaction out of you on your birthday.

You give the same reaction if you love something or if you are lukewarm on something or if you’re not a huge fan of something.

I want a reaction.

I don’t think I’ll get it this year.

But I want you to know that every single year…no  matter how much money I have to spend…I want to give you all of the things.

The shed for all your things.

The fence to keep out the stupid neighbor’s trash and kids.

A new snow blower.

A new truck.

And all those things on your wish list that could either be a tool or a tech geek thing.

I want you to have it all.

I want you to have the king-size bed and master bathroom that you have dreamed about having.

I want you to have a hot tub to soak in.

I want to give you your own home office…where you can close the door and play your music and do your thang.

I want to give you your dream job.  One where you can get your geek on and get paid for it.

Mostly I want to give you a rest from worrying about our budget and our house and our bills and all the things you take on for our family.

I know we don’t keep score, but if we did? I would want to give you something that would make you understand the impact of all you’ve given me.

You have made me laugh when I didn’t want to.

You made me beautiful when I felt wretched.

You swept me off my feet when I least expected it.

You brought music and dance and song to my life.

You bring me the kind of laughter that makes my stomach hurt and my eyes water.

You gave me the two most beautiful sons in the world.

You give me a hand to hold when I most need it.

You give the best hugs…and kisses.

You are not romantic, but you are sweet.  You are kind. You are helpful, and you are supportive.

You are my best friend.

Happy birthday.

xxoo

I hope I can always make you smile like this.

That Day I Got A Break

Last week Monday night I was feeling sorry for myself.

I was already stressed about getting my grades done, having parent/teacher conferences later in the week, and having absolutely no time. At all.

Cort is gone three nights a week:  Tuesday for league bowling and Wednesday & Thursday nights for class.

Monday night, he had also made plans to get a drink with his brother.  The plans had been made weeks ahead of time, I knew they were there, and I totally approved.  Cort’s brother is about to become a dad and since their own dad passed over seven years ago, he doesn’t have a father figure to chew the fat with.  Cort is painfully aware of this since he was in the same position three and a half years ago.  He wants to be there for his brother.

I totally get and support that.

But Monday was horrid. And busy. And stressful.

Cort left around 7pm and I was left with a cranky three year old and a teething baby.  Once I finally got Charlie down, Eddie was impossible.  He got up about a million times, was difficult, and there were many MANY tears {from both of us}.

When Cort finally got home just before 10pm, I was a wreck.

I knew in my head that everything was just what it was: busy.  Necessary, but busy.

But my irrational, anxiety-ridden voice up there kept piling on the self-pity.

I couldn’t focus and I was trying to get grades done.

A wonderfully wise friend {whom I had been texting my vents to for about an hour} encouraged me to talk with Cort that night, in person–not over email the next day when we were both busy with work–and get it all out.

So I did.

I told him that even though it made no sense and wasn’t rational, I was feeling trapped and burned out and just…blah.  That all my stress and all my worries were being made to feel even more massive because he was never around.  It was me and the boys three nights…and this week four.  And…and…Tuesdays he was out having FUN bowling. It wasn’t even class.  He got to drink beers with his brother while I played GO TO BED OR I WILL LOSE MY LAST MARBLE!

I told him sometimes I resented him.

I told him sometimes I get “needed” out and “touched” out.

I told him most days I want nothing more than to fall into bed after work because I am so tired and overwhelmed and that I am both glad for and horrified by having to keep plugging along for the two boys who do not care in the least that I am overworked.

And then I got quiet.

And he sat and didn’t say anything.

I looked at my hands.  My computer screen.  My phone.

He started doing homework.

So my Wonderful Friend and I had this convo via text:

Me: i said my piece to him and he isn’t responding. um.

WF: Huh. Is he sleeping?

WF: Like you said it in person or via text?

Me: Nopee. Just sitting here working on homework. Things now feel…awkward.

We went to bed with that awkward feeling.

I don’t ever remember doing that before.  It was…awkward.  And I did NOT love it.

The next day I got an email from Cort telling me that Saturday after he got our cars serviced bright and early, the rest of the day was mine.  He would stay home with the boys if I wanted to leave.  I could nap if I wanted to.

And he held true to this promise.

