What's next?

I'm sitting here watching the Pit Bulls and Paroles marathon and crying. Damn it. What am I supposed to do with my life? What is round two supposed to be? I have so much left to give, but what am I being called to do? Should I rescue more dogs? Morgan would love that. Should we become foster parents again? I definitely have the compassion to parent. Should I use love of crafts to create for those in need? I bought a new sewing machine, so could do that. Should I write the books that I've been thinking about since before Sara's wedding? Should I get into making dog treats? Would love to buy an RV and get involved in camping/travel. Agility with Morgan? How fun would that be! What is the direction I'm being called in? I just don't know.

Jim and I were talking today and I feel like 2011 is a year of discovery for me. I feel like I'm learning to face the changes in our lives. Today is the first time I've cried since Jayme went back to school. And the tears weren't out of loneliness as in the past. The tears were more about frustration in what's next and when will I find it.

I've sat here wondering what to write as so many thoughts are running through my mind. No clarity today other than I know I'm on the brink of something, just not sure what that something is.

Kiss it, Mommy

I remember a time when a kiss, a hug and a band-aid would send the girls back to whatever it was they were doing. Even the bigger ouchies that came from broken bones and surgeries could be made better with some TLC.

And now? Not even close. There isn't a band-aid big enough to ease the pain of a broken heart or the ache from choices that are made for all the right reasons, yet still seem off somehow.

Being Mom to two adult daughters is toughest, I think, when they are hurting. Whether that hurt is from love or the world or a personal choice or whatever, stepping back and waiting is so hard. As the mom to a young child, it was easy to jump in and fix it. That same desire is there now, but no longer appropriate. Now the role is one of support and guidance, not fixer.

All that being said, and as hard as it can be, there is a tremendous sense of pride when I see the girls rising up from the sorrow and moving on. It's then that I'm able to catch glimpses of a lifetime of mothering and how through the sorrow there is joy. As moms we wonder if we've done good by our kids. It's times like this when I can see that I have.

My girls are strong women. They are smart women. They are amazing beyond words. And while I miss my little girls, I am so proud of the women they have become. And gosh darn it, I had a part in that.

As I bring this post to a close, I have tears. Not sure why because they tend to come on their own and without warning, but they are there even with a smile on my face. I've done a good job. I was a good mom and will continue to be a good mom.

Hmmm ... I think  I just rearranged my nest a little. It feels good. :)

Finding my rhythm

Here I sit with the dog asleep across my leg and the house is eerily quiet. Some days, actually most days, I just find the TV annoying.

Dani told me that I was a good mom. For the most part, I think she's right. But knowing what to do with daughters that are finding their own way isn't always easy. Life beats on.

When there are kids in the house a home takes on a craziness that becomes the norm. Running from one activity to the next, making sure homework is done and accurate, mountains of laundry and dishes and meals and oh gosh, there just seems to be so much going on that the days flow at break-neck speed. It's a song that writes itself within the life of a vibrant family.

And now, there's silence. I can turn on the radio or the TV and Morgan can surely bark with the best of them, but that's noise. It's not the sounds of a family flowing through their days. That's what's missing. That's part of what's so hard to face.

I remember wishing for my own "5 Minutes Peace." This is a great book, by the way, for any mom with little ones. :)


I remember wishing I could just stitch all day. Or lounge around in my jammies. And now I can do that and so much more. It just doesn't seem to be fulfilling enough. Why? What's wrong with me that I long for the days when there was so much going on? When I would be so tired at the end of the day that the end of the day couldn't come fast enough? When I would tell the girls that while I had two ears I could only listen to one of them at a time. Just writing about it makes me smile. A home and family life with so much pumping through every room.

I find myself loving the direction my children have taken in their lives. Sara has an amazing husband and a wonderful career that fits her perfectly. Jayme is on her way at BU and doing so well. Isn't that what our job is? To prepare our children for their future? In that regard, I'm a great mom. I couldn't be more proud of my girls.

So why the heck do I get so sad? It's really frustrating.

As I told Dani, the drum still beats; I just have to find the rhythm.

Why am I here?

I've been thinking about writing this blog for about six months now. My nest has been "empty" for a year and half and the journey has been anything but easy. I've learned a ton and have so much more to go. It is my hope to post about the joys, the tears, the boys (I have two daughters) and the fears that go with being a mom whoose babies are all grown up.

If you stumble on this blog, I hope you'll hang out and join me in this journey. I've been told I'm a funny gal at times, other times I know I can ramble. Here you'll get me as I am ... at the moment. Raw and real. Perhaps we'll grow together in this journey of motherhood. Some days you may get strength from me and other days I hope to learn from you.

One of the things I've learned in my 18 months of rearranging this nest we call home is best said by the infamous Erma Bombeck --

When mothers talk about the depression of the empty nest, they're not mourning the passing of all those wet towels on the floor, or the music that numbs your teeth, or even the bottle of capless shampoo dribbling down the shower drain. They're upset because they've gone from supervisor of a child's life to a spectator. 

What an eye-opening thought and really captures so much. Erma was an amazing woman and her wisdom transcends her own life.

This blog is one of my New Year's resolutions. I feel like it will help me in my growth as a mom and woman. My nest isn't empty, it's just been rearranged. I have two adult daughters and a new son-in-law, plus a husband. Can't forget him. <grin>

Tomorrow's another day. This blogging journey has begun. I hope you're intrigued enough to come back and walk with me. I know I look forward to it.