We Met on Our Bikes

Happy Birthday Lisa!  This is a day early because something happened today that I had to share.   

Well, it has actually been building up to today.  Rylee's BFF at school, Madeline, has a birthday 

today.  Rylee had me mark this on the calendar about two weeks ago.  Last week she picked out 

a few presents to give her friend.  And yesterday morning she picked out what she would wear on 

Madeline's bday.  Her shirt says something about friends on it.  She wore this same shirt on their 

first play date some months ago.  Out of the few things Rylee picked out for Madeline, the one she 

was most excited to give her was the "Best Friends Forever" necklace from Claire's.  She didn't 

even want to wait until she got to school; she said she wanted to give it to her on the bus.  I could 

actually see Rylee opening her backpack to retrieve the inexpensive treasure as her bus pulled away 

this morning.  I smiled because my heart was so happy to see my daughter starting to enjoy giving.   

I'm not delusional, she's six, and she’s all about receiving gifts.  I just couldn't help but be excited at 

the joy she was experiencing over thinking about someone besides herself or someone in her family.   

She notices things she wants to buy for other people more and more.  Granted, she's not forking over 

the money, and we have to say no often, but it's the thought that counts!  

Before my sixth grade "graduation".  Lisa sat through the absurdity, then we went to the Cheesecake Factory for lunch!

All this to say, I realized the first person, other than a family member, I was excited about giving 

presents to and making cards for was Lisa.  We grew up across the street from each other.  Her older 

brothers babysat my siblings and me.  We swam together, built forts, watched the Monkees, stuck up 

for each other, wrote letters to each other even when we lived just across the street, and also when Lisa 

moved away.  Lisa was happy to let me do her chores, because to me, feeding her farm animals was 

new and exciting.  For Lisa it was avoiding a monotonous task she had to complete daily.  She 

introduced me to pomegranates and kumquats, they grew in her backyard.   I also enjoyed one soda 

a week on Saturdays thanks to her mom, Sue.  Sue also prepared us the most amazing after-swim-meet 

breakfasts.  Sue can cook a mean waffle.  

Lisa was a grade ahead of me and when she moved away, I was devastated.  I didn't know how I would 

make it in Jr. High without her.  I did it, but it wasn't easy.  I visited Lisa every chance I got.   

She moved to a place where it snowed and we took advantage of sledding in the great outdoors.   

Time passed and the letters dissipated.  Then I moved even farther away, to another state and it got 

harder to maintain our friendship.  We were learning how to navigate high school, boys, 

peer pressure, life.  We were figuring out who we were and that takes a lot of time and energy.  When 

I visited California I would see Lisa and marvel at how much she changed.  She got so tall!  But for all 

the changing we were doing, going from girls to young women, Lisa didn't stop being my friend.   

The girl I grew up with was still there, thank goodness.  Now we talk once or twice a year.  We live in 

different states and far from where we grew up.  We both married men named John and we both have 

beautiful girls of our own.  We've experienced significant loss but know God has a plan for us.  We 

know we aren't each others BFFs anymore and that's okay.  We're still friends and love each other.   

It's the sweetest end to an era when it fades but doesn't leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

 
Lisa, Me, Dave (the eldest bro)  See, Lisa got way taller!

 I still have the half of my “Best Friend Forever” necklace that Lisa gave me. I don't remember when 

she gave it to me.  I don't remember if it was for a birthday or Christmas or when she moved.  It really 

doesn't matter.  It’s one of my prized possessions.  I still have the card she made me when I got the 

chicken pox, also a prized possession.  I cherish the fact she came to my wedding, and regret I couldn't 

make it to hers. No matter what, I had an amazing childhood and one of the biggest parts of that was 

because of Lisa.  I know my daughter may not have this current BFF, Madeline, forever, but her 

memories are starting now.  She's learning what it means to be a friend.  I'm glad I had someone like 

Lisa to help me learn how to be a friend. 

