It's Fall Ya'll!

Hey everyone!

Sorry! I've been M.I.A. for the last month. I needed to take some time to rest and give my current life perspective a tune up! We've had an, well, EVENTFUL September and now that I've taken some time to just LIVE life and enjoy those mundane moments, I'm back and rejuvenated!

So, today, I want to share what I have learned over the month of September...

Nothing in life is guaranteed. 
Nothing in life is absolutely guaranteed. You could be a good person. You could eat right, exercise and take your vitamins. You could do everything right, but, there is a strong chance that something will happen that will shake you right to your core.

Our dear friend, Patti, was recently diagnosed with Stage IV Hodgkin's Lymphoma. She is one of the most kind, funny and boisterous women I know. When my water broke with Brady, the first person I called was her (she wasn't home, but thankfully her hubby, Jeff, is equally awesome and he WAS home!). She's a "go-to" person; the person you want by your side when you need comfort. But, one uneventful day I received a call from her husband and he told us she found out she had cancer. The pit of my stomach just clenched up. While no one ever deserves cancer, she was not the person this should happen to. (To lend her a prayer and read about her journey, please visit her blog at http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/champatti411/mystory)

But, some times the most tragic circumstances bring about the most beautiful things. The amount of people who have come together to rally behind this beautiful woman is magical. It is really inspiring how much love has been shown for her. And, it is this love that makes me realize that I don't want those who I love to ever not FEEL that type of love every day from me.

I have decided that:

• I will NEVER go to sleep without telling my hubby and boys how much I love them
• I will NEVER let my boys drift to sleep without hearing me tell them something specific I was proud they accomplished that day and that I love them with all of my heart
• I will never let the mundane things get in the way of doing something genuine for someone else
• Things can be rescheduled...so if something fun comes up I want to do, reschedule the things that can be rescheduled so we can just have fun!
• Make someone else happy every day, even if it is a stranger. Everyone is experiencing their own struggles, so making someone's day may be a blessing for us both.

My husband is my rock
Things have definitely been trying on my marriage over the years. Not so trying that I have felt like my marriage was ever in danger, but it has definitely been hard. I have forced myself to take a step back and look at my interactions with my husband as if I were a bystander watching us. There are definitely times where I am not as kind as I should be. My patience wears thin and my worries have made me weary and tired. And, with that, my vows of commitment to honor my husband and all he does for us has made it to the bottom of a long list of priorities. This is something I should have never let happen.

I look at what this wonderful man does for his family...He is present for his boys. He provides a very comfortable life for his family. He makes sure to allow his wife respite from her motherly duties (oh, how dramatic that sounds!). He picks up clutter, fixes dinner, scoops dog poop, kisses boo-boos, puts up with Pinterest projects, says, "No, your butt doesn't look big in that" and does not ever complain that it is too much. He makes sure to give me credit for all that I do, which is invaluable to me and my self worth, which I've struggled with ever since I made the decision to be a stay-at-home-mom. What I have realized is that I do not sincerely honor him for all that he is. And, I SHOULD.

With this realization, I have committed to honoring him each and every day. Even if it is for the little things because it's the little things that really do matter. I'll keep you guys updated how I face this challenge this month because I don't want to ruin the surprises for him! 

My kids are my miracles
Every day brings their challenges, especially with kids. Uh, I should add, especially with a special needs kiddo. And, with those challenges, I have realized how frustrated I get with them and how much I let them KNOW it. I spend more time being frustrated than I do being encouraging and supportive.

And, I get it...the days are short and my list of things to do are long, so it's easy to become easily flustered and frustrated when they delay and fret over little things. But, really, they are little and they are supposed to make mistakes and be curious about EVERYTHING. I need to stop treating them as if they are TRYING to make my day difficult and stop to appreciate the moments that I'm able to teach them. Those moments when they want me to help them will eventually end and I need to seize the moment while it is here.

