Ice-pocalypse 2013

We all know that Texans aren't the most reliable source of opinions as far as "bad" weather goes.  In the "winter," an afternoon high of 40 degrees usually means no outside recess.  God forbid the temp drops into the thirties - in which case, according to the news, everyone needs to remember to cover their outside plants (huh?), keep their faucets dripping all night, and of course, go stock up on groceries... just in case.  Now, none of this even begins to compare to what Texans do if a drop of frozen rain, sleet, or snowflake fall from the sky... (Sensing my sarcastic tone here?)

We've lived in Texas almost 12 years now, but I still roll my eyes when the weathermen interupt every show to bring us the latest in the "possibility" of there being some sort of "inclement" weather.  So last week, when the warnings were being said and people were filling up on gas and groceries, I didn't give it much thought.  Oh please, Y'ALL, this is Texas for goodness sake. 

Well...

Wednesday's high was pushing 80, which just reconfirmed my thoughts that this "winter blast" was just another Texas overexaggeration.  Thursday started off brisk and the rain began to fall.  Brad was supposed to fly to Iowa on Friday to go deer hunting for a week, and he called me Thursday at school to say he was going to drive because his flight was going to be canceled the following day.  Huh?  Really?  The temps Thursday evening plummetted into the low thirties and Plano called off school for Friday.  Surely, they were just being overcautious.

I woke up surprised to see that we actually did have some accumuation in our yard.  But upon further inspection, realized it was only an inch or two of ice.  How bad could that be? 

Bad.  All school districts in North Texas were closed.  They even shut down the two main interstates that lead to Texas from Oklahoma.  They weren't letting people in (we are our own country, you know).  The roads were literally empty. 

 Ice covered EVERYTHING. 

 Baseball bats are hard to swing like this.

 TONS of fallen trees.

 

 Knox in action - boogers and all!

 Love Brady's hodgepodge winter get up.

By Saturday, most of the precip was done falling, but the temps dropped to the twenties and everything just stayed super icy.  By Sunday, the high got around 36, but stayed cloudy, so any melting that did occur iced right back up a few hours later... Hence, no school on Monday. 

Relaxing with her "special juice..." I needed my own form of this by Monday evening.

"Mom, let's play football. Us versus you."

Pulling out the sleeper (aka getting desperate)

I think she ran out of other things to do.

 

This morning temps were only in the teens, but are expected to rise to almost 40 I think, so things should begin melting more and more.  There are still dozens of districts closed today because of the icy roads, but all the big ones seem to be open. 

So I guess what I'm saying is, I'm sorry to all the weathermen that were accurate in saying we were getting inclement weather and that this storm would reak havok on travel and commutes.  I admit it, they were right.  I shouldn't have laughed at them last week when they gave all their warnings.  I apologize.

The kids and I fended for ourselves the best we could.  A lot of "together" time, that's for sure.  My mom and dad came over a couple times to ease the boredom.  But overall, the kids coped pretty well.  Me?  Well this single mom gig is tough!  I just about became a heavy drinker... So glad Brad gets back tomorrow night!

Love to y'all,
Tracy

The Mother of All Mothers

This week is always such a mix of emotions for me.  I am beyond grateful for each person that will sit around me at our Thanksgiving table on Thursday.  Without them, I am nothing.  But as full as I feel as I look into each of their blue eyes, I also feel the deepest ache because there is one chair that will forever remain empty. 
 
A wonderful friend shared with me a link to a book about mothers and their grief after losing a child.  I think it is so beautifully written and really speaks to me.  I'm hoping that it can bring some comfort to my fellow "warrior mamas..."
To see more about this book, check it out here. 