 

 

She Still Teaches

I sat around a lot today.  A lot.  I watched Rylee play at a birthday party.  I watched Rylee play at a park.  I watched Rylee draw while we waited for John to do something at work.  I sat in the car while John took Rylee into a store so she could pick out a Mother's Day gift for me.  I sat around a lot today.  By the end of the day I was spent.  Sitting shouldn't make you tired, well it can whether you're 27 weeks pregnant or not.  If your brain isn't being stimulated, your whole body gets pooped.  I wasn't angry about my day, a little frustrated, but not angry.  Of course I would rather have been doing something a little more fun than waiting on everyone else.  I wait on my husband and kid most days now.  It's part of my life.  I'm not complaining, just acknowledging a fact.  When you are a stay at home mom, without the luxury of extreme wealth, you realize your job is your family.  It's not a chore, it's privilege.  You have to remind yourself of that fact sometimes. 

My mom pregnant with me, Jessica the Magnificent.

There are lots of moms out there who would rather stay at home to be with their kids.  Some are married, but still have to work.  I was there, I did that.  Some moms are on their own and working more than one job.  I cannot conceive how hard that must be for them.  I try to think of them on the days I want to get away from my kid.  I love my daughter, obviously, but if your entire day consisted of the company of only a six-year old, you might find yourself talking to strangers at the grocery store more often than is probably normal. 

Brand new mama, October 1978

I am now in a position where John and I are making life work without me having to actually go to work.  My mom stayed at home with my sister, brother, and I for a long time.  I have no complaints about my childhood.  It seemed pretty fun to me.  Here I am, on some days, exhausted by my one daughter, and I stop and think about my mom.  She had three to look after.  Granted, when there are multiple kids, they do a great job of occupying each other.  But there are moments when kids need something more.  For my siblings and I, it was water.  We were either in the pool or at the beach.  My mom watched three kids at the pool or at the beach a lot.  Sometimes more than three kids, if one of us brought a friend along.  Snacks, sunscreen, toys, sandy butts, tar covered toes, seagulls, towels blowing away, sunburns.  How did she do that without losing her mind?!  

I'm sure I never cried, and was always an angel.

I know I went through a phase where I could not sleep when it was bed time.  I would sneak and try to watch TV through this triangular shaped whole that was on our stairs.  I have no way to explain what that looked like, but I can tell you I was good at not getting caught.  The few times my parents did catch me I couldn't understand why they got so mad at me for being out of bed.  Sheesh, can't a girl watch a little Carson before bed?!  Yea, I get it now.  I get the yelling, "Back to bed now!"  Dad worked a hard day at the Gas Company.  Mom put up with our shenanigans all day, they wanted us to go away.  And then mom went back to work full-time after Caleb was in school.  How the hell did she do that?!  I still can't figure it out.  Now I understand the urgency in which my parents left for a weekend retreat with our church.  I can't prove it, but I'm pretty sure they skipped to the car while we were inside crying with a baby sitter.  And I swear the tires peeled out of the drive way as they left the house.

I have been so blessed to have so many amazing women in my life, who at one point or another have been there for me as if they were my own mom.  Those moms know who they are.  Over the years they may have received a mother's day card or two from me.  It's not out of obligation that I send them a card, but out of love and thanks for the love they have given me in their own unique way.

My mom, however, is the mom I admire most.  She's the mom I strive to be.  I remember being in the check-out line at a grocery store and watching my mom strike up a conversation with a stranger.  A seed was planted.  If my mom can laugh with a perfect stranger, so can I.  I have made friends this way.  Rylee sees me talk and laugh with strangers now.  Sometimes she asks if I know them as we are headed to the car.  I tell her no, but it's okay because that's how you meet people.  I tell her that if she's with me it's okay to talk to strangers, because you never know, you might be blessing them, or they might bless you.  My mom taught me friendship. 

October 2005

My mom has faced many struggles in her life.  Many of those she faced while being a mom.  Through all of those "character building" moments, my mom never stopped being there for me.  During many of the difficult things she was going through, I was too young to understand she could have used a break from us kids.  She didn't stop being my mom just because she was sad, upset, angry, hurt, or grieving.  The hardest thing about my brother's recent passing is seeing the hurt it has caused my parents.  I am a mom now.  I don't want to experience the pain my mom has experienced due to losing a child.  The past months my whole family has grieved in different ways.  I am now realizing I have put some of my grieving on hold, and I believe it's because I have had no choice.  I can't tell my daughter to go away because I want to lay in bed and not do anything.  I can't schedule a weekend where I send my daughter off to her aunt's so I can plan on grieving.  It doesn't work that way, I don't operate like that.  My mom has still been there for me when I have need to cry or vent or laugh, even in the midst of her own grief.

