Pink Giraffe Musing

March. March used to be one of my favorite months. It was the gateway into the spring birthday season, David on the first, Sarah on the 23rd (my sister on the 4th), my stepdaughter in April, and Michael on May first. Two months happily dotted with all the birthdays in our house, except mine. Celebrations. Balloons. Joy. Now it is a roller coaster of emotions. It starts about the time I see the shamrocks in stores. I almost recoil. It is then that start to notice the static in the background. The extra tenderness. I cry more readily. Things just seem a little harder. I know it's coming. The best way I can describe it is like I have a program running in the background that I didn't mean to open. But, it won't close. My computer won't work right. It's sluggish. Except it is me. I won't work right.  I try not to think. Sometimes I don't. Still, the static is there. The easy tears. It is still coming. I still feel it.  It is just a day I tell myself. A crappy day

My husband died at a bad time.  I mean, is there a good time?  No, clearly there isn't.  We had little kids, we were just getting on our feet again after his long unemployment, I didn't have a real job, we had exactly enough money in the bank to pay the mortgage once, and no life insurance.  It was a dismal financial picture.  In the weeks after his death, I set out to get a job.  ASAP.  Those were scary days.  I was determined.  I was focused. I had a purpose. I applied, wrote essays, dusted off my 10-year-old resume, and hoped for the best.  There were so many major decisions to make. And post-loss is not the best time for decision-making.  Your brain just doesn't work right.  I had to decide so many things anyway. Sell the house and move to Ohio with my family?  Uproot the kids?  Get a better-paying job in a union state?  Or stay here where I know they will be well-loved, with the support of friends and neighbors - my village?  I applied both places, and let the j

I work hard to be a positive person. I consciously look for the good in everyday, even if it something as small as a drawing from a student, or having leftovers and not having to cook that night (can I get an Amen!).  I am all about choosing joy and having an attitude of gratitude.  I have been know to keep a gratitude journal when things are tough because I don't ever want to forget that I am blessed. But sometimes......sometimes I just can't.  Sometimes it all just seems of unfair, and unjust.  I work hard.  I try hard.  I am nice.  I care about people.  I give my all.   And yet, my life is just not fair.  Being a good person doesn't mean you get an easy life.  Or a nice life.  Living through life altering change doesn't mean that things will go smoothly from here on out.  But for me, it means when things I don't ask for happen to me I don't take it well.  I really don't like when things beyond my control negatively impact my life.  I mean, who do

I don't like calling death anniversaries "angelversaries", but lots of people do.  Whatever you call it, this Sunday will be 7 years for us.  It's unfathomable really.  7 years.  And just last week I was thinking I needed to tell him something.  Yes.  Crazy, I know.  It only happens when I am super tired and get lost in my head.  It's like I forget somewhere on some level inside my brain.  It's not uncommon.  A friend's mom has been widowed since I was in college, and she says it still happens to her. Grief is different for everyone and from what I can tell it is different every year. Despite my best efforts, I have not mastered it by any measure.  One of the hardest things for me is not knowing what my kids need.  I want to be there if they need me.  I don't want to smother them if they don't.  I don't want to make them think they should feel any kind of way.  It's a fine line.  I just wish it could go by like any other day and we cou

Life is busy.  Hectic.  We are all going at a frantic pace, trying to raise kids, do our jobs, run to 18 sporting events each weekend, while keeping up with the laundry and grocery shopping (can I get an Amen?).  Amid the hayrides, pumpkin carving, homecoming photos, and football championships, it seems like something is always happening.  Not always good things.  On a wide scale it sometimes seems like the world is coming unhinged.  On a personal level, my Facebook feed has been filled with breast cancer (3 new cases recently), new widows, and and far too many illnesses and medical diagnoses.  Sometimes it is downright depressing. We have all been there.  Leading our idyllic life with our happy family when tragedy or misfortune strike.  Job loss, job stress, cyber bullying, cancer, car accidents, unknown medical issues with no treatment in sight, and even loss.  No family is immune.  My family was not prepared when we were shocked by loss.  What can a person do?  Be as prepared as

I am an art teacher.  I know lots of teachers.  My children will have 16 teachers combined this school year.  And yet, I don't think I fully realized the impact of teachers until recently. In some ways,  teachers have a lot of power.  They have the power to inspire, encourage, and build up; or to the power to tear down and destroy.  I like to believe most teachers aspire to be a catalyst for positive change, growth, and lifelong success. While I am a teacher.  I am also a mom.   My daughter is growing up before my eyes.  These days the growth is less physical and more emotional and intrapersonal.  She is becoming a person.  A real grown up person separate from me.  She has thoughts about her life and future that have nothing to do with my thoughts ( I don't know about you but this came as a shock to me !).  She has dreams and plans beyond the seeds I have planted in her head.  Sure, I see my hand in it.  I also see biology because she is  rapidly becoming the 2018 version