I promise my little ones that I will start making an effort to slow our days down and let the learning moments happen. I've been whining that they are growing up so fast, but really, I haven't taken the time to enjoy them like I should. I am going to join in on the wonder of learning new things and their vivacious curiosity. If only adults would take time to be amazed by the small things our children are fascinated by!  

So, in essence, I've realized that I've needed to slow down. I need a slower paced life. I need to enjoy my boys each day, not wishing for bed times to hurry up and for their cherub faces to be sleeping (and quiet). I need to be a better friend, a better mom and a better wife. I need to focus on taking care of today and stop worrying so much about tomorrow. I need to remind myself that nothing in life is guaranteed. I need to remind myself that I'll never get today back so don't wish it away!

10 Odd Facts About Moi

Hubby and I often laugh about our oddities. It makes for interesting conversation because often times, when I tell him something odd about myself, it floors him. Even after nearly 10 years together, we surprise each other!

So, I'm about to reveal 10 ODD things about me. Things you probably wouldn't have guessed in a million years.

1. I am afraid of popping balloons. AND the sound canned biscuits make when you open them. So afraid, that I will not blow up and tie a balloon. And, I close my eyes when opening canned biscuits. 

2. I am completely addicted to reality tv. If I am sick or feel like veggin' out completely, I will turn on a marathon of any reality show and watch. I've watched the one about rattlesnake wranglers, Buck Wild, Teen Mom, Guiliana and Bill to name a few. Right now, embarrassingly to admit, I am watching Total Diva. Yes, me, sensory bin and slightly crunchy mom watches TOTAL DIVA. (I'm totally covering my face as I admit that).

3. I look into people's showers when I use their bathroom. It's not like I care what's in there - but for some reason, I need to make SURE there is not an axe murderer or sociopath waiting for me to pop a squat before making me their next victim.

4. I cannot hold something if I'm laughing hard. My husband finds it hilarious to ask me to squeeze his finger if I am belly laughing. It's physically impossible for me to to do it. I would be toast if I had to hold onto a cliff while someone told a joke. I have to add this fact to my list of reasons never to rock climb, too.

5. I have a secret crush on Brody Jenner. Yes, from the Hills and Keeping Up With The Kardashians. AND Taylor Kinney. Yes, Lady GaGa's boyfriend. I have problems. I have a hall pass from hubby in case my seductive powers capture them and they can't refuse. I mean, look at them, can you blame me?

 

6. I love, love, love french fries. I'd rather eat french fries than a fancy meal any day. I love them with ketchup, ranch or bleu cheese dressing. I often convince my kids that we are getting fries as a treat for them, but REALLY it's for me. 

7. I consume myself with some pretty serious stuff during the day like autism, parenting, finance, education stuff. So, to cleanse my palette, I often read PerezHilton.com and Dlisted.com before I go to sleep. It's my after dark secret!

8. I am both fascinated and deathly afraid of snakes. I often devise a plan of escape for several different scenarios of encountering rattlesnakes. I know EXACTLY what I'd do if I saw one in my kitchen, in my yard, in my garage or even in my driveway. I spend way too much time thinking about it. I am both repulsed and intrigued at the thought of them.

9. My dream car is toss up between a Chevrolet Suburban and a Masarati Quattroporte. Wonder which one I have a better chance of getting in this lifetime?

 

10. I don't know how to iron clothes to save my life and choose my clothing accordingly. 

That's not me, but if you added about 15 lbs., flip flops, flabbier thighs and a hyper child tugging at my leg, it COULD be me. Just sayin'.

So that's my oddity package in a nutshell. Hope you are enjoying your week!

Why I Rarely Feel Sympathy

Do you guys like rambling non-sensical posts? Oh, good! I do, too ;0)

I am going to put this out there...I rarely feel sorry for people. That may come as a shocker to some, but I want to open the discussion on why, even in the saddest and lowest points of my friends' lives, I will not feel sympathy FOR them.