My mom taught me grace.

Three Generations

I don't remember the year, but I remember the gift.  There was a Mother's Day when my dad took us kids to pick something out for our mom.  I don't know what store we went to, but it was something like JCPenney's.  There it was, on a round display table with 100 other jewels just like it.  A "Genuine Austrian Crystal" clad heart-shaped pendant.  It sparkled like the Hope Diamond.  I had no idea what the Hope Diamond was back then, but now I know the cheap glass jewelry we saw was better than any real precious stone in the whole world.  "Dad, this is it!  This is what we want to get her!  Please Dad!  Pleeeeaaaasseeee!!!"  I don't remember if he hesitated, I don't remember what it cost, it doesn't matter, Dad paid for it.  It was probably $16.99, which to us was incredibly expensive because we had no concept of money.  And because we thought it was incredibly expensive, it made the present for mom that much more exciting.  Surely she would gasp, she would faint, she'd regain consciousness and cry tears of joy.  She'd hold us in her arms weeping over our generosity and impeccable taste.  Was is too much to think she might never make us do chores again?  One could hope!  But we didn't let ourselves get ahead of ourselves.  After all, this was mom's special day.  We couldn't think about our selfish dreams of not having to actually pick up after ourselves.  Do I remember the moment we gave it to her?  Nope, nothing.  Where is that "Genuine Austrian Crystal" clad heart-shaped pendant you ask?  In her jewelry box, missing several "Genuine Austrian Crystals", but it's still around.  

An Original Masterpiece by Rylee Roemer - May 11, 2013

My best Mother's Day memory as a mom, so far, was when Rylee walked a card over to me from across our living room.  She had just started walking so it was a very big deal.  I cried the happiest tears you can think of.  She's six now and this is the second year she has been excited to get me something.  Last year she set out to find me a necklace that had MOM and a heart on it.  John said she was waiting to find the right necklace.  She found one, and I love it.  I really do wear it.  It's after midnight as I finish writing this, now Mother's Day, so I don't know what she got for me yet, but it doesn't matter, I know I'll love it.  The thing that is making me so happy right now is that she is learning to read and write.  She has an amazing and detailed imagination.  When she is left to her own devices, she draws the cutest things and has the best stories to go with them.  In the midst of all that waiting I did today, Rylee surprised me with a drawing that brought me to tears.  The picture above is her giving me my Mother's Day gift and she drew me with a surprised face.  She didn't have to explain the picture, it's obvious what she was trying to convey.  And the words, "Happy Mother's Day" aren't perfectly spelled, but she's doing exactly what she should be doing, trying.  The "I love my mom", well, no words are necessary to explain how precious that is to me.

My mom taught me how to be a mom.

April 2013

Denial Ain't Just a River in Egypt

I've had three dreams about my brother since he passed away. 

The first dream some people are trying to take my car.  They are saying if Caleb doesn't show up, they are going to take it away.  Just as they are getting ready to leave, Caleb shows up.  He's smiling.  I say, "Look you guys, he's right there!  See no worries!  I told you he'd be here!"  I woke up.

The next dream I was at a mall, it was empty except for the people I was with.  I don't know who the people were.  At the end of the mall, Caleb came walking around a corner, smiling.  I looked at him stunned.  I knew I should be shocked to see him.  Instantaneously he transformed into someone else.  I knew in my dream I was hallucinating.  I turned to the people I was with and said, "Well, I've had my first hallucination.  I know this is a dream but I actually hallucinated."  I woke up.

The most recent dream, I was in a school auditorium.  I was with my family, like we were waiting for a performance to start.  Caleb showed up smiling and handing each of us a piece of heart shaped chocolate for Valentine's Day.  He had just come from the store where he purchased it.  Then he was sitting next to us and I was looking down the row past my other family at him.  He was just listening to everyone chat as he smiled.  I just stared at him, so happy happy to see him.  I woke up.

