End of School

Well, in 3 more days, we will have survived this school year. Obviously, it's been a difficult one. I'm incredibly proud of my children for having the strength and courage to get through it. We've had our rough days. We've had more "sick" days then we probably should have. We've had our fights about how to behave in school. We've survived it.

My kids had a tough year. They've all lost more this year then they ever should have to. They've all come out stronger in the end of it. Two of them started new schools, made new friends, mourned the loss of their old schools and some of their friends. They've all had a house change, one of them two of them. Two of them had brief hospital stays. One of them a surgery. All of them counseling. Some of them the counseling was a new thing.

They've all made new friends this year. We've moved into a great new neighborhood where new friendships are blossoming. The kids have settled into a new routine for the most part. They've all grown and become stronger. In the face of difficult times, they've held on tight and fought through and have made it to summer.

We still have rough days. We've experienced a lot of "firsts" that have been hard this year. We will continue to have those. We will continue to grow and learn from them. We will continue to honor their mom, aunt, my sister. We will be stronger in the end because that's the only choice.

All-in-all, under horrible circumstances, we've made it. THEY'VE made it. Each and everyone of them. I could not be more proud of them. I could not be more proud to call them my children.

My Sister

The story goes that before I was born, my sister was not excited about having me come into the world. That all changed the day my mother didn't bring me home from the hospital. Anitra was angry. She wanted her baby. From the day I came home, we were together. I was her baby, her bestie, her sissy, and she mine.

I have memories of being little and doing fun things with her. She was my hero. She wasn't afraid of anything then. She was my best friend. I remember bouncing up and down the stairs to The Oakridge Boy's Elvira. I remember her teaching me how to "shave" and the massive thumb cut. I remember hiding in the upstairs window that overlooks the street because we had done something that would make April or mom mad. I remember her telling me it was okay to pee in the bathtub as long as you poured Hydrogen Peroxide in it. I remember her rarely taking time to think things through, just jumping in head first and hoping the water was deep enough.

I remember being really excited about seeing my daddy but being really sad at the same time that my sister wasn't coming with us. For 4 years, as far as my memory serves, this girl was my world.

We didn't grow up together much after that. I'm not going into that all because that's not what this story is about. We saw each other, we got in more trouble together, we planned and plotted and there was a large period of time that I just missed her.

When I was 19 years old and living own my own, she called me. She was pregnant and living on the streets in Omaha and without a thought, I went and picked her up and moved her in with me. She was my sissy. I found her a doctor, I found her a job. She was my sissy. She had Rythm and I was with her. Oh how we laughed. There were disagreements, of course there were. She was NUTS and I was...I think her words were pushy and bossy. Did I mention she was nuts?? :)

I had to move to MS. I couldn't take her with me. That broke my heart. I think it broke hers too. She got in trouble again. She moved around. I wouldn't take her collect call from jail on my birthday. She got me back for that and for the rest of my birthdays with her she would call and say she was calling collect. I would yell "I don't take collect calls on my birthday!" and then I would hang up on her. She'd call back and we'd both just laugh!

We both lived in Kearney again. One of the stories I tell the kids is about one time that she did something and I said something stupid about it. She got really angry and blocked me from being able to call her. I was devastated. I cried and cried. I missed my sister. Two weeks went by and she showed up at my place. I was shocked and glad at the same time. She came in all pissed off because I hadn't called her IN FOREVER. I said, "you have blocked my number! What the hell is wrong with you?" She started laughing because she had totally forgotten that she had blocked me. I had to tell her why she had blocked me and when I did she said, "that's stupid." That was my sister.

While we lived in Minden, I didn't see Anitra for awhile. I think it was a little over a year. It made me so sad but she had cut us out and I didn't follow or try to stop her from doing it. She was going through some hard stuff and didn't want us to go through it with her. I know it was heart-breaking for me and I'm sure it was hard for her not to have me. At least that's what I will always tell myself. :)

We accidentally ran into each other again on April Fool's Day of all times. It was like nothing had happened. There was not a gap of time for either of us. We went right back to whatever it was we were. We laughed, fought, thought each other was ridiculous. Mostly we laughed. Phone calls multiple times a day. It was like the "you're my new best friend, call me every 15 minutes" kind of thing. We moved to Lincoln shortly there after and shortly after that, Anitra moved to Lincoln. We all lived together as long as we could.

There are so many funny stories I could write about. I might write some more of those. There are a lot of sad stories to tell also. I might write some of those sometime too.

