Dear Future Birth Mamma.
I thought about you today.
I think about you every day. I have thought about what I would say to
you on the day my baby is born, the words never come out right. So in a
meager attempt to not butcher them, I'm going to try it now while I'm
not in the haze of the moments. Forgive me if they are not the right
words. No one prepares you to show this type of gratitude, or provides
the right vocabulary to express the level of appreciation I have.
Maybe this is counting the chicken before it hatches................here it goes.
People
go through this life looking for miracles. In great tragedy, people
look for silver linings in order to cope. I look at miracles like
Galileo did. Every morning the sun warmed his face, redundant,
consistent, predictable. Although the Greek had regarded the sun as a
"heavenly body" it went unstudied. Galileo was fascinated, he saw it as
incredible and grossly understated. This man studied the sun almost
religiously. While under house arrest for heresy Galileo used a piece of
bent glass (that he discovered) to see the sun in closer detail. He is
responsible for the discovery of sun spots and identifying critical
characteristics that are regarded as strong scientific theory still to
this day. Even with the modern technology, Galileo is regarded as the
leading scientist in stellar astronomy.
This man went blind.
Blind.
This
man went blind in the study that proved that the sun was in
fact.....not perfect.The heavenly body was flawed. Dark spots covered
the surface in irregular patterns. In addition to "disproving" the
Grecian view of the sun, he also proved that the earth was not the
center of the universe. It could be said that his life work refutes
miracles by making the magnificent and heavenly......normal.
I think we have missed the mark in our interpretation.
Why can't they coincide as truths.
A flawed/heavenly body.
If
we consider the the average to have the potential of being heavenly, we
have an opportunity to see life in a different light.
If we sit
around and wait for heaven, anticipating some level of perfection, we
miss the beauty in the mistakes. Shadows don't cause darkness, standing
to warm your face in the morning sun will cast a shadow, creating
darkness where light is absorbed. The dark is part of the light. One
can't exist without the other.
Knowing great pain provides opportunity to know great love.
This is going to hurt you.
Being
the mother of my child is going to cause you great pain. You are
staring at the sun. If I had the opportunity to provide a shade for you,
I wouldn't. With great pain, comes great love. I can't understand the
depth of this for you. Nor would I ever pretend to.
Only time
will be able to provide for you what you need for your heart to feel
anything other than blaring hurt. I will do whatever I can to support
you through this, even if that means sliding out of sight. Whatever it
takes, I will do.
Please don't ever forget that in
your darkness, great light is absorbed. This is a divine gift you have
given our family. A gift that is second to none, and never question for a
moment our gratitude and love for you. To me, you are a heavenly body.
To me, you are perfect.
I won't let you down.
With unconditional love and appreciation,
Carrie Mae
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Pile o' paperwork
We have decided, as we move forward that going through the state for our paperwork and other such hoops, is the best option for our family. After meeting with the social worker, at my kitchen table, the feeling I got from her was overwhelmingly warm, and inviting. We discussed what it would take to become a parent to a ward of the State, or any other child for that matter.
The list is long.
What we found out is that essentially all avenues; agencies, private, state....etc. utilize the same general standards for adoption. You are required to show ability in being able to raise a child. The difference with going through the State of Utah, is added requirements. One of which is a class. We are required to take parenting classes, specifically on how to parent a child with trauma. The word "trauma" spilled out of the social workers mouth like it had taken up residence on her tongue. Through her line of work she had said it a million times, but to me, it's sharp. Extremely sharp. I just so happen to be the mother of a little boy, who has suffered extreme trauma already in his short life, despite my tireless efforts to prevent it, and protect him. I know beyond any shadow of a doubt that the class is not meant for parents who have lost a child, but more for parents who plan on raising a child who has experienced hardship. The hardships range anywhere from mild neglect to severe physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. The way the child will react varies dramatically from child to child. I want to take the class, for Weston......for me.......for any children I may be able to mother in the future.
Although I would like to claim to be an evolved adult, who has come a long way in life; I feel as though it is ignorant to stand on such a pedestal. We all have something to learn, something to help us grow on an individual level. Seeking it out, in the form of education, spiritual search, or any other manner really shows our willingness to be humble.
I am humbled by life.
I am a student of this ever changing universe. I stand in gracious awe on the beach, and feel the shore wash out from under me....just to rediscover it again, and again.
I look at parenting in a similar way. The child you raised today will be a different child tomorrow; a day older, bigger, stronger, faster and hopefully more capable. You grow together. It's a great reason to look at every day as an individual moment in time, suspended and waiting to be grabbed. If you miss, the sun will come up again tomorrow, keep grabbing.
I guess the point of this rant is patience, and perseverance. I'm willing to put in the work, be patient, and let the sand wash away.....but I want another child.
As far as the pile o'paperwork goes, we have started on it. Working through each page, making certain that we have considered all aspects of bringing another child into our lives. Our certification classes will start in December, and we will complete all of the necessary hoop jumping by then.
For subsequent posts, I think I will expand on some of the questions we are asked in the paperwork, to give a more in depth response to the questions that I can't possibly answer on a three line answer space.Some of which are extremely in depth questions, such as religion, philosophy, outlook, etc.
I love you all.
Carrie Mae
The list is long.
What we found out is that essentially all avenues; agencies, private, state....etc. utilize the same general standards for adoption. You are required to show ability in being able to raise a child. The difference with going through the State of Utah, is added requirements. One of which is a class. We are required to take parenting classes, specifically on how to parent a child with trauma. The word "trauma" spilled out of the social workers mouth like it had taken up residence on her tongue. Through her line of work she had said it a million times, but to me, it's sharp. Extremely sharp. I just so happen to be the mother of a little boy, who has suffered extreme trauma already in his short life, despite my tireless efforts to prevent it, and protect him. I know beyond any shadow of a doubt that the class is not meant for parents who have lost a child, but more for parents who plan on raising a child who has experienced hardship. The hardships range anywhere from mild neglect to severe physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. The way the child will react varies dramatically from child to child. I want to take the class, for Weston......for me.......for any children I may be able to mother in the future.
Although I would like to claim to be an evolved adult, who has come a long way in life; I feel as though it is ignorant to stand on such a pedestal. We all have something to learn, something to help us grow on an individual level. Seeking it out, in the form of education, spiritual search, or any other manner really shows our willingness to be humble.
I am humbled by life.
I am a student of this ever changing universe. I stand in gracious awe on the beach, and feel the shore wash out from under me....just to rediscover it again, and again.