I am not thinking about him every second of the day.  I can't, I won't.  I've got stuff to do.  He pops into my thoughts randomly.  I don't always cry when I think about him.  I cried when I saw a friend put a picture of her brother on Facebook as he was celebrating his 30th birthday.  Caleb and this guy hung out when they were kids.  What made me cry was that I would never get to celebrate another one of Caleb's birthdays.  Then I realized, I don't remember the last time I was with Caleb on his birthday.  He didn't want to do anything for his 30th, that bummed out my sister and I, a lot.

I have thought I should write something like my Aunt Rita has been doing.  It's been so wonderful reading her thoughts about Caleb.  Knowing that someone else hasn't stopped thinking about Caleb is comforting.  I have hesitated to write for fear it would be looked at as a way to get attention.  I know the friends and family who know me would say that's ridiculous, but it still crossed my mind.  I haven't wanted to bring anyone else down with my pain and grief.  Everyone is going through rough stuff right now.  But when I've sat down to write, no words have come.  Tonight I feel like my brain is forcing me to write even though my heart doesn't want to, like my brain knows something my heart doesn't.

I had one bad day after I got back from Kansas City, where I couldn't stop crying.  It was strange, I don't recall ever experiencing anything like it.  I just couldn't stop crying.  I wanted to, I wanted to move on, but I literally couldn't stop.  The next day, I was fine.

I have never lost anyone so close to me.  I have never truly experienced the five stages of grief.  Now I can tell you that I have experienced them over and over again.  They come in bursts and each one lasts a different amount of time.  The exception is anger.  I am not angry.  I am not angry at Caleb at all.  And I know it's okay that I'm not angry.  I know he didn't do this to hurt anyone.  I just understand.  I am not saying I know what was in his head at the time he took his life.  I just understand.  He's truly at peace now.  His brain isn't wrestling anymore.  I'm okay with that.  I am disappointed he won't be around for any family gatherings.  I am bummed he won't see Rylee grow up.  I am sad he won't get to meet my new baby.  I am sad because I will never have a picture with both my siblings or my cousins and my siblings at the same time.  I am frustrated for what my parents have had to endure since he left.  I miss him, I love him, but I'm not angry at Caleb.

I have had so many encouraging emails, cards, and conversations come my way.  I always felt like when I said, "So sorry for your loss" to someone when they had lost a loved one, that it was meaningless to them.  Not that they were ungrateful, but how could my pitiful words bring any comfort to them?  I will tell you, now having been on the receiving end of those words, THEY DO MEAN SOMETHING.  THEY DO HELP.  Just reading the comments people have posted on my wall on Facebook was so wonderful.  It really did help!  Thank you!

I just had a conversation with my friend, Shara.  After a little while a thought of mine rose to the service and I realized I was upset about it but hadn't actually said it before.  "God, why would I go through over two years of trying to conceive a baby, for you to bless me with a second pregnancy, and then you take away my brother?"  I felt like I could handle everything but that, I just didn't know it until I was talking to Shara.  I'll sum up what she said to the best of my recollection.  "God knew this was going to happen.  He knew you'd suffer this loss.  He also knew what joy that baby is going to bring when it's born.  Your family needs that joy."  Yea, that covered my heart.  I cried tears of relief.  Okay God, I have faith in your amazing timing.  I have witnessed it and experienced it for as long as I can remember.  I know He has more amazing things to come.

I think a part of what the dreams mean is about the denial stage and how I don't want to leave it.  Yes, I want to move on, I don't want to be sad.  But if you stay in denial, you are telling yourself there's a chance the mess isn't real.  For many days I kept thinking someone was going to call me and tell me it never happened, that Caleb was okay, and this was all a huge mistake.  I know that won't happen, but I think those dreams are my heart's way of saying it didn't happen, ""Look you guys, he's right there!  See no worries!  I told you he'd be here!"

Caleb is not going to show up when I least expect it, well not physically.  He'll keep showing up in my thoughts and dreams.  And then he'll do that less and less.  I won't forget my brother, don't be silly.  I just know that's how life works, I will move on because that's what I'm supposed to do.  