People always comment, "I don't know how you do it". But, I rarely take that as a compliment because for me, I know no other way but to be resilient. That's not a pat on my back, by any means. But, I think that what keeps me sane, is that I keep telling myself that no matter how rough or sucky it gets, there's always a way out and that way out really is up to me. I may ask for help. I may ask for lonely solace or laughing fits with a friend who knows that my coping mechanism is denial disguised as self deprecating  comedy. But, I never allow myself to feel helpless for long. Thankfully, neither do my friends. And, believe me, my friends have done a great job helping me feel empowered exactly when I need their help. Kudos to awesome friends - you know who you are! I think one of the best decisions I have made in life is to surround myself with people who keep me up, not down.

Okay, back to my explanation. I'll set the scene for an example to further explain my point...
My friend is having a really, really hard time adjusting to a new baby. Sleepless nights, poopy diapers, regressing siblings, flabby tummy, spit up on everything, dirty hair and insurmountable demands are growing...but, I do not feel sympathy for her. Say what?! Bad friend alert! Bad friend alert!

Do I feel her pain? Heck Yes, I do. But, will she survive it? Yes, I'm confident she will. Will I help her? Heck yes, again, heck yes I will. I will bring her dinner, I will listen quietly as she talks about how sucky it is. BUT, I will reassure her that it will get better and maybe help her get a plan together so she can get some sleep or alone time. Because, regardless if I've felt the same feelings, I do not feel sympathy or sorry for her. I feel empathy. Let's discuss the difference...

Let me get all preachy teacher for a sec so we are all on the same page with the difference between sympathy and empathy. Hang in there...
Sympathy and Empathy could be these few examples:

• You feel great empathy with those who are poor, so you volunteer at a non-profit to help them
• Your friend's mother passed away so you send your sympathies for her loss
• Listening to your friend about her struggles being a parent of a micro-preemie gives you greater empathy towards her and you decide to help watch her other child while she visits the NICU
• A great tragedy occurred in your hometown so you send a letter of sympathy to the victims
• You feel emphatic to your friends pain when she is going through a messy divorce and take her out for a drink to lift her spirits

In other words, you seek to identify with someone you are empathic towards. Not feel sorry for them. Feeling sorry implies you pity them. See, with empathy, there's no pity or grieving involved.

When I see a friend struggling, I do not feel sorry for her. I feel sorry that she has to experience pain, but I do not feel sorry FOR her. I know that she is strong enough to find her way. I feel the need to help her out of her low point. How does one do this without feeding into this pity party? EASY. You give encouragement. You lend a hand. You hold their hand and help them up. You listen, but you don't let them wallow in the "woe is me" stage. You help them find their way up that steep hill. But, you don't drag them up. If you are giving sympathy to them at the bottom of the hill, you are really just waiting with them at the bottom of that hill they are facing. Help a friend in a bind by REFUSING to give sympathy, but offer a helping hand. Because feeling sorry doesn't help. It never will. Empathy leads to helping.

So, if you are feeling low, don't ask for sympathy. Ask for help. Don't complain, ask for help gaining clarity, creating a clear plan. Yes, venting is something we all do. But, venting quickly turns into endless complaining. Complaining keeps you in the quick sand. Until you stop the complaining, funny or not, you'll never move forward.

This has been a struggle for me. Oh, it is one of my daily internal battles. Most days I have to tell myself, "Suck it up, buttercup". I'm not lying. I literally have to tell myself that almost EVERY DAY, and several times at that. I refuse to allow myself a pity party because for me, it would be easy to do. Cake and ice cream included, because it is a party after all. But, for me, allowing myself to REMAIN in that frame of mind only exacerbates the problems. It's a slippery slope to climb. It starts with self pity, followed by envy, followed by solicitations for sympathy, followed by self pity, which all leads to helplessness and falling faster into the quick-sand of life. "Suck it up, buttercup. Make a plan, keep moving forward".

So, if you have a friend who seems to always bounce back and you find yourself saying, "I wonder how she does it?", know that this is probably her secret weapon to keeping herself resilient. She probably doesn't give much sympathy out either. Getting to this point was a game changer for me. Will it be for you?

Whew...Made It Through This Week

WARNING: I try not to get all sappy and boo-hoo too many times in a short amount of time, but I'm just going to get it all out. 