People talk about "soul mates". I think mine was Anitra. We filled in each other's blanks. She began where I ended and vice versa. She was the fun one, while I handled all the serious stuff. She was the "crazy" one,while I made sure everyone had their stuff with them. I told her where people needed to be and she got them there.

Not everyone is lucky enough to have someone like that in their life. Steve used to call us both his wives. He was the "technical" handyman and she was the one who could "fix" anything with duct tape and super glue. Heck, she helped pick out and pay for his wedding ring! He didn't know that one until just recently. She was the one I would say "tell Steve I want..." She would call me and say "what are we doing for Steve" for Christmas, birthday, mostly Father's Day. She was his fishing buddy. She took the kids to the pool and I made sure they had sunscreen.

I haven't "forgotten" all the bad times. I just choose not to focus on them. I don't pretend like everything was always wonderful. We were a family and she was mentally-ill for a very long time. I haven't shaded those parts away. There were some really tough times. There were really frustrating times. There were "I want to strangle" you times. There was a lot of crap. Hers and mine.

She was mine though. I felt like I was hers. She was my sister, my soul mate, my best friend, my constant companion, that one person that you could tell absolutely anything to and know that you weren't being judged.

Words cannot express how much I miss her. Words cannot express the sadness and pain I have without her. I keep waiting for someone to tell me this nightmare is over. I keep waiting for her to call, well text, me and to hear her start laughing because she really pulled one over on me this time. I would have given anything to have her call me collect this year on my birthday. I would give anything to see her smile and laugh at me for something.

I don't think I'm "stuck", I think I'm just still healing. I don't think I'll ever feel whole again. I have been told that I will feel better, and some days I do, but I don't think I'll ever feel the same as I did. I don't think it will ever not hurt. I miss her and I want her back. I know that wanting her back is selfish, but I still want her back. I go through the days saying "I'm ok and I'm fine" so often that I think someday I'll believe it. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I don't think I ever would have been.

A Different Kind of Day

Anitra did not call me on Friday with her annual "What are we gonna do for mom for Mother's Day this year?"

Yes, this year was different. I've been told by many people that the "firsts" are harder generally. This was no exception. I didn't look for any coffee themed, funny little gifts to give her. I didn't have any help getting ideas for my mom and I didn't have anybody to put little bugs in their ears to tell Steve what to do for the day. 

I did want to make the day special for our mother because I knew this would be a hard day for her. I hope I succeeded in that. I knew that the kids needed to honor their mom in a special way this year. I wanted to honor her in a special way this year. If it were not for Anitra, I would not be a mother of six. I got three bonus kids from her and that is special and something that I will treasure all of my life. 

I asked the girls at work. I knew we would do a balloon release but I wanted there to be more to that. I wanted there to be something that the kids could put their heart into. They suggested a "note in a bottle" theme. It was perfect. I let each of the kids write a little note to her. We rolled them up and went to HyVee. The ladies there looked at me with my strange request and helped out. Each child got to pick a color and we put the notes in the balloon and blew them up. We then went to the park and took some pictures and released them. Then, because I knew I needed to keep them occupied with me today and I had no desire to listen to them fight all afternoon, we went to the movie. Reyanne had wanted just her and I to go but that wouldn't have been right today. We went to see the Crood's. It was good. There were some sad parts when we didn't think the dad was going to make it, but even those were perfect. There were tears. The central theme was that we not be afraid of tomorrow and we reach for the sun and anything is possible. The movie reminded us to live! Mostly, there was laughter and there was family. We were there together. 

Reyanne, who at seven, has experienced and expressed the loss of her mother in much different ways than the others. She seemed to almost look as though she felt guilty giving me the gifts that her class had made for their "moms." I could see a look in her face and just gave her lots of loves and hugs today because I'm aware that she was feeling these things but couldn't identify them. 

Ariez was pretty wired today. I have noticed that in emotionally charged situations, he seems to get pretty excitable. There's an anxiousness about him that people sometimes misjudge as hyper. Not that he isn't hyper! Trust me, this child could be in texts books about hyperactivity. It's a different type of hyper. He seems uncomfortable in his own skin. He doesn't really know how to express that in any other way. 

Rythm was incredibly strong. I know it was a hard day for her. She never let on that she was struggling. She has grown emotionally a lot in the last few months and weeks. She seems to be more aware that her mood and attitude set the tone for others around her. She has chosen to use that more for good now, instead of a way to wind up everyone else. She is an incredibly strong and bright 16 year old girl. She is growing so much. 

I am so proud of them. I can't imagine going through what they have gone through. I can't imagine the feelings of their loss. I am so proud of the way they handled themselves. I will not allow them to use this loss as an excuse to check out of life. I will continue to push them to honor their mother and not allow her death to be an excuse for bad behavior. Honoring her will get them farther. 