I love you Caleb

What am I supposed to do with a wrapped Justin Bieber action figure?  It was one of three figures you were going to be the grateful owner of, and you would display them with pride I'm sure.  When your friends would come over and ask why you, a thirty-year old man, had three Justin Bieber action figures, you'd coolly reply, "Because my sister heard me say I couldn't stand the guy's music.  Now I have three of his actions figures, a notepad with JB's face on it, and a mini Christmas stocking she put my name on using glitter glue.  I know better than to say I dislike something like JB now."  And your friends would have said, "Your sister is funny and cool."  To which you would have replied, "Yes, yes she is."

I am wishing I would have made the present for you, that I had planned out in my mind.  I went so far as to buy some supplies to make it and even print out a picture I was going to use in the project.  It was going to say, "Eca Loves Bub."  Would it have changed the current circumstances?  I will never know.  But I would have had one last opportunity to show you I love you.

My recollection of our last conversation mainly involved me being brutally honest with you.  I told you if you were standing in front of me, I would actually punch you in the face.  You laughed and I told you I was serious.  I would literally punch you in the face for the pain and turmoil you've put your family through this last year.  You said ok.  I said I'm serious again.  You said you get it.  I said I hope you do get it because I really would.  I know there was lots more said in that conversation and I know I can't remember it and I know that will bother me forever.  I do know we both said I love you.  Had I known that would be the last time I spoke with you, well, I'd like to think it would have gone differently.  Let's be realistic, if it had gone any differently, it wouldn't have been real, it wouldn't have been an older sister talking to her younger brother telling him, get your head straight dude.

Now I'm sitting here, eyes swollen and stinging, trying to grasp what has happened to my family.  My family.  My family will never be the same.  I am beyond helpless right now.  Yes, I am sad you are gone and I can't call up my brother to talk about a movie or some cool new music I've discovered.  But I'm more sad for our parents.  I am a parent now, so the pain our parents are feeling is the most horrific thing I don't want to imagine.  Why didn't you call them?  Why didn't you call me?  Why didn't you call Jocelyn?  Why didn't you call somebody?  There are more questions then there will ever be answers.  I know that, I just don't understand that.

You were supposed to meet my new baby.  You were supposed to buy my baby a super cool onesie like you did for Rylee.  This time you were going to meet my baby in a normal place like the hospital or my house.  You met Rylee at a truck stop when you were learning how to be a truck driver.  Actually, that was pretty funny.

I am going to miss your laugh.  When you really laughed at something I said, man, that made my heart happy.  That added life to my soul.

Sorry I bossed you around a lot when we were kids.  Jocelyn and I made you go get us things quite a bit.  You did it so willingly, we just figured it was your job.  Sorry I punched you in the nose and made it bleed when you wouldn't leave the fort I made for myself in the garage. 

Thanks for making cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning.  Thanks for always being super cool around my friends.  I love that my friends liked hanging around with you.  Thanks for introducing me to Kerouac, Steinbeck, Melville, and Miles Davis.  Thanks for going to concerts with me.  Thanks for the goofy things you'd do in pictures so I could use up some film.

I'm running out of words right now.  I know I won't be able to go to sleep tonight but my brain doesn't want to think about this day anymore.

I want to think about swimming in the summer so much that our hair had a green tint to it.  How we convinced Mom to take us swimming for the fourth day in a row.  Then we would run upstairs singing the Pointer Sisters' song "I'm So Excited" as we stripped and left our clothes behind like a bread crumb trail on the stairs and got in our bathing suits so fast, it was like we hadn't been swimming in a month.

I want to think about how you hid on the top shelf in the linen closet when we played hide 'n seek.  You climbed like a monkey and contorted to fit in that small space like a carnival attraction.
I want to think about our attempt at a haunted house in the ginormous room the three of us shared.  You would squeeze behind your hide-a-bed drawer so you could push it out as if a ghost propelled it.  We'd make oooh-ahhh noises from our hiding places convinced we were scaring Mom and Dad.  We impressed ourselves.

The day you rode your bike like 37 miles as if it was a walk in the park.  
I want to think about you, the genius, who couldn't figure out how to buckle the seat belt in my '82 VW Rabbit.  Remember we named that car together?
Your epic house of cards/candy house you made.  Now that was thinking outside the box.  I was so bummed I missed the part where you blew it up.