I look at parenting in a similar way. The child you raised today will be a different child tomorrow; a day older, bigger, stronger, faster and hopefully more capable. You grow together. It's a great reason to look at every day as an individual moment in time, suspended and waiting to be grabbed. If you miss, the sun will come up again tomorrow, keep grabbing.
I guess the point of this rant is patience, and perseverance. I'm willing to put in the work, be patient, and let the sand wash away.....but I want another child.
As far as the pile o'paperwork goes, we have started on it. Working through each page, making certain that we have considered all aspects of bringing another child into our lives. Our certification classes will start in December, and we will complete all of the necessary hoop jumping by then.
For subsequent posts, I think I will expand on some of the questions we are asked in the paperwork, to give a more in depth response to the questions that I can't possibly answer on a three line answer space.Some of which are extremely in depth questions, such as religion, philosophy, outlook, etc.
I love you all.
Carrie Mae
Monday, October 1, 2012
Family Bio- Me
I feel no reason to withhold information........so here comes the truth.
Growing up I looked around at all of the adult people around me, moving with fluidity and grace. I always as if maybe adulthood meant you reached a pinnacle of self awareness and personal success was no longer based on popularity and the social food chain, but was based on attainment of personal goals, and self satisfaction. I was wrong.
I was somewhat of a difficult teenager...........<<<<-----------------------------understatement of the millennium.
I was a mess. There were many nights I pushed the limits, broke the law, and survived by the seat of my pants. I always looked at myself as a somewhat evolved outsider, looking in on all of the perfect people moving in their circles. I grew up in what I considered to be a suffocatingly judgmental small town of 1500 people. I was one of very few who did not follow the same religious standards as the rest of the town. I was deemed a hellion and a bad kid and as such I began acting like one so the punishment fit the crime. I had a bout of alcohol abuse starting at the age of fifteen. although I never got into any drugs of any kind, I had a lively lifestyle with some questionable characters, at best. It was a time in my life where I wasn't focused so much on self discovery but proving to everyone I knew that I could do it just as good, if not better than anyone else. Although I was partying heavily, and drinking just as much I maintained my priorities in high school and managed to obtain excellent grades. I was a Sterling Scholar and was awarded several scholarships to Utah colleges. By the time it was time for college, I had decided to take advantage of an explosive real estate market and begin selling real estate. I did very very well........very well. The money rolled in, the parties got bigger, all while going to school and working at Denny's on the graveyard shift in order to supplement my income. I was busy.......very very busy.
Looking back, I'm not sure the drive was a way of getting ahead socially, more than it was an avoidance mechanism in an attempt to avoid relationships with people, mostly men. I went through a series of brutally abusive relationships. BRUTALLY ABUSIVE. Still to this day I shake my head at myself when I look in the mirror. Had it been a friend's boyfriend that had treated her that way, I would have never stood for it. I would have found a way to snap her out of being "in love" and made her realize that she deserved better.....that no one deserved to be treated that way. But for around two years I bounced from one abusive boyfriend to the other, trying to fix them, or make them love me in a way that made sense to me.
Many girls make the same mistake.
Just to be clear to all of you who may be getting abused.......You deserve better. He isn't going to change. Your scars will heal, you will move on, and someday you will find a man who will love and appreciate you for everything you are and will never demean you for everything you aren't. Let him go.
The insane lifestyle, multiple jobs, and school continued for what seemed a life time. But after a particularly horrible night; that lead to much self loathing in the morning, I decided to change that.
As I mentioned when I described Kenny, on January 1st, 2006 I made a vow to change my life. He made that possible. Kenny really is the nicest person on the planet. He met me and never cast a judgment. I always considered boys like him to be unattainable to girls like me. We were just on different levels.
He took me home to meet his Grandma- stick a fork in me, I was done. I basically floated home and told my roommate at the time I was getting married. She laughed so hard that a frothy beverage came out of her nose........She wasn't so convinced.
Within a few months, Still going to school, Still selling real estate, and STILL working at Denny's we were married, and I was pregnant with our first son Kole.
................
I finished my associates degree at Dixie State College and begged Kenny to let me get away from my haunted past that seemed to pop up in random places where we lived. I didn't want my son to ever know that pathetic version of his mamma, and I didn't want our lives tainted by that past. So we up and moved to Salt Lake.
Salt Lake was a journey.....a learning experience. I quit all of my jobs, and scored a position at Sportsman's Warehouse in Midvale. Mostly for insurance, but I also liked how much my husband would come and visit me at work. :) The pregnancy went well, I was gigantic.....I'm not kidding........HUGE. Salt Lake was suffocating Kenny....he lives for the mountains and fresh air, we found ourselves watching every episode of "Scrubs" and sitting on the couch way more than we ever should have. Granted we had no money to do anything else, but still, in the midst of starting a new family, the sedentary life wasn't cutting it.
Then Kole was born.
I could have spent the rest of my life in that 600 square foot apartment just looking at him. I quit my job at Sportsman's to be a stay at home mom. For me it was a simple choice.......he was a simple choice. I remember many many hours spent watching him sleep in my arms. Perfect. There wasn't a single night I didn't rock my baby to sleep. Not one.
When he was about two months old, I started school at Western Governors University, working towards a teaching degree. The school was online so it could be done when Kole was sleeping, or when I had spare time. I made very little progress in the first year, but I did make some. I always told myself that the day I graduated, I could look at my son and say, "this is important, no matter what, be educated." I'd have a leg to stand on, rather than saying, "I got pregnant, and I quit." Education is a cornerstone of my life.
One morning an armed man tried breaking into our apartment while I laid in bed with my son. I moved out the next day. Salt Lake wasn't where we were supposed to be.
We ended up in the Uinta Basin, Utah. Redneck, hole in the wall, middle of nowhere, USA. I love this place. The mountains sing here. The sunshine skips off of the grass tops and lights up a field like a million fireflies holding still for you to admire them. It really is an amazing place. Portions of it remind me of home, and a childhood spent in the dirt, with sticks. I wanted my kids to play in dirt, I wanted them to appreciate a good sunset, and learn to catch a frog.
We bought a house in the smallest town I had ever lived in, 500 people, Neola, Utah. I became pregnant with our second child, Weston. And as our family grew, so did our hearts.
Weston's pregnancy was very turbulent and after we FINALLY got him here safe, we decided pregnancies were a poor idea on our part. Kenny and I both took the necessary steps to ensure conception didn't happen again. At that point in our lives we discussed the desire for more children in the future, and decided if we did make that choice, we would adopt.
