A Birthday Celebration

Today Nash would be six.  Six.  He'd have already grown into a full-fledged little boy... running around, not eating his vegetables, tracking dirt up my stairs, and getting tucked in safe and sound every night.  This is always a day of such mixed emotions.  Of course, my heart aches at not being able to see the little boy he would be.  While at the same time, I try to think of today as a day we set aside to celebrate him and all he taught us during the five short months he was here.  This year, I might have thought of a way to really do this...

First off, I've got to say that I'm overwhelmed by so many of your comments and well-wishes regarding the big "reveal" that I hinted at last week.  I am so blessed to have family and friends that have my back.  Really, I'm a lucky lady.

Okay so here goes...

A little background info first: As many of you know, I really like to write - always have.  In the fall of 2008, a couple months after Nash passed away, I wrote a manuscript for a children's book that attempted to explain heaven in kids terms.  At the time, Tate had just turned two, and I knew that he was going to start asking more questions about his little brother as time went on.  So my project began as a way to help him and ended up being a cathartic exercise in healing for me. 

To make a long story short, I reached out to potential publishers maybe a year or so after I wrote it. I actually got an offer for publication from a very small, private company in Ohio.  The publisher and I spoke over the phone for months - I even received some sketches from his illustrators for a couple of the pages.  And then I got a phonecall that the company was going under and my contact had taken a new job at a very large publishing company out of state.  So needless to say, my big plan stopped right in it's tracks.  I was bummed, so I put my book on hold for awhile. 

Last year, I decided I'd like to try again, but after doing more research, I realized that self publishing might be my best option.  After all, the reason for getting my book out there is to help other families dealing with loss and also to keep Nash's memory alive.  I just had one big problem... self publishing is EXPENSIVE!  Even though children's books are much shorter than novels, the colorful illustrations tend to make them much more to produce.  So began my internal brainstorming as to how to make this happen.

My first breakthrough came when I spoke to my brother.  He agreed to do the illustrations for me (after all, he did graduate from the Art Institute of Chicago)!  I still want to compensate him, but it won't be nearly as expensive as using an illustrator from a self publishing company.

And then came a major breakthrough...  By complete chance, a wonderful friend introduced me to a website that might actually be able to make my dream come true.  Pubslush.com is a site devoted to people just like me - authors looking for a way to publish.  All I have to do is submit my book to the site and have people visit it and decide if they'd like to make a donation to help get it published.  Then if I reach my goal, the money goes towards the self publishing costs.  Amazing. 

I have spent many hours getting my page ready for my friends and family to see.   There's an excerpt from the book, a short video (not real thrilled that I had to do that), and lots of specific info about the book and my plans for publishing. 

And as y'all have probably guessed, this is where you come in.  I have exactly 30 days from today to raise a minimum of $5000, with my ultimate goal being $10,000.  The more money my book is getting, the more publicity it gets on the website.  So if you feel inclined to help, please visit the link below and look around.  Then decide if you think this is something you'd like to help me with. 

http://pubslush.com/books/id/961


But hold on...

Many of you have walked along this path with me for so long now, you may have a question brewing in the back of you mind... It might sound something like this,"Wow, I'd love to help her with this, but she always asks for donations for the March of Dimes this time of year too.  I really can't do both."  And you'd be right.  This is what I've debated on over and over again for months.  But I think I've come up with an idea.

If I raise any money above the amount I need to actually get my book published (~$5000) the rest will be donated directly to the March of Dimes in memory of Nash.  So if anyone wants to donate to my book, there is no need to make a separate donation to MOD later. 

At first I worried that by doing it this way, I would raise a lot less for March of Dimes compared to what I usually do.  But a friend pointed out that my bottom line every year is to help other families and remember Nash, and that by publishing my book, I would be accomplishing both of these.  I think I'm okay with that... for this year.

So, I guess that's it.  It's not anything crazy or life-altering or amazing.  It's just me trying to do one more thing for my little boy on his birthday.  I want so badly to make him proud. 

Thank you in advance for any support, prayers, or donations that you offer.  After all, for this to really work, I'm gonna need all three.

Love to y'all,
Tracy

Plans for the New Year

Now that 2014 is nine days in, I've had time to think about where I want this year to go.  I've debated all my usual resolutions and pretty much shot them down one by one.  This year, I feel like I need something more.  Something big.  So I've decided to embark on a long-awaited journey.

Rewind just a bit. 

January 1st always marks the 1/2 way mark of Nash's passing.  He died on July 1, so this past New Year's Day marked exactly 5 1/2 years that he's been gone.  It always hits me pretty hard, as I wrestle with the clean slate hopefulness of a brand new start and the acknowledgement that more time has passed since I've seen my baby's sweet face.  Bittersweet is an understatement. 

Nash's sixth birthday is coming up next week and I've decided that it's on that day that I'm going to begin working towards my ultimate goal for 2014.  I've worked for five years on a very special and personal "project" and I think I've come up with a way to - hopefully - make it a reality. 

So next Wednesday, January 15th, on Nash's birthday, I'm going to ask for A LOT of help from anyone and everyone to accomplish a feat that I don't even know is truly possible at this point.  There will be lots more details to come.  I'm really looking forward to start on this path... 

Love to y'all,
Tracy

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