All I can say is, "Goodness, I'm glad this week is OVAH". It's been a pretty tolling week for me. Well, let me rephrase this, it's been hard for my entire family. Brady started Kinder on Wednesday and a program called Brain Highways last Sunday. Both have been mentally, physically and emotionally demanding.

Our schedules are all haywire. To top off my nervous martini, Brady is now riding the bus home. I wait in my driveway with knots in my belly awaiting his return in the afternoons.

He has therapy until dinner. He asks me for a blanket, curls up on the couch reminding himself, "Brady don't fall asleep" waiting for bath time. He's exhausted. I'm exhausted. Brady feels it. I feel it. My hubby feels it. Wes definitely feels it, too. It's definitely been a doozy of a week.

By Friday we finally started to resume our groove. It was on Friday during my walk back to the car from dropping my sweetest lil' Brady off at school that I noticed Wes was wearing the OUTFIT - the one Brady was wearing the day he was diagnosed. The orange polo and blue plaid shorts. It made my heart ache to look at how little and innocent Wes is and recall that Brady was once that age. He was Wes' age when we had our lives shaken to the core. A-U-T-I-S-M. Like an earthquake, things never quite settled back to how they were before. It wasn't until I looked at the calendar today and realized that it has been EXACTLY 2 years since Brady wore that cute as a button outfit to that fateful doctor's appointment and I cried the ENTIRE way home. That's a lot of crying for someone who hardly EVER cries. I couldn't even speak to my friends. I was utterly crushed, deflated and devastated. I have never experienced debilitating hopelessness quite like that dark period of my life. It's emotional to even remember those days.

I would be lying if I said that I wasn't slightly melancholy that day and perhaps all this weekend. I feel a pang of envy again, just like I did that day two years ago. Why him? Why us? What did I do to deserve this? Why was this happening to him? Why? Why? WHY? The only difference is that back THEN, the pain was debilitating. DEBILITATING. Now, I can reflect and know it isn't happening TO US, it just happens. Crap happens (Well, you know the REAL saying. Just keeping it PG, folks).

But, then I remind myself of all of the beautiful things that have happened BECAUSE of it. Stay with me people. It's going to get all huggy rainbow unicorns up in here. But, I speak my truth. I look at who I was pre-diagnosis. I'm much more proud of the person I am NOW.

I used to be some what self-absorbed and quite judgmental. I admit it. I judged and I judged a lot. Do I now? Sure, I think a little bit of judgment is just innately human. But, do I judge like I used to? NO. I have a lot more empathy for people these days. We are all struggling. Maybe not the same way and perhaps some are more apt at coping with their own struggles than others. I am definitely more capable of living with our struggles than I was two short years ago.

I know that life is not easy, but I do know that I have so much to be thankful for. SO MUCH. I live a fairly comfortable life. I really have no complaints. And, if I do, I try not to air them out too much (i.e. FACEBOOK) because that's just asking for sympathy and sympathy is not progress or helpful. I turn to my friends to get me grounded and back on my feet.

I feel much more connected with my husband. I think we were just kind of living the good life before our son was diagnosed. I think that it was a serious slap in the face that not only was life NOT easy, but really forced us to define who we really were and what are convictions were. I think before I was pretty convictionless (did I just create a new word? I think so). Now, I am pretty steadfast in what is important to me and what I will stand up and fight for. On the flip side of that same coin, I also know what is just not worth my time.

I think I'm also quite a better parent than I would have been without my son's diagnosis. Did I have any idea what the hell sensory play was or how important some of those development milestones were to my child's future? Um, no. I think I spent MORE time deciding what my son should wear, what diaper bag I'd carry and maybe if I should buy Pampers or Huggies. Seriously, if Brady was content (and he was extremely content), then I was doing a GA-REAT job. But, now that I know just how to be a better parent, I AM A BETTER PARENT. Not part-time, but ALL THE TIME. All who know me understand just how entirely I am committed to my kids. We are a pretty damn strong family unit.