We led a charmed life. Perfect really. I was going to school, had finished my Bachelor's degree with two babies, and had decided to fulfill my life long dream of having a master's degree. Honestly I just wanted people to call me master, but the prestigious nature of the credential was not lost on me.
In June 2011, my oldest son Kole was hit by a truck and killed. He was 4 years old. I was four feet away. I have never, and will never be the same.
I spent four years of my life devoted to this angel. Totally dissolved in his presence. The day he died was the worst day of my life, and it frequents my thoughts, still to this day. It will forever. There are times that I'm so overwhelmed with grief that breathing is a chore. The weight is incredible, and I'm constantly amazed that it can get worse with time, often times not better.
I sought out stability, in anything. I wanted the world to hold still so I could still find things in my world that clung to his scent. Pebbles in his pocket, and grass stains on the knees of his pants.
I found everything changing around me. Still moving. I am constantly one second further away from him, one step away. But I'm always one second closer to the next time I will be with him. I speak to God often about it, on my knees when it's the last place left to go. It is now the first place I go.
I have thought often to myself- I didn't believe in God until I had a baby, I didn't believe in Jesus until I lost one. I am a woman of faith. I have to be, or none of this is worth it. I believe without a shadow of a doubt that my son is still with me, I feel him. I talk to angels.
I don't ask why. It's a dead end road.
I am grateful for the pain. It's consistent. It doesn't change. I cling to it like a child to a blanket.
This is the speech I gave at my Son's funeral. Some of you have read it. It's the best I can do to describe that part of my life.
Many
of you might not have noticed this, but when a bailer drives past your
window, at midnight, through endless tears, it sounds like a heart
beating. The rhythmic sound filled my heart with peace, while I found
the strength to find the words I have been looking for since Wednesday.
This is the hardest thing I will ever have to go through. This is the hardest speech I will ever have to give. I have looked many places for guidance in finding the right words for this moment. While deep in prayer and overwhelmed with grief I pleaded with the Lord for help, I pleaded for his guidance and comfort. With clenched fists, and a shattered heart I held my breath waiting for something, anything to help me find my sanity and the will to survive the pain. My youngest son Weston came busting through the door, he grabbed me by the hand and said
“Mommy, get up.”
It
took one fleeting heart beat to know that I would not hear God answer
me in my prayers today, I would not see him with my eyes closed, and I
would not feel his love with my knees pressed to the ground alone in a
dark room. Although I have a firm faith in the power of prayer, I think
we often times spend too much time with our eyes closed and our knees
bent while looking for God and faith, and we miss him standing right in
front of us. For 6 days I have seen an outstanding showing of support
from not only friends and family, but people I’ve never met. When I
look at you today, I see God’s love. When you lined up to hug and
console my family, I felt God’s warmth. There are no words to describe
the gratitude I have towards all of you here today, and those of you
who couldn’t be here, but find your heart alongside mine. It is not
unnoticed, and it is not without my most sincere gratitude.
I believe that’s where this journey started. When he decided I was his mommy.
On
April 27, 2007 at 10:18 p.m. following 15 hours of induced labor, Kole
Jackson Mair came into the world. His first cry changed my life. 8
lbs. 8 oz. he was already a step ahead of the game. He was alert, and
strong. He was a veracious eater, and was wrapped in mine and Kenny’s
love from the moment he arrived. Aside from being dehydrated,
exhausted, 19 and terrified, I was elated to have this child in my
arms. The first conversation we ever had, following the labor and the
pain, included me saying the words “Will you be my baby forever.” Tiny
fingers clutched my pinky while tears of pure joy streamed down my
cheeks. I asked him that question every time I rocked him to sleep.
Many
people when faced with the death of a loved one, go through their
memories and pick out the ones they choose to regret. I won’t for a
second stand before you today and tell you I didn’t make mistakes as a
parent. I lost my temper, I lost my patience. I yelled, and I cried.
What I will tell you is that I spent every moment possible making sure
my kids knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I love them. We relished in
child hood, we found a comfort and a home that is far beyond the
possibilities of brick and mortar. I took my boys fishing all summer
long, usually with Wes strapped to my back, and Kole packing his
Lightning McQueen pole. We read stories, and I did my best to do funny
voices so they would learn to love to read, and feel the story, rather
than just hear it. I cried every time I left them somewhere, and I
never wanted to be without them. I spent every day teaching my sweet
child about life, love, anger, hate, fear, compassion, and empathy. Or
at least I thought I was the one teaching. Son I am listening. Son I am
beginning to understand life, love, anger, hate, fear, compassion, and
empathy. I'm listening to the things that simply can't be heard. And
baby, I won’t let you down.
I won’t even begin to explain to you my pain. I have no interest in sharing it, or letting it go for now. The only thing stronger than my pain, is my love for my son. And I need to feel both, while I try to find a way to live again. For my little friends who are worried I will never be the same. Oh, Sweet babies, I won’t. My heart will never be the same. Part of it lies in a wooden box, on the side of a hill, watching the clouds in the day, and the stars in the night. But, on the other side of my life’s great tragedy, I will find love and hope that is deeper than I have ever felt before. I will spend more time chasing butterflies, and catching the sunshine.
Although I can’t explain my pain, I will explain to you are the gifts I have received in the last week.
I have a very clear sense of family. This group of people who have banded together to lift my family back to a state of living are phenomenal people who deserve all of the blessings there are to offer.
I know what fear is, and I know that I’m not scared. This Earth is a tough one, and as each day passes we must gain the strength to persevere.
I know that love conquers all. And together, we will move mountains. And if we can’t, we will leap frog over them.
I remember the pain I felt on the day you were born, it was intense, and felt like it would never end. But at the end of the hurt and the tears, I was blessed with new life. We must all begin a new process of labor. We will all feel the pain, and cry the tears, but I promise you when we make it to the end of the labor, there will be new life.
I’ve told many of you this before, and I will tell you again. Hold your babies when your arms are tired. Rock them to sleep, every night. Let them feel mud ooze between their toes, and coat their gentle skin. Skip down the road, even if someone might see you. Try to swing over the bar. Sing at the top of your lungs, with the window down and the radio blaring. When given the opportunity to choose between spending time with your child, and dealing with the logistics of life, pick your child. You will never regret the things you did, but you will always long for the things you didn’t do.
Author Unknown
Tiny Angel
Tiny Angel rest your wings
sit with me for awhile.
