When They Hurt, I Hurt

I have four beautiful daughters. One is my blood, two are step, and one is grand.

All my Girls - 2018

There is something to be said about being a mother and having children. All the sudden your heart is walking outside your body. You will do anything to protect them – from heartbreak, disappointment, loss, fear, and confusion. This need to cover them from darkness is so fierce it’s hard.

So hard to let them go and watch them understand the ways of the world – some of the worst ways. The super hard ways. How people will disappoint them. Friends will turn on them. Troubles will come and go. When there are rights and wrongs, there is indifference too. Some whys we will never understand.

Your heart explodes because they are learning the way you learned. The hard way. The harsh way. The people will let you down way.

And I still want to fight for them. So what if the world can be cruel. I am still on their side. I will fight when they are hurt. When they hurt, I hurt.

My bonus girls are now 12 and 14.

Sisters - 2018

I know. I know. Just yesterday they were 2 and 4. So wittle. So chubby. So very magical. And now they are dang near grown. No more chub chub cheeks or a thousand questions. But still my kids. So you know what I mean when I say I don’t want them to hurt. This is the age when the hard truth of adulthood starts to slap them around a bit. Junior High and High School? Talk about waking up from being an innocent kid. Those are the years!

And this December was another harsh jar to their childhood. Their mother disappeared for 30 days. She did not tell the girls much. She only talked to my husband. I heard her say, “It sucks. It’s bad timing.” But that’s it. No I am sorry. No forgive me. No explanation to the girls other than she was in the “hospital”. She wasn’t. We knew that from reverse number look up. But no way to tell the girls about that. It’s not our place especially since we were not even supposed to know. But it is what it is.

Except
.. this hurt my children. My bonus babes. My sweet, loving girls. To have their mother vanish. During Christmas and New Year’s no less.

Now don’t get me wrong. My husband and I loved it. We got to have an unexpected month long visit. Our whole family together and during the holidays! So this was fantastic for us.

But….what about the girls? Young girls that need their Mom. Yeah, Dad is great. Stepmom is nice. But your mom is your MOM. And I know exactly what it’s like to have her gone. It hurts. When they hurt, I hurt.

December was joyful. December was awful. I felt more sick for the girls as each day passed (even into January). I still have pains for them. But I know they are young and they heal quick. She is back and all is the way it was before (I guess).

She hasn’t really talked to us about it. She came back and that was it. I guess I am having a harder time getting over it than they are. I don’t need to know all the gritty details. I don’t even want to know. I just want to hear an I’m Sorry.

I’m sorry I hurt my children. I am sorry I had to do what I had to do. I am sorry I can’t open up about it. I am sorry I have to treat you like strangers.

And what about Thank you? Thank you for keeping the girls. Thank you for caring for them when I couldn’t. Thank for being there at Christmas. Thank your for holding them while they cried on New Years Day for their mother.

I know. I am asking too much. Demanding too much. I have no right.

But someone has to stand for these children. Someone has to fight.

I will always be there for my family. For my kids. For my husband.
The Family 2018

I can’t be sorry for that……and I won’t. Because this isn’t about me or how I want someone to act. This is about two precious girls who shouldn’t have to feel abandoned.

Happy Hallows Eve From the Pumpkin Farm

First off, I have signed up for this…
NaBloPoMo November 2014

Yes, really. It is time to write my heart out! Or at least share more photos. Like the ones from last weekend when we went to the pumpkin farm. And apparently, everyone else went to the pumpkin farm. And OHMYGOLLYWALLY so….many….people!

I wanted to rip my eyeballs out. A big part of me is very introverted and not a fan of crowds. I have to find a “real” pumpkin farm next year. One that is out in the country with lots of open space.

And the light? OHMYGOLLY The harsh rising sun light is just brutal to deal with. We had tiny slivers of shade that I could put a body in. So tiny.

But I did the best I could. I got lucky because the day Sydney and Baby Averey planned an outing with me is the same day the girl’s Mom was taking them. What an incredibly lucky break to have them all there together.

Here is a shot from the weekend before when Molly got her face painted scary.

© 2014 Angelia's Photography

Yikes!

Her stone look is chilling, right?

This last weekend was the farm and this was Averey’s first visit. She had so much fun, especially, when the girls showed up.

We found a baby pumpkin just her size.

My first year to get Mom and Baby together in the pumpkins.

My pumpkins!

I did a few photos of the girls too. They are growing so fast. My goodness, they will be teens soon. Where has the time gone?

We didn’t get photos on the tractor, but I have to tell you. It was near 90 degrees and the sun was beating down. Not to mention a billion people trying to take pictures, corral kids, and maybe buy a pumpkin.

So….yeah. Maybe next year I will have find a new venue.

Wishing you all have a very HAPPY and SAFE Halloween!