I have found some of the very best friends to include in my support system. These friends include my virtual ones! I probably would have NEVER crossed paths with some of these people if my son hadn't received his diagnosis. Don't get me wrong - I'm never trying to FIX my son, but I try and HELP him achieve the very best and ensure he has the absolute brightest future. So, when I say I probably wouldn't have crossed paths with these fabulous friends, I wouldn't have if I wasn't searching out all of these resources. But, what has resulted is this beautiful web of confidants that I rely on for not only information, but emotional elevations in ways most people could not provide unless you walked the same path.

I know that Wes will be a better person for it. He knows nothing other than acceptance and kindness. He will only know compassion and understanding. He doesn't see that Brady is different and he idolizes him in ways a little brother should. He won't have the TYPICAL sibling bond, but perhaps it'll be stronger because we all fight for Brady and cheer him on. His goals are ours and we work WITH and along side him, which has made us all stronger.

I feel much more clear on where my life is headed and feel in possession of a very concrete purpose. Clarity is such a gift. I'm a helper and I've tried to help anyone who needs it. I don't need to be a leader. I don't need to be the planner. I don't need to be the coordinator. I just want to help, which some times is the more important role. If you need information that I have? You go it! Need advice I can lend? You go it! Need a book I have? You go it! Need to know it will all be okay? You go it! I now know I am a helper in every capacity of my life. And, I'm happy with that role.

Is having a child with Autism fun? Um, no. Let me repeat, it is not. Not at all. Is it challenging? Did it affect my marriage? Yes, in fact it sucked really bad at times (the challenges, not my marriage). But, it is also rewarding in ways that you could not even imagine. To have your autistic child accomplish something that you thought he'd never do is something like experiencing a miracle. Ever witness someone throw a dance party because their kid tried a new food? Call your husband in the middle of the store because he answered a question spontaneously!? Welcome to Autismland, where parties are ragers and wine flows! To have your child do something you were told probably wouldn't or couldn't happen is great. Especially when you can stick your tongue out and tell someone to suck it. Well, that last part may all occur in my head, but it's pretty gratifying even if it's just fantasy.

People...what I do know for sure is that I'm going to have sucky weeks like this last one. But, doesn't everyone? That's life. I'm just so thankful for all of the things that are so great, knowing that some times it's going to be a little rough and uncomfortable. Well, I may be wrong, but heck, that's what gets me through the rough patches ;0) So, people, listen here, because this is quite important...if you have a sucky week, try to put your life in perspective. The things that are challenging are not fun, but don't lose your shizz over it. These same challenging circumstances may be making you the BETTER person you want to be. Just breathe. Or drink wine. Works for me!

Brady is Now a Kinder

School starts for Brady on Wednesday (I know! A WEDNESDAY, say what!?). And, the start of this school year has brought on a wave of intense anxiety for me. YES, for ME! (Hear the violins???) See, the start of school year is a very stressful thought for most ASD moms. Sure, all moms experience a little stress when their kidlets go off into school for the first time. But, let me explain to you a little more why I am sort of terrified about it.

First of all, if you don't know, Brady has Autism. You wouldn't know it if you saw us passing you. It's not something that he physically exhibits (well, most of the time, at least). And, he LOVES school. I am not terrified he will have a bad time there. I'm certain he will enjoy it and he will fall in love with his teacher. And, like everyone else, they will fall in love with him.

What I am most terrified of is that now he will be facing all those big kids. This isn't preschool anymore. All of those big kids that will probably make some comment about Special Ed (he's beginning the mainstreaming process this year) and God forbid, use the "R" word. I know, I KNOW with a certainty that they will not know the hurt they will cause by doing this. I know, because I was once a kid their age. But, luckily, Brady will probably not care one bit at this time. But, I WILL. I have yet to experience it, but I know it will not be easy. It's dreadful thinking about it. The last thing I want to do is be the mom who unleashed her wrath on a grade school child. Serenity now....