How I long to hold your hand,
And see your tender smile.
Tiny Angel, look at me,
I want this image clear....
That I will forget your precious face
Is my biggest fear.
Tiny Angel can you tell me,
Why you have gone away?
You weren't here for very long....
Why is it, you couldn't stay?
Tiny Angel shook his head,
"These things I do not know....
But I do know that you love me,
And that I love you so".
I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ,
Amen
Today-
today I am a survivor of my worst nightmare. Today, I wake up every single day of my life grateful for the opportunity to love everyone I see, smell every flower, and take in every sunset. I wake up grateful for every breath. I'm not just saying that, I really do. Loving someone is the riskiest move you will ever make. It has huge payouts, and the greatest losses. It's a move you will never regret, and even those who lose, win. I lost my child- Even typing those words are excruciating for me. My fingers know which buttons to push, but resist. Frozen. Punching it out one letter at a time doesn't make it any easier. Trying to find the buttons through an endless stream of tears is harder than you can imagine.
But this is who I am.
Losing him has defined me in many many ways. I'm the mamma of an angel in heaven, and an angel on earth. I can't help but feel blessed.
If you choose me to be the mother of your child, you need to understand where I've come from, where I'm trying to go. I cannot leave out the single most traumatic event of my life in hopes of hiding my broken heart.
When we started discussing adoption as a family, we had to explain to Weston that he can't have Koley back. That his brother's place in our hearts will never be filled with another child.
"I know," Weston said, "Koley is in heaven Mom, but we love everyone, we have a place in our hearts for another baby." .....followed by a long pause....."and we have a hoooooge house."
We have waited for almost a year and a half to even discuss adoption, in an attempt to make sure we were not trying to move our hurt into misguided love. We don't feel that way anymore. Our hurt is our hurt. It will never stop. We have room in our hearts for another baby. A baby who will grow up understanding that he or she has a big brother in heaven watching out for them in all that they do.
Growing up I watched people moving around me in fluid motion. I realize now that none of them have reached any sort of pinnacle, they have all just mastered the art of faking it to save face. We all have trials, we all have loss. Never judge someone based on their past, they don't live there anymore. Never judge someone on their presentation either, it's usually a facade. I have torn down all of the walls here, in an attempt to be as honest and real as possible. This may be damaging to our attempts to find a child, but I would never allow you to choose us under false pretenses.
We are a strong family, with strong family values and a love for each other that is unparallelled.
-Master Carrie Mae
Growing up I looked around at all of the adult people around me, moving with fluidity and grace. I always as if maybe adulthood meant you reached a pinnacle of self awareness and personal success was no longer based on popularity and the social food chain, but was based on attainment of personal goals, and self satisfaction. I was wrong.
I was somewhat of a difficult teenager...........<<<<-----------------------------understatement of the millennium.
I was a mess. There were many nights I pushed the limits, broke the law, and survived by the seat of my pants. I always looked at myself as a somewhat evolved outsider, looking in on all of the perfect people moving in their circles. I grew up in what I considered to be a suffocatingly judgmental small town of 1500 people. I was one of very few who did not follow the same religious standards as the rest of the town. I was deemed a hellion and a bad kid and as such I began acting like one so the punishment fit the crime. I had a bout of alcohol abuse starting at the age of fifteen. although I never got into any drugs of any kind, I had a lively lifestyle with some questionable characters, at best. It was a time in my life where I wasn't focused so much on self discovery but proving to everyone I knew that I could do it just as good, if not better than anyone else. Although I was partying heavily, and drinking just as much I maintained my priorities in high school and managed to obtain excellent grades. I was a Sterling Scholar and was awarded several scholarships to Utah colleges. By the time it was time for college, I had decided to take advantage of an explosive real estate market and begin selling real estate. I did very very well........very well. The money rolled in, the parties got bigger, all while going to school and working at Denny's on the graveyard shift in order to supplement my income. I was busy.......very very busy.
Looking back, I'm not sure the drive was a way of getting ahead socially, more than it was an avoidance mechanism in an attempt to avoid relationships with people, mostly men. I went through a series of brutally abusive relationships. BRUTALLY ABUSIVE. Still to this day I shake my head at myself when I look in the mirror. Had it been a friend's boyfriend that had treated her that way, I would have never stood for it. I would have found a way to snap her out of being "in love" and made her realize that she deserved better.....that no one deserved to be treated that way. But for around two years I bounced from one abusive boyfriend to the other, trying to fix them, or make them love me in a way that made sense to me.
Many girls make the same mistake.
Just to be clear to all of you who may be getting abused.......You deserve better. He isn't going to change. Your scars will heal, you will move on, and someday you will find a man who will love and appreciate you for everything you are and will never demean you for everything you aren't. Let him go.
The insane lifestyle, multiple jobs, and school continued for what seemed a life time. But after a particularly horrible night; that lead to much self loathing in the morning, I decided to change that.
As I mentioned when I described Kenny, on January 1st, 2006 I made a vow to change my life. He made that possible. Kenny really is the nicest person on the planet. He met me and never cast a judgment. I always considered boys like him to be unattainable to girls like me. We were just on different levels.
He took me home to meet his Grandma- stick a fork in me, I was done. I basically floated home and told my roommate at the time I was getting married. She laughed so hard that a frothy beverage came out of her nose........She wasn't so convinced.
Within a few months, Still going to school, Still selling real estate, and STILL working at Denny's we were married, and I was pregnant with our first son Kole.
................
I finished my associates degree at Dixie State College and begged Kenny to let me get away from my haunted past that seemed to pop up in random places where we lived. I didn't want my son to ever know that pathetic version of his mamma, and I didn't want our lives tainted by that past. So we up and moved to Salt Lake.
Salt Lake was a journey.....a learning experience. I quit all of my jobs, and scored a position at Sportsman's Warehouse in Midvale. Mostly for insurance, but I also liked how much my husband would come and visit me at work. :) The pregnancy went well, I was gigantic.....I'm not kidding........HUGE. Salt Lake was suffocating Kenny....he lives for the mountains and fresh air, we found ourselves watching every episode of "Scrubs" and sitting on the couch way more than we ever should have. Granted we had no money to do anything else, but still, in the midst of starting a new family, the sedentary life wasn't cutting it.
Then Kole was born.
I could have spent the rest of my life in that 600 square foot apartment just looking at him. I quit my job at Sportsman's to be a stay at home mom. For me it was a simple choice.......he was a simple choice. I remember many many hours spent watching him sleep in my arms. Perfect. There wasn't a single night I didn't rock my baby to sleep. Not one.