On Saturday morning I took a nap when he got home from car stuff, and later found that he left me a $20 on my dashboard for coffee treats at Starbucks.  I was able to set up shop for 2 hours with a venti pumpkin spice latte, my phone, and my laptop with my entire itunes catalog (which is unnecessarily extensive at over 40 days of music…and that is me handpicking stuff so that I don’t have our DAYS AND DAYS of Pearl Jam shows or the oddities that my wonderful husband collects from his equally wonderful best friend. I have 14,251 songs on my computer. Sheesh).

I got four posts written and and uncountable number of emails responded to.

When I got home, Eddie was just up from his nap and Cort took him to get groceries.  Charlie stayed sleeping so I got some laundry done and another post revised and submitted.

When the boys got home, I was able to take a leisurely shower and then put on real clothes and go see some girl friends for a couple hours.

And to end the night, I got some couch cuddles with my main squeeze.

I can’t even begin to tell you what a difference that day meant to my mental well-being.

Sunday I was happier and less anxiety-ridden about the weekend ending.

I started this week with a positive, rested mind and soul.

And more importantly, that one day to myself gave me more of a need to hug my little boys and to let myself be wrapped in my husband’s arms.

I KNOW that self-care is important.  I KNOW I need to set aside time to be alone and reboot.  I KNOW that Cort is not a mind-reader and needs me to ask.

Just ask.

And yet…I don’t.  I don’t want to look lazy or needy or annoying or as a burden.

So, as my psychiatrist said last week, I keep running this marathon at a sprint.

And I when I can’t keep up the pace, and I cramp up and collapse, then and only then do I ask for a break.

I can’t wait until disaster.  I can’t wait until I break.

I need to do this more often.

Thank you, Wonderful Friend (you know who you are), Cortney, and my healthcare professionals for pushing me to remember that out of all the people I take care of in my life, I can’t forget about myself.

Because without a healthy me, I can’t help anyone else.

my pretty new earrings that I got Saturday night at my friend’s house via R&L Design (click on pics to see her cutie shop)

coaster buddies…again

In an effort to write the story of Cort and me for our children, I’m trying to put up a weekly (or whenever) post telling a new chapter in our story. I have added a new tab on the menu called Cort + Kate  if you want to follow our journey as a couple.

All of our friends were going to Woodstock ’99.

Ok, not all of them, but enough.  Enough that we were jealous of the road trip, but not of the camping on an old Air Force base with no shade.

Although, damn.  The bands playing?  Fricking awesome set.

We would show them.  We would have our own road trip that weekend.

Just the four of us.

A couple’s weekend.

We decided to drive to the other side of Chicago and spend two nights near Six Flag.  We even bought the “twickets” so we could come and go as week like over the course of two days.

That weekend it was about 104 degrees.

In the shade.

The four of us piled into his Buick Regal.  Yes, he was a 20-year old driving an old man’s car.  A smooth old man’s car that was roomy for a four-person road trip.

As soon as we got to the Holiday Inn, we brought out things in and walked over to the amusement park.

We all road The Iron Dragon since the line was short, and the boys, for whatever reason, thought they should IMMEDIATELY get on the ride that spins in a circle at the speed of light and the bottom drops out while you are plastered to the wall, defying gravity.  And all logical reason.

Trisha and I opted out.

No way were we putting ourselves on a spinning ride in 100 degree weather after riding a roller coaster.

We were not dumb.

Our boyfriends?

Totally dumb.

In fact, I think her boyfriend, a Mr. Cortney Sluiter, may have turned green.

Neither walked straight.

And both announced it was time to leave the park for awhile.

Awesome.

On our walk back, we made a detour to the Ponderosa adjacent to the hotel.  We delighted in the air conditioning and ordered only waters.  Then we sat there.  For what seems now like it was hours.

The rest of the weekend is a blur of roller coasters and laughter.  Sweat and amusement park food.  Walking and waiting in lines.

At some point it was decided to get on the newest, biggest ride in the park: The Raging Bull.

I love roller coasters, but that one seemed maybe too big to me.  I told them I would maybe sit this one out and have a snack on a bench somewhere.

This is when the term “Coaster Vagina” was born.

As in “don’t be one.”