© 2014 Angelia's Photography

Breaking Nine

Backpacks gather. Shoes find the right feet. Dogs go into their crates and in all the rustle, bustle of preparing to leave Thursday night, I hear her Dad call out, “Can I hug nine-year-old Molly for the last time?”

She sheepishly grins and wraps her arms around him squeezing tight. I turn from my office chair and say just as loud, “Ohhhhh, I want to hug a nine-year-old Molly for the last time, too!” She smiles and opens her arms to me.

I hug her hard and I try to remember every single thing about her, right then, right in this very moment. I close my eyes and concentrate. Did six years really just flash by in a blink?

She is heading home to her Mom’s house for the weekend, and the next time I see her, she will break nine at ten-years old. Ten!

The tiny tot of four who I met all those years ago? She doesn’t miss a step as she leaps into her double digits. She does it and she does it with all the grace and muster of a grown-up, and all the soft, gentle sweetness of a child.

I can’t believe it.

It really doesn’t seem that long ago…

Molly at four years of age.
Molly at four years of age.

It’s bad enough I watched one little girl grow up too fast. Do I really have to watch another? And really, two more? What was I thinking? This is not cool. Not cool at all.

Dear Life….slow down!

::Sigh::

I put together some photos through the years. Mostly because, I like to cry like to see how fast they grow. Maybe it’s my proof that this all really happened, and I watched it happen.

Six years of it. Right before my very eyes.

I can’t imagine the next six.

But I guess I have to try. It’s happening…whether I like it, or not.

Molly - Easter 2014 - almost 10.
Molly – Easter 2014 – almost 10.

Happy Birthday to the biggest, brightest ten-year-old I know. You broke nine. Let’s see what you can do with ten.

The Amazing Way Life Changes

I’m sure you can guess what is at the top of my Thankful list. The very top of a very long list (more on that below). I am thrilled to have so much to be thankful for this year. And being surrounded by the love of family. Many included as family are part of extended families and ex-families and almost families.

And that is not weird to me at all.

I grew up loving a Grandma that was not related to me by blood …I never knew until I fully grasped family trees….and she wasn’t on my branch or even my tree.

I had no clue.

She never acted like she wasn’t my Grandma. And you know what? She was. She was my Grandma. Blood relation or not. That is who I called Grandma and always will. I think of her most at this time of year. As children we made the trek from Oklahoma to Colorado to visit her every Thanksgiving. Most times it took the entire day to get there. She would cook and serve the big feast, then send us packing up the mountain to ski Monarch the next day. That was her Christmas present to us, always the same, a day together of snow, ski, and fun paid for by Grandma.

I will always treasure those Thanksgivings. I wrote about it on this blog in December of 2009 Timeless Treasures. She is my most special Grandma (that wasn’t my Grandma) who made our holidays joyful and bright. And she is who I look up to as a role model. Now that I am a grandma, I hope I can live up to her highest of standards.

I appreciate her these days more than I ever have. I hope I can give as much as my heart to my grandchildren as she did.

My most precious gift this year is my very own grandchild. She is growing so fast. Faster than I ever thought possible. I had no idea how much love a grandmothers soul could hold.

Oh man, is it a lot!

This little angel just turned three months old.

Three months in the blink of an eye. She now recognizes my face and voice. She smiles instantly when she sees me. She stares at me with those grey/blue eyes full of curiosity.

We talk and play and take lots and lots of pictures. She started cooing recently. It is not like the coo I have heard other babies say. Hers is like a musical note. It is so pretty! I swear it is not ooooo. This coo is like a note Snow White sings in the forest to all the wild animals that flock to her side. This music she strains to do by pursing her mouth just so and looking around with her big eyes (like…did I just do that?). Then, she smiles real big and kicks her legs because she knows she just did and it was awesome.

I wonder if she has inherited my mother and father’s musical talent. My mom toured singing Sound of Music as a teenager. She, also, won the crown of Miss Ada (the same Ada Blake Shelton is from). Her talent? Singing. My Dad toured with a 60’s garage band, they were invited to open for the Beach Boys. Musical talent gone wild in that pairing.

I didn’t get a smidge of musical talent. Sydney might have got just that, a smidge. But Averey. Wow. Looks like she may have got the full dose. I guess time will tell if she can carry a tune as a well as a coo. But dang if she isn’t cute doing it.

Three months.

© 2013 Angelia's PhotographyNewborn Averey

I am so thankful.

© 2013 Angelia's PhotographyNewborn Averey

To have this squishy little person as my musical serenader.

Life.

The way it changes?

Amazing…

Happy, HAPPY Thanksgiving to each and every one. May you be blessed beyond measure and treasured beyond time. And be so completely enamored by the life and love of a wonderful family (blood relations or not).

And thank-you for most for being part of my journey.