When he was about two months old, I started school at Western Governors University, working towards a teaching degree. The school was online so it could be done when Kole was sleeping, or when I had spare time. I made very little progress in the first year, but I did make some. I always told myself that the day I graduated, I could look at my son and say, "this is important, no matter what, be educated." I'd have a leg to stand on, rather than saying, "I got pregnant, and I quit." Education is a cornerstone of my life.
One morning an armed man tried breaking into our apartment while I laid in bed with my son. I moved out the next day. Salt Lake wasn't where we were supposed to be.
We ended up in the Uinta Basin, Utah. Redneck, hole in the wall, middle of nowhere, USA. I love this place. The mountains sing here. The sunshine skips off of the grass tops and lights up a field like a million fireflies holding still for you to admire them. It really is an amazing place. Portions of it remind me of home, and a childhood spent in the dirt, with sticks. I wanted my kids to play in dirt, I wanted them to appreciate a good sunset, and learn to catch a frog.
We bought a house in the smallest town I had ever lived in, 500 people, Neola, Utah. I became pregnant with our second child, Weston. And as our family grew, so did our hearts.
Weston's pregnancy was very turbulent and after we FINALLY got him here safe, we decided pregnancies were a poor idea on our part. Kenny and I both took the necessary steps to ensure conception didn't happen again. At that point in our lives we discussed the desire for more children in the future, and decided if we did make that choice, we would adopt.
We led a charmed life. Perfect really. I was going to school, had finished my Bachelor's degree with two babies, and had decided to fulfill my life long dream of having a master's degree. Honestly I just wanted people to call me master, but the prestigious nature of the credential was not lost on me.
In June 2011, my oldest son Kole was hit by a truck and killed. He was 4 years old. I was four feet away. I have never, and will never be the same.
I spent four years of my life devoted to this angel. Totally dissolved in his presence. The day he died was the worst day of my life, and it frequents my thoughts, still to this day. It will forever. There are times that I'm so overwhelmed with grief that breathing is a chore. The weight is incredible, and I'm constantly amazed that it can get worse with time, often times not better.
I sought out stability, in anything. I wanted the world to hold still so I could still find things in my world that clung to his scent. Pebbles in his pocket, and grass stains on the knees of his pants.
I found everything changing around me. Still moving. I am constantly one second further away from him, one step away. But I'm always one second closer to the next time I will be with him. I speak to God often about it, on my knees when it's the last place left to go. It is now the first place I go.
I have thought often to myself- I didn't believe in God until I had a baby, I didn't believe in Jesus until I lost one. I am a woman of faith. I have to be, or none of this is worth it. I believe without a shadow of a doubt that my son is still with me, I feel him. I talk to angels.
I don't ask why. It's a dead end road.
I am grateful for the pain. It's consistent. It doesn't change. I cling to it like a child to a blanket.
This is the speech I gave at my Son's funeral. Some of you have read it. It's the best I can do to describe that part of my life.
This is the hardest thing I will ever have to go through. This is the hardest speech I will ever have to give. I have looked many places for guidance in finding the right words for this moment. While deep in prayer and overwhelmed with grief I pleaded with the Lord for help, I pleaded for his guidance and comfort. With clenched fists, and a shattered heart I held my breath waiting for something, anything to help me find my sanity and the will to survive the pain. My youngest son Weston came busting through the door, he grabbed me by the hand and said
“Mommy, get up.”
I have
an image in my mind of an open field that seems to go forever. The sky
is a vivid blue with only a few white puffy clouds that float aimlessly
in the distant overhead. Every flower that God had ever taken the
time to sculpt and paint is strewn in beautiful disarray across a
welcome green background. A tiny path has been pushed through the
field, and winds from side to side, back and forth across this collage
of beauty. Although baby foot prints push the path, not a single flower
is crushed, not a single flower is left unappreciated. At the end of
the path, is my baby boy. His face is overcome with joy and pride as he
bends down to pick a simple dandelion. He picked me; nothing fancy,
nothing dramatically unique, but I was perfect for him, and he was
perfect for me.
I believe that’s where this journey started. When he decided I was his mommy.
I won’t even begin to explain to you my pain. I have no interest in sharing it, or letting it go for now. The only thing stronger than my pain, is my love for my son. And I need to feel both, while I try to find a way to live again. For my little friends who are worried I will never be the same. Oh, Sweet babies, I won’t. My heart will never be the same. Part of it lies in a wooden box, on the side of a hill, watching the clouds in the day, and the stars in the night. But, on the other side of my life’s great tragedy, I will find love and hope that is deeper than I have ever felt before. I will spend more time chasing butterflies, and catching the sunshine.
Although I can’t explain my pain, I will explain to you are the gifts I have received in the last week.
I have a very clear sense of family. This group of people who have banded together to lift my family back to a state of living are phenomenal people who deserve all of the blessings there are to offer.
I know what fear is, and I know that I’m not scared. This Earth is a tough one, and as each day passes we must gain the strength to persevere.
I know that love conquers all. And together, we will move mountains. And if we can’t, we will leap frog over them.
I remember the pain I felt on the day you were born, it was intense, and felt like it would never end. But at the end of the hurt and the tears, I was blessed with new life. We must all begin a new process of labor. We will all feel the pain, and cry the tears, but I promise you when we make it to the end of the labor, there will be new life.
I’ve told many of you this before, and I will tell you again. Hold your babies when your arms are tired. Rock them to sleep, every night. Let them feel mud ooze between their toes, and coat their gentle skin. Skip down the road, even if someone might see you. Try to swing over the bar. Sing at the top of your lungs, with the window down and the radio blaring. When given the opportunity to choose between spending time with your child, and dealing with the logistics of life, pick your child. You will never regret the things you did, but you will always long for the things you didn’t do.
Author Unknown
Tiny Angel
Tiny Angel rest your wings
sit with me for awhile.
How I long to hold your hand,
And see your tender smile.
Tiny Angel, look at me,I want this image clear....
That I will forget your precious face
Is my biggest fear.
Tiny Angel can you tell me,
Why you have gone away?
You weren't here for very long....
Why is it, you couldn't stay?
Tiny Angel shook his head,
"These things I do not know....
But I do know that you love me,
And that I love you so".