The day Beatrice the orange cat brought home a squealing injured bunny.  You took care of it when Dad wasn't home.  It was the manly thing to do and you stepped up.

In the summer, when Mom was at work, we'd made our morning trips to Albertson's to acquire two-liter bottles of Sunkist (one for each of us), sourdough bread, turkey, and Big League Chew.  We made sandwiches, watched 101 Dalmatians, drank Sunkist until our eyeballs vibrated, and then attempted to fit the entire bag of B.L.C. into our mouths.  We quickly realized we couldn't chew the whole bag and lost all it because we had to spit it out. 

I will never forget you making a sandcastle with Rylee the first time she went to the beach.  She taped this picture up in her room just the other day.  She said, when she looked at it, she missed you.  I said I did too, but we would see you soon since we didn't get to spend Christmas together.   How strange to think the next day I would find out I would miss you forever.

I believe you knew you were loved.  I believe you loved our family.  But my heart is broken, and I know it will never be the same without you, I don't know any other way to say it.

1+1=35

1977

I had a little chat with my mom the other day.  The subject of God came up.  Sometimes I know my mom worries about my soul.  Every once in a while I have to remind her I'm okay.  I may not be in church every Sunday, or any Sunday for the past four years.  (I did go once with Mindy when I visited Colorado in 2008.)  Despite my absence record in church, my faith has never been shaken. 

Honeymoon

I don't quote scripture to anyone, not because I'm ashamed, I just don't memorize anything.  I'm not afraid to share a scripture, but I would be embarrassed if I got the scripture wrong in my attempt to encourage someone.  I make it very clear to whom ever I am talking to that I am not religious.  Make all the jokes you want, but I have a relationship with the Lord.  I once made a very public and in writing statement about something the Lord did for me.  Man did that come back to bite me.  I actually had more than one person ask me if I was in a cult as a result of that letter.  The awkwardness I felt after that letter most certainly kept me from sharing on such a large scale again.  Well, except now.  BUT, my faith stayed the same. 

Agape Banquet

2001 - 24th Anniv.

 I fail God everyday, He NEVER fails me.  

2007 - 30th Anniv.

The way I let people know He's real is by telling the awesome things He has done for me.  Trusting the Lord doesn't mean you will always have a good outcome to a bad situation, it just means you will make it through that bad situation. 
 

Feb. 2012

I know God is real because my parents are still married.  

My parents are celebrating 35 years of marriage on September 17, 2012.

And she's off!

Why are you waking me up this early?

My Godmother, Mindy sent me flowers!

I can't believe you got me a fish!

She talked to her fish the whole time she ate her breakfa

The time has come.  A new chapter.  A big chapter.  The kindergarten chapter.  I knew this day was coming when Rylee was just several months old.  I had dropped her off at daycare before heading to work.  I was driving by an elementary school I always drove past.  But on this day they had a sign up in front of the school letting parents know the time to register their kids for kindergarten was coming up.  I panicked.  I don't know how to register a kid for kindergarten!  There was nothing about this in the baby books I read.  Okay the one book I read.  Okay, the one book I skimmed occasionally.  Oh no, I should have read the books!  I don't want to be an adult!  I just want to make a u-turn, pick up Rylee, call in sick forever, and cuddle with Rylee.  We can play all day and no one has to get hurt.  I know, I'll call Mindy (aka my best friend who talks me off of the occasional ledge) she'll know what to do.  Mindy proceeds to speak to me in soothing tones and says, "Jess, it's okay.  You've got about five years before Rylee needs to be registered for kindergarten.  You probably are still dealing with hormones being out of control since your pregnancy.  Calm down and breathe."

Logically I know I'm ready.  As far as school supplies, I'm ready.  Emotionally, come on, we both know the answer to that stupid question.  It's not like I'm hiding in my closet curled up in the fetal position crying about the fact my daughter will not be in my sight every minute of the day.  Well not yet.  Realistically it's not the part where she's not in my sight all day that is troubling me, it's the thought that she could be picked on.  She could be teased.  She could say something in front of her whole class and they could laugh at her and she could cry.  What if she falls on the playground and the school nurse calls me but I'm in the bathroom and don't hear the phone ring and Rylee has to wait in the office and she's crying and scared?  Oh my God why do we send our kids to kindergarten!  It's not okay!  I'm not ready!  Let's calm down and be rational.  She's not going to college yet.  I'm not sending her to another country for a foreign exchange program.  She's not running off to travel abroad and find herself, where she meets a creepy guy named Paolo and tells me she's in love.  She's going to kindergarten for almost three hours a day.  No big deal right?  Why is this so scary?