It was also the first Mother's Day that I am the mother of six. I used to tell people that going from one to two children was way harder than going from two to three because you are already used to juggling. I think, if things had been different and I would have had four, then five, then six, the transition would have been smoother. Three to six is hard. Three to six is a huge adjustment! 

Today reminded me of how proud I am of each of my children. I tell people that I have three bio kids and three bonus kids. I realized today, more than any day so far, that I really do love them all as though I gave birth to them all. There is not a distinction in my love for them. This is who I am and who God made me to be. It's not always easy. There are days I hate it. I had those days before I had six kids. There is not a day that goes by that I wish I didn't have all of them. Don't get me wrong, if we could get a do-over and Anitra could be here, I'd take that in a heartbeat. Since I can't, I am so glad that I have six kids. I am incredibly blessed to be the mother of so many. 

The Haircut

Who knew something as simple as a hair cut, for a 7 year old, could invoke so many feelings? Well, to be fair, I did. Reyanne has wanted to cut her hair since the day she came home with us. Since everybody in our house has short hair, and she hates having her hair combed, it seems like a pretty natural thing for her to want. What's the big deal you ask? Her mother, my dear sister, would NEVER cut her hair.

Here's the deal with me...I'm not a person who really cares about hair. I never have been, I don't think I ever will be. You want it pink, blue, long, short, mohawk, shaved? Why not? It's hair and it will grow out or grow back or can be cut or can be dyed back. There are so many other things for me to freak out about, their hair is pretty much the least of my concerns.

Fast forward to every single day of combing Rey's hair and putting "pink" in it, fighting with the tangles (and the tears that come with the tangles), trying to get those pesky pony tails out when I forget to buy the ones without seams, pulling leaves out of it, figuring out what that gunky stuff is and the best way to remove it...You get the picture.

In November I took Rey to get her hair trimmed. She desperately needed to get the split ends off. It was so tangly and gnarly. She, of course, took the opportunity to repeatedly nag me about getting as much cut off as I would possibly allow. I knew that if I cut her hair too short people would be upset. Everyone knew how much Anitra loved Rey's hair. I felt like if I let her cut it too short, it would be too much too soon and just another slap in the face that Anitra was gone. I didn't want to do that to anybody. As it turned out, in order to get Rey's hair healthy, we ended up needing to take off about 3-4 inches. Rey was sad because I wouldn't let her go shorter, but I just felt like that was enough of an adjustment for everyone to handle at this time. It WAS a lot shorter but it was still pretty long.

Since then, Rey has been on me to let her cut her hair short. "I want short hair, like you and Genna and Tai," she says on a daily basis. My favorite one, the one that makes me feel bad is, "but you let EVERYONE do what they want with their hair and not ME!" Oh my gosh, it's hair! Does this have to be such a huge part of our lives? The answer, because she's 7, is yes. It really does have to be a huge deal, it really does have to be something we talk about and fuss about just about EVERY single day.

Today was haircut day. The agony of haircut day. I lost sleep over what I was going to let her do. I fretted about this to people because I just want to please everybody, every moment. I never want anyone to feel like I'm "replacing" their mother. I never want any of  Anitra's family, friends, mostly children, feel like I don't respect the loss that we have all endured. Trust me, there a LOT of decisions (really important ones) that I first ask myself what everyone else will think before I make.

That being said, Reyanne got her haircut today. She wanted chin-length, I negotiated (which basically means I told her what was going to happen) shoulder length. Did you know that when you have REALLY curly hair that it looks a lot longer when it's wet than when it's dry. I know, I know...I really did know that but was honestly shocked when I looked over to my little cutie and saw her hair bob about just about chin length. I swallowed back an emotional bubble, and the thought that Anitra would KILL me if she saw it and said, "omgosh, it's so cute!"

You know what? It really is super cute. You know what? Reyanne LOVES it! She is SO happy with her cute little hair cut. I worried what my mom would say and I worried about how Rythm would feel. Rythm said to herself, "mom would be so mad." To me, after way too long of a discussion about hair and what other people think, Rythm said "the only one who would have a right to be mad is mom and she's gone so she doesn't get to say anything about it anymore." Incredibly wise words from my very wise bonus kid!

While I will continue to worry that people will be upset and feel bad for anyone that has hard feelings about this, I will be ok because guess what? It really is just hair. It really will grow back. Most of all, Rey really does love it and feels like such a big girl with her "I got to choose" haircut.