I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ,
Amen
Today-
today I am a survivor of my worst nightmare. Today, I wake up every single day of my life grateful for the opportunity to love everyone I see, smell every flower, and take in every sunset. I wake up grateful for every breath. I'm not just saying that, I really do. Loving someone is the riskiest move you will ever make. It has huge payouts, and the greatest losses. It's a move you will never regret, and even those who lose, win. I lost my child- Even typing those words are excruciating for me. My fingers know which buttons to push, but resist. Frozen. Punching it out one letter at a time doesn't make it any easier. Trying to find the buttons through an endless stream of tears is harder than you can imagine.
But this is who I am.
Losing him has defined me in many many ways. I'm the mamma of an angel in heaven, and an angel on earth. I can't help but feel blessed.
If you choose me to be the mother of your child, you need to understand where I've come from, where I'm trying to go. I cannot leave out the single most traumatic event of my life in hopes of hiding my broken heart.
When we started discussing adoption as a family, we had to explain to Weston that he can't have Koley back. That his brother's place in our hearts will never be filled with another child.
"I know," Weston said, "Koley is in heaven Mom, but we love everyone, we have a place in our hearts for another baby." .....followed by a long pause....."and we have a hoooooge house."
We have waited for almost a year and a half to even discuss adoption, in an attempt to make sure we were not trying to move our hurt into misguided love. We don't feel that way anymore. Our hurt is our hurt. It will never stop. We have room in our hearts for another baby. A baby who will grow up understanding that he or she has a big brother in heaven watching out for them in all that they do.
Growing up I watched people moving around me in fluid motion. I realize now that none of them have reached any sort of pinnacle, they have all just mastered the art of faking it to save face. We all have trials, we all have loss. Never judge someone based on their past, they don't live there anymore. Never judge someone on their presentation either, it's usually a facade. I have torn down all of the walls here, in an attempt to be as honest and real as possible. This may be damaging to our attempts to find a child, but I would never allow you to choose us under false pretenses.
We are a strong family, with strong family values and a love for each other that is unparallelled.
-Master Carrie Mae
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Family Bio- Kenny
Kenny Mair-
This is going to be one of those moments you should probably call your dentist and schedule an appointment because after you get done reading all this sweet junk, you will have a cavity. I don't know how else to approach it....maybe I'll get some testimonials from his friends (hmm........)
But from my perspective, here he is in a nut shell.......
Kenny is, by far, without question, the nicest person I have ever met. I knew it from the moment I met him. I was 18 years old, working three jobs, and going to school full time- on top of a healthy night life of a teenager. Following a particularly brutal New Year's even party, and a vow to never touch alcohol again I met Mr. Mair. I had picked up an extra shift waiting tables at Denny's on January 1st, 2006. I sloshed through the door, went through the opening routine, and looked at my empty station praying it would stay empty. Pretty soon, two good looking young men, and a particularly angry young woman came in and sat at one of my tables........I groaned and drug my feet to the table. Without much time lapse, the young lady stood up and walked into the restroom. With a renewed sense of humor I approached the table and asked which one of them had made her so happy........One of them looked at the table and I knew instantly that he was the guilty party. I drew my attention to the other young man sitting at the table, he looked very young, baby faced, and very good looking. I noticed a hunting sweater, and asked if he drove the truck in the parking lot (I had a hunch, it was the only truck out there.) We struck up light conversation, and although he will argue with me about this.......he asked for my number.
We were engaged two weeks later, married five months later, and six years down the very bumpy road we call life, we are still together, and falling in love over and over every day.
He really is the nicest person on the planet. If you are ever chewed out by Kenny you will walk away and say to yourself "man, what a nice guy."
I frequently try his patience, not on purpose.....but I do. He smiles politely, hugs me, and we go about our business. He lets me rage when necessary....he is my shoulder to cry on. He takes care of everyone he knows, and would give the shirt off of his back to anyone, and everyone.
He loves his children. <<<<<<-----------Understatement of the century.
He lives for his children.
Every morning is a kiss on the forehead, because it's too early to wake them up during the work week. If he is off shift he will "sneekily" make random noises to wake Weston up, because he misses him and wants to play with him. From 8 pm to 8 am is just too long in this house. Weston adores him, and we do a happy daddy dance every day when he gets home. Daddy is second to none in this house. Weston talks about growing up to be big like his daddy, and how much he looks up to him because he works hard for our family.
He is a prime example of patience, and compassion.
He has told me on multiple occasions that every second of every day he does whatever he can to provide for his family, to make us happy and give us everything we want. He is a good man. Through and through.
This is going to be one of those moments you should probably call your dentist and schedule an appointment because after you get done reading all this sweet junk, you will have a cavity. I don't know how else to approach it....maybe I'll get some testimonials from his friends (hmm........)
But from my perspective, here he is in a nut shell.......
Kenny is, by far, without question, the nicest person I have ever met. I knew it from the moment I met him. I was 18 years old, working three jobs, and going to school full time- on top of a healthy night life of a teenager. Following a particularly brutal New Year's even party, and a vow to never touch alcohol again I met Mr. Mair. I had picked up an extra shift waiting tables at Denny's on January 1st, 2006. I sloshed through the door, went through the opening routine, and looked at my empty station praying it would stay empty. Pretty soon, two good looking young men, and a particularly angry young woman came in and sat at one of my tables........I groaned and drug my feet to the table. Without much time lapse, the young lady stood up and walked into the restroom. With a renewed sense of humor I approached the table and asked which one of them had made her so happy........One of them looked at the table and I knew instantly that he was the guilty party. I drew my attention to the other young man sitting at the table, he looked very young, baby faced, and very good looking. I noticed a hunting sweater, and asked if he drove the truck in the parking lot (I had a hunch, it was the only truck out there.) We struck up light conversation, and although he will argue with me about this.......he asked for my number.
We were engaged two weeks later, married five months later, and six years down the very bumpy road we call life, we are still together, and falling in love over and over every day.
He really is the nicest person on the planet. If you are ever chewed out by Kenny you will walk away and say to yourself "man, what a nice guy."
I frequently try his patience, not on purpose.....but I do. He smiles politely, hugs me, and we go about our business. He lets me rage when necessary....he is my shoulder to cry on. He takes care of everyone he knows, and would give the shirt off of his back to anyone, and everyone.
He loves his children. <<<<<<-----------Understatement of the century.
He lives for his children.