You Are the Mother of All Mothers By: Angela Miller
I have to tell you this.
You didn’t fail. Not even a little.
You are not a horrible mother.
You didn’t choose this. You didn’t want this to happen. You didn’t do anything wrong. It just happened. To you. Despite your begging, pleading, praying, hoping against all hope it would not. Even though everything within you was screaming no, no, no, no, no.
God didn’t do this to punish you, smite you, or to teach you a lesson. That is not God’s way. You could not have prevented this if you tried harder, prayed harder, or were a “better” person. Nor if you ate better, loved harder, yoga-ed more, did x, y, or z to the nth degree—fill in the blank with any other lie your mind devises. You could not have prevented this even if you could have predicted the future like no one can.
No, there is nothing more you could have done. You did everything you possibly could have. And you are the best mother there is because you would have done absolutely anything to keep your child alive. To breathe your last breath instead. To choose the pain all over again just to spend one more minute together. That is the ultimate kind of love. You are the ultimate kind of mother.
So wash your hands of any naysayers, betrayers, or those who sprinted in the other direction when you needed them most. Wash your hands of the people who may have falsely judged you, ostracized you, or stigmatized you because of what happened to you. Wash your hands of anyone who has made you feel less than by questioning everything you did or didn’t do. Anyone whose words or looks have implied this was somehow your fault.
This was not your fault. This will never be your fault, no matter how many different ways someone tries to tell you it was.
Especially if that someone happens to be you. Sometimes it’s not what others are saying that keeps you shackled in shame. Sometimes you adopt others’ misguided opinions and assumptions. Sometimes it’s your own inner voice that shoves you into the darkest corner of despair, like an abuser, telling you over and over and over again you failed as a mother. Convincing you if only this and what if that, it never would have happened. Saying you coulda, shoulda done this or that so your child would not have died.
That is a lie of the sickest kind. Do not believe it, not even for a second. Do not let it sink into your bones. Do not let it smother that beautiful, beautiful light of yours.
Instead, breathe in this truth with every part of yourself: You are the best damn mother in the entire world.
No one else could do what you do. No one else could ever mother your child as well as you can, as well as you are. No one else could let your child’s love and light shine through the way you do. No one else could mother your dead child as bravely. No one else could carry this unrelenting burden as courageously. It is the heaviest, most torturous burden there is.
There is no one, no one, no one who could ever, ever replace you. No one. You were chosen to be your child’s mother. Yes—chosen. And no one could parent your child better in life or in death than you do. You have within you a sacred strength.
You are the mother of all mothers.
So breathe, mama, keep breathing. Believe, mama, keep believing. Fight, mama, keep fighting for this truth to uproot the lies in your heart—you didn’t fail. Not even a little.
For whatever it’s worth, I see you. I hear your guttural sobs. I feel your ache deep inside my bones. And it doesn’t make me uncomfortable to put my fingers as a makeshift Band-Aid over the gaping hole in your heart until the scabs come, if and when they do.
It takes invincible strength to mother a child you can no longer hold, see, touch, or hear. You are a superhero mama. I see you fall down and get up, fall down and get up, over and over again. I notice the grit and guts it takes to pry yourself out of bed every single day and force your bloodied feet to stand up and keep walking. I see you walking this path of life you’ve been given, where every breath and step apart from your child is a physical, emotional, and spiritual battleground. A fight for your own survival. A fight to quiet the insidious lies.
But the truth is, you haven’t failed at all. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.
You are the mother of all mothers.
Truly, the most inspiring, courageous, loving mother there is—a warrior mama through and through.
For even in death, you lovingly mother your precious child still.

Happy Thanksgiving to all the warrior mamas out there.
Love to y'all,
Tracy

The Grass Isn't Always Greener

Of course, I think of Nash countless times every single day.  Most of the time, it's memories and what ifs.  When we found out what was wrong with Nash, we were told many times that the only option we would have had to save him would have been a heart transplant, and that this wouldn't have necessarily had a positive outcome.  Sometimes I let myself imagine what would have happened if we had gone down that road.  This week is one of those times.
 
A couple days ago, I found out that a little boy that went to school where I teach, passed away after a receiving a heart transplant back when he was a baby.  He had gone through many, many battles over the years and eventually his little heart just couldn't keep going.  I remember meeting him last year, and wondering how his journey may have mirrored the one that our family never got a chance to embark on. 
 
On most days, I get a get a great amount of peace, knowing that Nash was happy for all five months of his life.  He played and giggled and smiled nonstop, bringing nothing but joy to all who knew him.  We are blessed by these memories. 
 
But what if things had been different? 
 
We've been told that had we known about Nash's heart defect, he would've been admitted to a Pediatric ICU immediately and then we would have waited for a healthy heart to be ready for his little body.  We would've sat at his side day and night, waiting for another parent to have to say good-bye to their baby so that our baby might be able to live.  I can't imagine... The agony of all of that.  The stress, the worry, the fear.  Our lives would have been so very different. 
 
When it comes down to it, of course, I would have done everything and anything to save my son.  No matter how hard it might have been.  I would have endured every possible stress, worry, or fear just to keep him here even one more day.  But, because we had virtually no warnings that Nash was ill, I truly believe that he saved us from a lot of pain and heartache. 
 
