Thursday, October 20, 2011

Breakfast for dinner

I have no idea why I am writing about this, but I am. This afternoon as I was driving home from picking Savannah up - I decided that breakfast for dinner sounded like a wonderful idea. We seem to go in spurts on this and sometimes it is a simple affair - just eggs and toast. Tonight, I felt like making homefries, pancakes, eggs and toast. Why I would choose this on a night where I needed to be somewhere - I have no idea. I just did. I was sitting at the table peeling potatoes and I started remembering my mom cooking breakfast for dinner. I could see her crystal clear in my mind standing at the stove in our house on Scarsdale. She would make eggs, pancakes, and minute steaks. Sometimes she would make homefries too. My mom was a way nicer mom than I usually am because she would make the eggs to order for each of the 6 of us. Most of the time when I do it - everyone is getting their eggs cooked the same. I moved from peeling those potatoes into the kitchen to make pancakes. As I stood there waiting for them to bubble - I could hear her telling me that the little bubbles let me know it was time to flip them. My mom has taught me so many things. It is strange to me how some of those things are like they happened yesterday. I guess breakfast for dinner is a comfort food for me because it reminds me of when life was so easy and the biggest thing I was facing was flipping the pancakes at the right time. It sure would be nice to go back in time for a visit to watching my mom cook breakfast for dinner and having all 6 of us sit around the table enjoying it.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Little pieces of Sebastian's heart

Yesterday, I got a message from a woman at church - Kristen - about having Sebastian sing a song with another child for the Christmas play. That got my mind thinking and rolling around what has happened in his life in the last 17 months. I decided I should write it down because even though some of it is very painful, some of it is very much filled with hope. I guess really this post starts when Sebastian was just in my belly and had a few months until he was born. We had gone for an ultrasound and found out he was a boy! Timmy and Savannah were both with us. Savannah sat on the ground in true 5 year old behavior and cried because this new baby was not only a boy, but he was due on her birthday! The horrors of it all! Timmy, on the other hand, leaped into the air did one of those ALRIGHT moments of "I am having a brother!" Two completely different reactions. Time passed and we welcomed Mr. Sebastian into our world. His momma was still somewhat of a mess from losing her best friend a year earlier. As much as I love Sebastian and we chose to have him because of my hurting heart - there were days I thought this tiny baby was getting short changed because his momma was a bit frazzled at best. He did have an awesome big brother(and an equally wonderful big sister) that helped out when he was home. At one point, I even left my little 2 year old Sebastian with his brother and dad for 6 days while I took Savannah to Williamsburg. Everyone thought I should have worried about leaving my baby with my 17 year old... in truth I was a bit more worried about the days my husband had him all day! After all, Timmy had been home with Sebastian since the day he was born. He knew all his quirks and all of his routine. My husband, on the flip side of the coin, had been at work most days. Time flew by as it often does and Timmy was soon leaving for the Army. Sebastian was not quite 4 when he left. I remember telling Timmy over and over that if he joined the service - the kids wouldn't know him. I told him how I was so extremely close to my oldest sister, but when she married and moved away when I was 12 - our closeness fell away. I was worried about it and if you know me at all - that means I obsessed about it. Then there was my oldest son, wise and kind. He wrote letters and sent pictures and text messages and he called. Oh yes, he called. He would talk to me and he would talk to Sebastian. Not as much as I would have liked in hindsight, but that is a different post. Don't ask me about my lack of using SKYPE - I literally and I do mean literally have a mini panic attack when I see it on the screen because I am so sad for not using it more. Time will heal that as it does other things. Anyway, I am getting off track. My point is that Timmy stayed connected to his siblings. He let them know they were important to him and that they loved him. When Timmy died, Sebastian had the unfortunate event of not getting told in a gentle manner. He was in the van when I pulled into the driveway that day. He saw me, my mom and my sister completely lose it as we saw the two soldiers standing there. He saw me beat on my steering wheel and scream. He was just 5 years old and he did not deserve that. Savannah was not at home. I was able to take her aside and hold her and tell her. Sebastian spent time away from me that day and I remember at some point telling my friend April that she needed to bring him home right now. I guess in my haze it hit me that HE needed me. When she brought him home - he went to his room and he began kicking his wall as hard as he could. Then he fell into my arms and he cried. Not his usual "I am being a pain in the butt kid" cry, but the kind that was he had just lost his big brother cry. For weeks, he would kick that wall. For the next year, he had meltdown after meltdown. I mean crumbling in to what I call snotty fits - where the tears are rolling and the snot is flying. Not pretty and sometimes frustrating. Enough to make me insane at some times. I just wanted to sit at the park with my friends and heal a bit, but my Sebastian was crying over everything. We tried lots of things and lots of people had "advice". Tim and I talked about it over and over. All at once it hit me. I was crying everyday. Sure, most days, I did it quietly, but not always. Some days I cried so hard and there was nothing that was going to make it stop. I was 38 years old and I was crying and having snotty fits. I just had the sense to go sit on my closet floor to do it. Why on earth would I expect my 5 or 6 year old child to do better? When I realized that - it changed how I dealt with it. I knew I couldn't allow him to just get angry and throw fits, but I also knew that it had some reason to be there. His anger came from pain in his heart and that is real. I thought about how I sat alone in my closet and cried until I felt better. I began sitting him alone when he had a meltdown. If we were at the park - I would open all the van doors and sit him in the van. Pretty soon, he actually knew the drill and sometimes would tell me he just needed to be by himself for a bit. I am happy to say that today we are not having nearly as many trials with him. There are some people that helped along the way and that brings me back to the very beginning of this story. Last winter as I was walking through Walmart, I saw our youth pastor, Oakley and his wife, Kristen. Now, they don't know this, but they will now if they ever read this. I actually saw them and I walked through the clothes aisle to avoid them. WHY would I do that, you might be wondering? Well, because Tim and I had taken Sebastian out of church for that time. Too many meltdowns at church was very trying on both Sebastian and me. So, I didn't want to come face to face with them. Then it happened. Kristen called over to me, "Sebastian's mom... Sebastian's mom." I stopped and turned. She came over and very sweetly told me how much they missed Sebastian at church. I explained the above. I worried she would think I was a bad mom taking my kid out of church and all. She didn't act that way at all. She was very kind and continued to be kind each Sunday when I did NOT bring Sebastian back to church. A couple of months passed. We decided it was time to give it a try again. I would love to end the story with something like Sebastian never had another meltdown again at church, but that would be a fairy tale ending. He had and continues to have some good days and some bad days. Not nearly as many bad days anymore. People like Kristen, and Anne Marie another great woman that helps at the church and Margie head of the children's department were patient with him. And there are others inside and outside of church that love him broken and all. They didn't expect him to be all fixed and perfect. They understood that his heart was broken into a lot of little pieces and it was going to take a lot of time to try to fit the pieces back into place. When I got that message asking him to have a specific part in the Christmas play, it was just fitting one more of the pieces in place. It is just a tiny verse that he gets to sing, but the fact that they love him enough to know that this may be a challenge and that they are willing to take it. That says something. I know his heart won't hurt as bad forever and I am glad of that. At the same time, I will always be sad that as his heart heals - it means he will miss his brother less. It is bittersweet. With the pain comes little pieces of joy when you least expect them.