Every morning is a kiss on the forehead, because it's too early to wake them up during the work week. If he is off shift he will "sneekily" make random noises to wake Weston up, because he misses him and wants to play with him. From 8 pm to 8 am is just too long in this house. Weston adores him, and we do a happy daddy dance every day when he gets home. Daddy is second to none in this house. Weston talks about growing up to be big like his daddy, and how much he looks up to him because he works hard for our family.
He is a prime example of patience, and compassion.
He has told me on multiple occasions that every second of every day he does whatever he can to provide for his family, to make us happy and give us everything we want. He is a good man. Through and through.
Family Bio - Weston
I realized earlier on that in order to be considered as a potential
adoption family, it may be a good idea to introduce ourselves to all of
you. Unfortunately there is no simple way to do that, we all have a rich
history, and a tragic past that taints our biographies.
(More on that later....we I can muster up the courage.)
Weston- Weston is three and a half years old. He will be four in March. He is a charismatic, full of life, and spice, little boy. He lives for tractors, trains, airplanes, trucks....etc. He was not adopted, all though I often wonder where he could have possibly gotten so much intelligence, wisdom, and strength. In a nut shell, he is just better than his father and I. I'm in awe of him every day, in the way he learns, grows, and accepts.
Weston loves the way I do, with his whole heart. While that is a blessing, it is also somewhat of a curse. With your whole heart on the line, it tends to be broken easily.
We spend a fair amount of time trying to explain the complex workings of the universe in a simplified manner; "son, sometimes things just are the way they are." It never seems good enough, it never is. His curiosity spans across everything he comes into contact with, directly or indirectly. He doesn't ask where the airplane is going, he asks how a heavy object can fly through the sky. He is an exceptional human being. I, on the other hand, get some interesting looks from strangers when I am explaining propulsion, velocity, and magnitude to my baby boy.
Right now we are working on manners (which he is excelling in) and going to preschool...........he's still not so sure that is the greatest idea I have ever had, but he bounces out of Ms. Jamee's preschool every Tuesday and Thursday invigorated and excited to tell me all about it. I make him go every day, despite his desperate attempts to guilt me into letting him stay home......and he is pretty great at guilt trips. I drive him twenty five minutes every day to a preschool, because it is the best in the Basin. He deserves the best. I figured the driving would be a major inconvenience but it gives him just enough time, without distractions, to tell me his concerns, thoughts, worries, and on the way home his excitement, victories and knowledge. I love that time.
Weston has been my motivation for quite some time now. His life has been complicated with details outside of his or I's control since conception. His pregnancy was too short, I had no amniotic fluid and he was in distress for much much too long. We spent ten days in the NICU and left on oxygen. My little five pound baby caught up quickly, he was fourteen pounds at his two month appointment. He has been growing uncontrollably ever since. At three and a half he is well over forty pounds, and over the 100% percentile for his height.
This adoption process started for us when Wes sat straight up, after playing on the floor in front of us and said "Mommy, it's time for you to find a baby for our family." My eyes felt with tears, and we began to tell him that it was a hard process. His insistence and faith have been contagious and we cannot agree more with him. It's time.
Weston gathered up all of his toys that are "safe for baby to play with" and put them on his bunk bed, waiting. If I even look at them wrong, he warns me to "leave them alone, they are for my baby."
The best response I have is "I'm working on it."
More on my little man later. :) He needs some "twaberry milk" right now."
(More on that later....we I can muster up the courage.)
Weston- Weston is three and a half years old. He will be four in March. He is a charismatic, full of life, and spice, little boy. He lives for tractors, trains, airplanes, trucks....etc. He was not adopted, all though I often wonder where he could have possibly gotten so much intelligence, wisdom, and strength. In a nut shell, he is just better than his father and I. I'm in awe of him every day, in the way he learns, grows, and accepts.
Weston loves the way I do, with his whole heart. While that is a blessing, it is also somewhat of a curse. With your whole heart on the line, it tends to be broken easily.
We spend a fair amount of time trying to explain the complex workings of the universe in a simplified manner; "son, sometimes things just are the way they are." It never seems good enough, it never is. His curiosity spans across everything he comes into contact with, directly or indirectly. He doesn't ask where the airplane is going, he asks how a heavy object can fly through the sky. He is an exceptional human being. I, on the other hand, get some interesting looks from strangers when I am explaining propulsion, velocity, and magnitude to my baby boy.
Right now we are working on manners (which he is excelling in) and going to preschool...........he's still not so sure that is the greatest idea I have ever had, but he bounces out of Ms. Jamee's preschool every Tuesday and Thursday invigorated and excited to tell me all about it. I make him go every day, despite his desperate attempts to guilt me into letting him stay home......and he is pretty great at guilt trips. I drive him twenty five minutes every day to a preschool, because it is the best in the Basin. He deserves the best. I figured the driving would be a major inconvenience but it gives him just enough time, without distractions, to tell me his concerns, thoughts, worries, and on the way home his excitement, victories and knowledge. I love that time.
Weston has been my motivation for quite some time now. His life has been complicated with details outside of his or I's control since conception. His pregnancy was too short, I had no amniotic fluid and he was in distress for much much too long. We spent ten days in the NICU and left on oxygen. My little five pound baby caught up quickly, he was fourteen pounds at his two month appointment. He has been growing uncontrollably ever since. At three and a half he is well over forty pounds, and over the 100% percentile for his height.
This adoption process started for us when Wes sat straight up, after playing on the floor in front of us and said "Mommy, it's time for you to find a baby for our family." My eyes felt with tears, and we began to tell him that it was a hard process. His insistence and faith have been contagious and we cannot agree more with him. It's time.
Weston gathered up all of his toys that are "safe for baby to play with" and put them on his bunk bed, waiting. If I even look at them wrong, he warns me to "leave them alone, they are for my baby."
The best response I have is "I'm working on it."
Friday, September 28, 2012
Dear Mr. Webster,
Dear Mr. Webster,
I've given this post a lot of thought. Please don't take offense to my brash terminology in describing how I really feel about you, and the definition provided in your dictionary for an aforementioned word "Parent."
To emphasize the vague nature of the definition used, I have provided it here for reference.
.......give me a moment.
Breathe..........
Breathe..........