Oh how I loved the Care Bears!

Rylee will encounter peer pressure.  (I'm not thinking anything serious in kindergarten, like drugs, but maybe someone dares her to jump off of something that could result in a broken bone.)  Rylee might have a kid in her class that is mean to her for no reason, or worse, Rylee might be mean to a kid for no reason. 

Mom, what were you thinking when this outfit was chosen?
If I picked it, you shouldn't have let me. If you did, well, you know I'll be sending you the therapy bill.

Becky and I with the girls in September of 2007.
We still can't believe how fast time flies.

My sister in-law, Becky, and I were discussing this milestone the other night and shedding some tears thinking about the big change that is about to happen to our families.  My niece, Makenah, is starting kindergarten as well.  Becky said, "We are about to let more people into our lives.  Kids, parents, and teachers."  Ugh, do we have to?

 We, Rylee's family, won't be the only voices speaking into her life.

This is the most terrifying part of starting school.

Later mom!  I'm too excited to be scared!

I can look back and remember a teacher who influenced me, impacted my life in some intense way that made me never forget them.  Thank you Mrs. Parodi, where ever you are.

My kindergarten class.  Mrs. Linden on the right. 
And there I am on the top right, unaware that red and purple really don't go together.

I remember my kindergarten teacher very well.  I am so blessed to still be in contact with her.  She taught my sister, my brother, and myself.  Her name is Mrs. Lee Linden.  She sent me a copy of "Life's Little Instruction Book" when I graduated high school.  She sent Rylee a copy of "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" when she was born.  I have moved a lot in my life.  Fortunately my family wasn't moving when I was in school, so I was able to attend the same elementary school until it was time for Jr. High.  All the teachers I had back then were able to see me grow.  I want that for Rylee.  I want teachers I trust, in her life.  They don't have to have the same religious or political views as me, I just want to trust them.

C'mon Dad! This is the only time I'll be cool
with you riding the bus with me.

Wow, trust, a small word, but a very heavy one.  I have to trust myself.  I have to trust that Rylee will remember the things I've taught her about manners and listening.  I have to trust that she'll make wise choices on the playground.  I have to trust she'll do the right thing if she sees a kid getting picked on.  I know this isn't the end of teaching my daughter, it's just the beginning of finding out if she's been listening to me. 

  

5 Going on 15

For those of you with a girl who has a little while before she reaches the milestone of turning five, this might be a small warning, no insight, into the intensity that your princess will be facing. I have been told that girls start to battle an onslaught of hormones around this time. Well I don't know all the scientific facts about that statement but I can tell you a storm has been brewing in the Roemer house since Smylee Rylee blew out her candles. Emotional seems like an understatement. The crying is intense. The mood swings will give you whip lash. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about, but at least we know why it's happening, and we may not be able to communicate in the middle of our sobbing drama, but we do have the vocabulary to explain what we're upset about at some point. And if we can't explain it, we apologize and try to laugh it off. "Sorry about that! Don't know where that came from! Didn't mean to bite your head off! I promise not to threaten your life again." Well, you have to ride this insane emotional roller coaster with your darling girl and be as patient as you can. Trust me, you'll wish you could just drop her off at the park and go get a smoothie while she rides the ups and downs.

As frustrating as this new chapter in our lives has been, there are moments of brevity. While driving home from running errands today, a song came on the radio. Rylee told me when she hears it she thinks of when she first got Mooty. (Mooty is the most beloved of all her stuffed animals. I wrote a previous story about the time Mooty was lost and then found. Very dramatic and triumphant story of love and courage in the face of loss and, okay, not really. But it was really upsetting at the time.) I am going to include the chorus lyrics to the song so you can get an idea of just how serious her love for Mooty is.

"A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri

I have died everyday waiting for you

Darling don't be afraid I have love you

For a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more