Please say a prayer for my school's former Brinker Bear that is now living healthy and strong alongside my little boy in heaven.  I know all too well the journey his parents have begun - and it's tough and rocky and neverending to say the least. 

Love to y'all,
Tracy

Brady Turns TWO!?

How is it possible that my little bitty, tiny, baby girl is TWO?  Each and every day I'm learning exactly what more experienced parents say when they tell me that life goes by faster and faster as kids get older.  I cannot believe that I am really through the "baby phase" in my house once and for all.  I've been waiting for this point for years and yet I'm not sure that I should end the previous sentence with an exclamation point or a "sniff, sniff." 

If I'm being honest, I am ready to be done with a lot of the baby phase... the breastfeeding, all-night crying spells, pacing around the house to try to get a grumpy baby back to sleep.  But there is a part of me that does miss the curled up baby falling asleep on my chest, or the tiny grunts and coos I'd hear on the monitor, or the little fingers that would wrap tightly around mine.  I'm happy with the size of our family and definitely am done having kiddos, but I can't help but miss some of the moments that come with having a baby.

Tucking Brady in two nights ago, I realized that it would be the last time I tuck in a one year old, and my heart sank a little bit (until grandbabies, of course).  She's growing up right before our eyes and there's nothing I can do about it.  Maybe since she's the youngest, I feel like I need to hold onto her a little bit longer.  Because if she's growing up, then what does that mean about my boys?  They're practically heading off the college.  Sigh...

To celebrate my little girl, let me share some of my most favorite things about her...

• Her genuine excitement when I get home from work...RUNNING full force with out-stretched arms.  Best. Thing. Ever.
• Her contagious and hearty belly laughs.
• Her love of all things having to do with her brothers... Baseball, basketball, soccer, superheroes, Angry Birds, video games, building forts.  If they do it, she does it... kind of.
• Her BIG blue eyes and how they get even bigger when she's sleepy. 
• Her potty mouth... yep, some of her favorite lines at the moment are, "I'm gonna kick your butt." and "I'll fart in your face."  I know it's totally inappropriate, but it's sooo hard to reprimand a little 20 pound girl with a pink bow in her hair while I'm laughing at what she said.  I pick my battles and this one I'm not fighting yet.
• Her teeny tiny bootie.  I swear it's the size of Tate's when he was like 3 months old. 
• The way she looks at her daddy.
• That she can eat more than both her brothers combined... I just pray her metabolism stays the way it is.
• Her voice.

I could list about a thousand more things.  But I'll spare you.  I just feel so blessed that God gave Brady to me because she is a perfect fit to our family.  Isn't it funny how He does this?  Not only does He give us these miracles, but He gives us the exact ones we need.  Amazing.

Love to y'all,
Tracy

Long Time No Write

No excuses as to why I haven't written in an entire MONTH!!!  Life, I guess.   Getting back in the swing of being a working mom is always a little crazy, and this year has proved no different.

Over this past weekend, Brad and I went to visit his sister and her husband in Connecticut and then the four of us went in to NYC for two nights.  We had an absolute blast - like always.  Love them both so much. 

Soooo much to do in soooo little time.  Here are some highlights... Gorgeous hotel on 42nd and 8th, German Beer Garden, Irish Pub, roof top happy hour, comedy club, late night pizza, diner breakfasts, subways, Ground Zero, Battery Park, Statue of Liberty, The Bronx, Yankees Stadium, after game sports bar, Times Square, dinner at Guy Fieri's, roof top bar in the rain, cab rides with crazy drivers, live bands, LOTS of laughs, and great memories in the making with three of my most favorite people.

 Yankees Game

 

 Gotham City Comedy Club

 Grand Central Station

Beer Garden

 

It was a fantastic trip all around.  Like everyone who travels there, we felt like we needed a couple more days to do and see all that we wanted to.  NYC proved to be a great city full of really great people.  Definitely worth a trip back.

 

Love to y'all,
Tracy

Should

Tonight I should be getting ready to bring TWO little boys to Brinker tomorrow.  I should be packing two lunchboxes, two backpacks, two snacks.  I should walk through the doors tomorrow with both of my hands wrapped around the timid fingers of a first grader AND a kindergartner. 

I've been dreading tomorrow for five years.  And now it's only mere hours away.  How could it be that Nash would be starting kindergarten?  How could he be such a big boy already?  It doesn't seem possible.