I was yelled at convinced by my fellow Coaster Buddies that it was unacceptable to go along to an amusement park as part of an even numbered group and punk out on a coaster.  It would leave someone buddy-less.

And the Raging Bull is a FOUR person ride, which would mean they would get stuck with either an empty seat (best case scenario) or someone would have to sit by a total stranger who could be a crazy.

I was told to get over myself and get on the damn ride.

So I did.

And then we rode it about 50 billion more times even though the wait was NEVER less than 90 minutes.

In the evenings, we showered and relaxed in our lovely air-conditioned hotel room and watched the fools on MTV at Woodstock ’99 getting hot, sunburned, dehydrated, and riotous.

Our road trip was totally better.

Plus Cort and Trisha and my then-boyfriend cured me of being a Coaster Vagina that weekend.

So there was that.

And I got to listen to Cort giggle like a 2nd grade girl when he was nervous on the big hills.

That did not escape endless hours of mockery.

Cort and I haven’t been on a roller coaster together since that day almost 13 years ago.

We should maybe change that.

my michigan adventure

Seventeen years ago I was a high school junior.

I was taking physics.  The class was all seniors except for me and two other junior girls.

Each May, Michigan Adventure–an amusement park here in West Michigan–has a “Physics Day”.

Each May, my teacher, Mr. Janssen, took the physics class to participate with other area schools, but my junior year, we got rained out.

May of my senior year rolled around.  Physics Day was during the seniors’ last week, and I got it in my head that I should be able to go.

Throughout my four years of high school, I had Mr. Janssen for three math classes and for physics.  We were tight.

(Ok, if you know Mr. Janssen, you are rolling on the floor laughing at that statement.  I simply do not know how to describe him other than and introverted math teacher with an incredibly dry sense of humor. Who stands in front of class tossing the chalk in the air saying, “ah, umm…well…” when he is answering questions because he is so much smarter than you are, dummy. But he would never say that.  And he smirks, but never all out smiles.  I loved that man.)

Anyway, because I loved Mr. Janssen, and for some reason I decided we were tight (which he found humorous.  shut up, he did), I went to him and begged requested that he get me out of class for the day and let me come along to Michigan Adventure with his physics class.

I totally expected him to say no.

I mean, it’s not like I would be doing the packet of physics problems…I wasn’t in the class.  It would be nothing but a super fun day off from school for me.

There was zero educational value in having me go.

Also I was absolutely math dumb.  I, to this day, do not know how I even passed physics.

But he said yes.

And this is when I realized I had no idea who was in the class or if I would even have fun.

It just so happened that about a day after he said yes, I had to go to his classroom for something for a teacher.  I walked in to what happened to be the hour he had his physics class–mostly juniors, but some seniors.

And ALL dudes.

Not one girl in the class.

What had I gotten myself into?

But I wasn’t going to back out of a free day to ride roller coasters instead of being in school.

So on Physics Day I showed up to the bus, climbed those black tread steps, and stood at the front surveying the possibilities.

Which of these lucky dudes was going to be my new best friend for the day?

As I made my way down the long bus aisle, I flashed a smile, gave the obligatory “dude nod” to a few of the senior guys, did the finger point at a couple fellas who had zero chance of having me sit down, and finally stopped next to a seat with a junior in it that I knew a little bit through mutual friends.

He smiled back and I said, “move over, Curly.  You’re my friend for the day.”

He shoved over to the window and I plopped down next to him.

Before we were even out of the parking lot, I broke the ice with the big question the answer to which would set the tone for the rest of our day: “So, do you have a girlfriend?”

“Sort of.”

“How do you ‘sort of’ have a girlfriend?”

“Well, she doesn’t go here.  She lives 45 minutes away.”

And from there we chatted for the entire hour drive to the amusement park, deemed ourselves “Coaster Buddies”, and made let his lab/project partner do all the work on the packet problems.

Curly was one of the nicest guys I have ever met.

We became super great friends very quickly.  I met his girlfriend, Trisha, and loved her too.

Fast-forward approximately 14 years.

New Year's Eve 2009: Ben & Trisha with pregnant-with-Eddie Me (don't worry that is non-alcoholic) &"Curly"

I’m so glad Mr. Janssen said yes to my going on the Physics Day field trip sixteen years ago.

 

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