I know that one day Brady will be hurt by being excluded. That he will yearn to be "normal" and not know why he is different. He will wonder why he has extra work, therapy and all the things that "normal" kids don't have to endure. I will have to answer those questions one day. I'm glad I have some time to think it over a bit.

But, what brings on the worst anxiety is facing all the moms. YES! THE MOMS! The moms who just don't understand why I don't have time to do things like afterschool activities and volunteering. Why we can't just "skip" a day of therapy. Why we can't just be like them. It's because we are not. NOTHING like them. After school, Brady has therapy until dinner. UNTIL DINNER five days a week, people! He gets home from school and immediately has therapy. And, that's just ABA therapy. And, trust me, other moms will think it's a little over the top. "Why don't you just have LESS therapy?" Why? Because I want the best for my child and therapy is part of it. We don't do therapy because it's fun.

I will probably get the pity nod as I have to deal with a tantrum, because I'm sure it will happen eventually. But, really, I've been dealing with tantrums for a while, so they don't faze me. I'm sure I'll get a few, "Oh my! He's certainly vocal" comments here and there. Maybe I'll have to explain he has Autism. Maybe I won't. Depends on how tired and cranky I am.

But, what will be tough is dealing with the judgment. Judgment from those who have never walked my path. Judging my decisions, my actions, the tone and perhaps the fact that I will ignore some behaviors. Judging the amount of (or perceived lack of) discipline I have for my kids. I'll probably have to endure the torturous "Have you tried" suggestions. I'll answer probably seven billion times whether I think vaccines caused it, whether we are gluten free, is he like Rain Man, or "Have you heard of Temple Grandin". I'll annoyingly watch people talk to my son as if he is incapable of comprehending what they are saying (and just for the record, he DOES UNDERSTAND and you don't have to speak S-L-O-W). Just thinking about it kind of makes me physically and mentally tired.

I will be up at night thinking of what any new behavior means. I will wonder if services will be cut and if they aren't if he will be getting the appropriate level of services he needs. I will pray each day that his good spell of sleeping will not be disrupted by the stresses of not only a new school but a longer school day. I will wonder if his aides are nice to him, if he is scared or perhaps if all my worrying is for nothing. I will be conflicted with the amount of demands placed on him - for he is only 5. I will ponder if I'm doing the right thing, if I'm acting the right way, if I'm too hard or too lenient.

I know I bring a lot of this anxiety on myself. It's needless worrying for the most part. But, nonetheless, I worry. So, when you see me and pass judgment, remember, YOU, the mom giving me the judgmental glance (because we can all tell), are the LAST thing I need to worry about. But, for some damn reason, I spend time worrying about you. URGH!

Rather than side eye me, try this. Give me a smile. Give me some room. I want to be like you, but I can't. My circumstances don't allow it. I'm not bitter and I am over trying. Don't give me the guilt trip for not helping out at the damn bake sale. Don't think I'm lazy for not selling your magazines or participate in the next fundraiser. Don't think I'm being rude if I cut you off. It's probably because I can tell that my son is about to lose it because he has his head set on getting a sprinkled donut like I promised him and is growing impatient with my petty conversation. Don't get mad if I took up soooo much of the teacher/principal/fill-in-the-blank's time because of my kid's "issues". What you can do is understand that I don't want to be rude, pushy, flippant, whatever you think I am. I don't want to be on a perpetual soap box educating everyone about my son's Autism. It's not what I want to do. I just don't have the energy.

Know that I don't need your sympathy. My life is not horrible. It's far from it. We are happy and we DO have fun. Just not with you. Ha! Ha! I just had to put that in there.

Hey you other moms, what you can do is not tolerate your child demeaning another child for their disabilities. You can refuse to allow your child to treat another child - special ed or not - any differently than they would want to be treated. You can do this by doing it and modeling it for your kids. Your kids are a big mirror of yourself.

What I DO WANT is for my son to have the same experiences and memories of school as your child. I don't want to have to deal with the MOMS. So, with that, what you can do is just be nice. That's all - just be NICE. Simple as that. Oh, and don't take my parking space. I may just flip out.