I can't help but imagine Nash's little face, as he would walk into a big, beautiful classroom full of new friends and memories to be made.  I should be looking forward to seeing his huge smile as I go to pick him up.  I should get to listen to the nonstop chatter as two brothers compare the day they had on the ride home.  I should tuck in two exhausted Brinker Bears at the end of the day.

But none of these things are going to happen.

I miss my little boy every minute of every day.  But I know that tomorrow will be one of the toughest so far.  After we had Nash, one of the things I looked forward to the most was watching he and Tate grow up so close together... "just one year apart in school," I used to say.  Tomorrow will be such a glaring reminder of who we're missing and all we're missing out on. 

There will be so many questions that will never be answered.  I feel like I'm going be searching the faces of the new kinders tomorrow and think, "Would you have been Nash's buddy?"  Or be walking down the hall, wondering which locker would have had his name on it.  And most of all, seeing the teachers - some dear, dear friends of mine - and know the relationship that Nash would have had with one of them.  Nothing is more special that the bond of a kindergartner and their teacher. 

I'm going to try my best to get through the day with a smile.  I know that I am beyond blessed to have Tate and am really looking forward to him being a first grader.  But knowing that the group of kinders beginning their school careers are minus one, is a tough pill to swallow.  Any prayers coming this way would be so, so appreciated. 

Love to y'all,
Tracy

Teacher Moms

It's official...Today is my last day of summer.  On Monday, I go back to work for my twelfth year of teaching.  Like all teacher-moms, I have mixed emotions as I head back.  On one hand, I get to go back to a job that I love.  And on the other, it's been such a blessing of a summer with my three little ones.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately.  I really do get those beginning of the year butterflies every single year, just like when I was the student, not the teacher.  Like most other teachers, I could spend hours in the school supply section at Target, I get psyched when I find new colorful bins at the Dollar Store, and I really know I'm ready when I start browsing Pinterest for cool new ideas to use with my students.  Every year since Tate was born, this excitement was a little bit tarnished in that I had a sense of guilt that I was happy, and yet I was going to have to spend my days with other people's kids and not my own.

But not this year.

This year, my attitude has changed - and not because of any soul-searching or lightbulb moments.  I think it's mostly due to the fact that I'm just now becoming okay with the fact that I LOVE to teach.  And I came to the realization this summer, that my love for my job doesn't need to be looked at as a negative thing for my family. After all, my mom takes care of Knox and Brady (and she used to take care of Tate).  I have NEVER had to worry about my kids while I work.  This, in itself, is the number one reason why I never took the break that I always thought I would once I started having kids.  We are blessed, blessed, blessed to have my parents so close AND so willing to help us out.  I've also found that being a teacher makes me a better mom.  I learn from my students every single day.  Whether it's the number of earths that can fit inside the sun, or that sometimes even self confident eleven year olds need an encouraging hug now and again... I find myself saying, "When Tate/Knox/Brady is in fifth grade, I need to remember___________."  

I actually look forward to going to school (most days!).  My job as a Gifted Specialist is unique in that I get to have the same kids year after year after year.  For some of the fifth graders that I'll teach this year, I've been their teacher since they were five!  We end up forming quite the bond, and it's really hard to let them go off to middle school.   I'm lucky to teach at a school where I consider the people I work with friends, not coworkers.  We've seen each others' worst and best and everything in between.  And I honestly feel that I'm better because I have each of them in my life.

The best part of teaching, though, are the kids that sit within the walls of my classroom each day.  I could go on and on about the amazing things they do and say.  I could tell you how last year, the shyest student in my fourth grade group ended up blooming into a well-respected and thought-provoking little girl.  I could (try) to explain the uncontrollable giggles (including my own) erupting during a lengthy discussion on the mating patterns of bumblebees.  Or I could say that just this past week I saw three former students during one trip to Target and then one at the mall - it's baffling how fast they grow up! Which brings me to the tremendous amount of pride I have in my heart as I am starting to hear about the plans for the kids that sat in my very first classroom in 2002 (back when I taught first grade).  These kids are going to start their senior years and I am blown away by all they have accomplished already... Can I just brag and say that one of my boys is playing football for YALE next year.  Yes, I said YALE!!!

Teaching is a calling; it is a passion; and it's what I'm supposed to do.

And being a mom is who I was meant to be.

Of course, my own kids come before anything in the world.  But I finally figured out this summer that I am a person blessed enough have my cake and eat it too.  

I pray that my kids understand why I teach...


Tater, 
You're about to start first grade, Buddy.  Wow.  I know you're super excited, and I'm so excited for you.  I'm the luckiest mom in the world because I get to have you with me at school all day long!  Even though I don't see you all the time, just knowing you're there, makes me happy.  I pray that you continue the love of learning that you developed last year. Be compassionate, be kind, and be happy.  I love and adore you.
Mom


Knoxie, 
I'm excited for you to head back to preschool.  You are so ready and I know that you'll have a really great year!  You're going to have so much fun with Grandma and Brady on the days you don't have school.  Please know that Mommy thinks of you all day long and sometimes I even tell my students about the silly things you do and say.  They always laugh at my "Knox Stories." You have grown into such a smart and funny boy.  I love you millions and billions.
Mommy

Brady Girl,

I know that this summer, you and I have been connected at the hip.  And it's gonna take a little getting used to (for both of us) to be separated.  But I also know that Grandma and you are gonna have the best time together!  I pray that as you grow up, you will understand that someday, you can have your cake and eat it too, just like me.  When you're a mommy, you'll have the chance to find a job that you love as much as I love teaching.  Maybe you'll want to be a teacher too.  Or an accountant, or a doctor, or a comedian, or a ballet dancer. Whatever you choose, I hope that it fits you as well as teaching fits me.  Love you bunches, my Brady Lady.

Mama

So to all you teacher-moms out there (especially my fellow Brinker Bears), good luck as you start the new year.  Feel good knowing the impact you will have this year on all of your students.  But more importantly, know that your own kiddos are so very proud of you for what you do.  

I know that I will always be "mom" first...  But "Mrs. Sievers" doesn't bother me one bit.

Love to y'all,
Tracy

Oops!!!

I just posted about our vacation and realized I hadn't written about Tate's seventh birthday!  So excuse the order of these last few posts...

I find myself looking at him, saying, "Where have the last seven years gone?"  Before I was a mom, I always heard people say that their kids grew up way too fast (my own parents included), but now I really get it.  I keep thinking that in seven more years, he'll be almost starting high school; then seven years after that, he'll be drinking beer (legally, that is!).  How can this be possible?!

Tate has taught me everything about being a mom.  He's my guinea pig, and unfortunately feels the brunt of my mistakes as a parent.  And the best thing?  He loves me through it all.  Completely and unwavering.  Just like I love him.

Tate...
You are my very first love (besides Daddy, of course!).  Those big blue eyes of your sucked me in the moment I saw them and have been doing so ever since.  You have grown into such a strong-minded, compassionate, and loyal little boy over the past seven years.  I am so blessed to watch you evolve into who you were meant to be.  Whether it's seeing you in the hallways at school, cheering you on in the stands at a baseball tournament, or watching you with Knox and Brady, I am in awe of you.  Everyday. Thank you for being my baby.  God Bless you, today and always.
Love you bunches,
Mom

Annual "Vacation"

Every mom knows that a vacation that includes kids is anything but a vacation.  As much as we love our little munchkins, getting home is a huge relief.  And it's about that same time that we wish we could go on a "real" vacation. 

That being said, my mom and I set off with the kiddos on Monday for San Antonio to the JW Marriott Resort and Spa.  I'd heard LOTS of great things from my friends about the resort, and they were definitely right on.  It was a gorgeous hotel (I'm sure the spa was great too...sigh...), but totally geared for families and little ones.  All of my kiddos had an awesome time and were completely EXHAUSTED every night at bedtime. 

Here are just some of the highlights of our trip...

 Hanging out at one of the many resort pools.

 LOVE them.

 On top of a slide.

 Playing a little Monster Trucks in the water.

 Best Buddies

 Silly girl.

 SMILE!

 How sweet are they?!

 Water Slides!!!

 Happy boy!

 She loves her grandma!

 Playing baseball in the pool with a beach ball.

A rare moment of "calm."

 

A Day at Sea World...

 Baby beluga whales born a few weeks ago.

 Sliding down from a HUGE play area.

 Hot and sweaty boys!

 Big and little.

 CHEESE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 Riding some rides.

 Checking out the stingrays and sharks.

I can't believe we've only got two weeks before I head back to work.  Where has this summer gone?!

Love to y'all,
Tracy