So, THAT, my friends - that, in a large, long-winded nutshell, is why the start of school is stressful for me. WISH ME LUCK!

Guest Post by Mai Weston, Friend Extraordinnaire

I am so fortunate to have such wonderful friends. My husband jokes that I would make a friend in the line at the post office and that is completely true. My jibber jack mouth has gained me friends from all walks of life, with vastly different cultures, ethnicities and hailing from all areas of the world. I love the perspectives that these friends have always shared with me and feel that each person has helped me grow into the person I am (and will be).

And, the one thing that I always love about my friends is that no matter how much time has past, we can pretty much pick up where we left off. I have one phenomenal friend, Mai, whose friendship is just like that. With our busy lives we don't get to see each other as often as I would like, but when we do see each other, we are laughing just like we did when we were in high school. 

Mai is married and has a super cute family. She's one bad mother fu, wait, mother of two small children; little boy M, who is going to five shortly and little Miss L, who just turned one.  She's also a master multi-tasker who works, cares for her family all while staying super cool and fashion forward. I'm hoping we will hear from her on a variety of topics in the future!

Today she's writing about Bambi...sort of. Okay, it's about death. It's a topic we all deal with and will have to confront as moms. Mai was gracious enough to share her perspective on it. While no one will have the best way to deal with it and it is so different for everyone, I feel it's really important that we are honest about it with our kids. And, some times just recognizing that our kids are smart enough to ponder the thought of their own mortality is a shocker to us. And, often times, just admitting and accepting that we are freaked out about our own mortality is a hard pill to swallow. 

So, without further chit chat from me...here is Mrs. Mother Extraordinnaire - Mai!

Thanks a Lot, Bambi.

My father warned me. “Don’t let him watch Bambi” he said. My four year old son had been warned that Bambi’s mother dies, but he still he begged me to watch it. Eventually I gave in. After all, it’s a Disney movie. What could go wrong?

Let me back up for a second. My husband’s grandmother died about 6 months ago. This was our son’s first real experience with death.  He seemed fine.  He understood it, he grieved in his own small way, we moved on with our lives. Sometimes he would tell me he missed her. I said I missed her too. It was fine.

And then…Bambi. The first 24 hours were fine. I even called my father and pooh-poohed his caution. And then it sunk in. People die. I’m going to die, he’s going to die, and we are all going to die. There were tears. There was heartbreak. It lasted for a couple days and it was awful.

If I was religious person, there would have been a prescribed way for me to handle this moment.  He’s familiar with the concept of heaven and angels, so that route was available. But whether or not you believe there is an afterlife, the raw facts of death are still the same. And I knew it was my responsibility to deliver that information.  So, I sucked in my breath and put it all on the table – Yes, we will all die.  Hopefully it won’t happen to anyone we love for a very long time. It will happen to you.  And yes, it’s very, very sad.

Sometimes when I see him looking contemplative, I know he’s thinking about death. He tells me “Oh, I was just thinking about dying”.  Recently, he’s really wanted to know about the logistics of death. When do we die? How old will I be when I die? What happens to people’s bodies when they die? My older brother died when I was 12. My son wants to visit the beach where we sprinkled his ashes. It makes me happy that he wants to do that. And it makes me sad.

I’ve been anxious about my own death for as long as I can remember. Mercifully, having children has significantly lessened that anxiety. My life is so full of love and joy, that it doesn’t seem fair to ask for immortality.  Or maybe it’s that motherhood has made me less interested in myself.  Either way, I hope by the time he is my age, the fear will have quieted itself.

Death is my son’s new bedfellow. He’s learning to live with it. He pushes it back to into a dark corner when he needs a respite. I tell myself this is all healthy and normal. It was going to happen eventually. It happens to every person at some point in their life. But frankly, it still makes me a little sad.

- Mai Weston

And, because the topic is a heavy one today, I thought I'd dig up an old photo of Mai and I from high school. Just for poops and giggles.

I HAD to post a photo from high school. I just had to.

Left, Mai; Middle, our friend Delilah; Right, Moi