Ok. First of all......YOU..........Mr. MAN!-
-may have forgot a few descriptive sentences-
c: a person who is willing to sacrifice copious amounts of sleep to ensure the safety and comfort of their sleeping child.
d: a person who neglects their own self hygiene (sometimes for days) in order to never leave a child unattended, even for a single moment.
e: a person who places all childhood dreams on hold, or deletes completely, in order to facilitate the dreams of their child.
f; a person who mistakenly is complemented on their french manicure in wal-mart just to embarrassingly admit that it is in fact not a manicure, but is desitin caked under their nails.
g: a person who takes up residence in their buffet pants, in order to be prepared to cuddle on the couch and take a nap at a moments notice (granted there are no other children that require attention or need in the time it will take to take a nap.)
h: a person who replaces close friendships with adults for a close relationship with "Max and Ruby, Bubble Guppies, Blues Clues, and Yo Gabba Gabba"
i: a person who tolerates "Yo Gabba Gabba"
j: a person who looks at their child and unwillingly beings to cry because the idea of being trusted with such a beautiful gift is so overwhelming.
k: a person who chooses their tiny human over them selves, over and over and over again.
l: a person who understands the value of innocence, chases butterflies, believes in the color pink, thinks mud is a cure all, jumps higher than any kid on the trampoline (to show how great it is to be grown up), and is warm even when it is cold outside.
m: a person who prays for one more day, every day.
n: a person who understands that their ultimate goal is to raise a child, into an adult, that will one day leave to begin their own successful attempt at life, with the full understanding that the moment they leave, your heart leaves with them; wherever they go.
o: a person who allows their heart to walk around outside of their body.
p: a person who stays awake all night to study, because building a fort in the front room was more important during the day.
q: a person who forgets what it feels like to go to the bathroom alone.
r: a person who is capable of making up a voice for every toy your child decides to humanize.
s: a person who is consistently apologizing for the mess to all guests who dare tread into the childhood dream home, because you have set up a road way on the floor, that spans the entire length of the house, and there is just no room for giant monsters to walk through town.
t: a person who takes off their warm dry gloves, to exchange them for a tiny pair of sopping wet frozen mittens.
u: a person who is baffeled by the ability of tiny socks to stand up, walk around, and hide in the most inconspicuous places to avoid being placed in a matched pair on a child's foot.
v: a person who is so filled with inexplicable love that it threatens to explode their heart at any given second.
w: a person who worries in such great detail that the idea of stalking their child, and embarrassing them in public is the absolute least of their worries.
x: a person who is as excited, if not more excited about Christmas, Easter, Halloween, a lost tooth, and Disney land than their child.
y:a person who reflects on their work at the end of each day......a person who is too tired to reflect on their work at the end of each day, but rests assured that they absolutely did the best they could.
z: a person who clings to every second of every day spent in the presence of any child as a gift.
.........blah blah blah.....you get the point.
In regard to your recent on-line publication, please take note that a link may be drawn directly to this page to give people a slightly more realistic approach to parenting. Keep in mind, this only scratches the surface, granted we only have 26 letters in the alphabet.
I think the most important definition (and one i didn't include in my preliminary list) would probably go as follows.
A1: a person who's intentions lie, unwavering, in the best interest of a child, with a fair understanding of failure (despite your best efforts) being inevitable, and success never being recognized (because success is always given to the child).
Mr. Webster, I am a parent as you have described in a:. However, due to extenuating circumstances, I cannot repeat that process and "bring forth more offspring." I would like to be a parent in all descriptions (except the plant thing....that is a little much for me). I would like to be b : a person who brings up and cares for another.
Sincerely,
Carrie Mae Mair
This is the type of parent I want to be. This is the type of parent I try to be every day. Failure is inevitable in certain aspects, I am a witness of mass proportions to that. And success is given to the child, as a victory in their life regardless of the scope. Being a small part of that is enough. My family and I want another child, to show these things to. We would like to adopt a baby. If you have one, or know of one that may need a parent or two, we fit the description. Please feel free to contact us, any time, day or night.
Carrie Mae 435-724-8511
Kenny 435-724-8512
I've given this post a lot of thought. Please don't take offense to my brash terminology in describing how I really feel about you, and the definition provided in your dictionary for an aforementioned word "Parent."
To emphasize the vague nature of the definition used, I have provided it here for reference.
1par·ent
noun \ˈper-ənt\
1
a : one that begets or brings forth offspring
b : a person who brings up and cares for another
2
a : an animal or plant that is regarded in relation to its offspring .......give me a moment.
Breathe..........
Breathe..........
Ok. First of all......YOU..........Mr. MAN!-
-may have forgot a few descriptive sentences-
c: a person who is willing to sacrifice copious amounts of sleep to ensure the safety and comfort of their sleeping child.
d: a person who neglects their own self hygiene (sometimes for days) in order to never leave a child unattended, even for a single moment.
e: a person who places all childhood dreams on hold, or deletes completely, in order to facilitate the dreams of their child.
f; a person who mistakenly is complemented on their french manicure in wal-mart just to embarrassingly admit that it is in fact not a manicure, but is desitin caked under their nails.
g: a person who takes up residence in their buffet pants, in order to be prepared to cuddle on the couch and take a nap at a moments notice (granted there are no other children that require attention or need in the time it will take to take a nap.)
h: a person who replaces close friendships with adults for a close relationship with "Max and Ruby, Bubble Guppies, Blues Clues, and Yo Gabba Gabba"
i: a person who tolerates "Yo Gabba Gabba"
j: a person who looks at their child and unwillingly beings to cry because the idea of being trusted with such a beautiful gift is so overwhelming.
k: a person who chooses their tiny human over them selves, over and over and over again.
l: a person who understands the value of innocence, chases butterflies, believes in the color pink, thinks mud is a cure all, jumps higher than any kid on the trampoline (to show how great it is to be grown up), and is warm even when it is cold outside.
m: a person who prays for one more day, every day.
n: a person who understands that their ultimate goal is to raise a child, into an adult, that will one day leave to begin their own successful attempt at life, with the full understanding that the moment they leave, your heart leaves with them; wherever they go.
o: a person who allows their heart to walk around outside of their body.
p: a person who stays awake all night to study, because building a fort in the front room was more important during the day.
q: a person who forgets what it feels like to go to the bathroom alone.
r: a person who is capable of making up a voice for every toy your child decides to humanize.
s: a person who is consistently apologizing for the mess to all guests who dare tread into the childhood dream home, because you have set up a road way on the floor, that spans the entire length of the house, and there is just no room for giant monsters to walk through town.
t: a person who takes off their warm dry gloves, to exchange them for a tiny pair of sopping wet frozen mittens.
u: a person who is baffeled by the ability of tiny socks to stand up, walk around, and hide in the most inconspicuous places to avoid being placed in a matched pair on a child's foot.
v: a person who is so filled with inexplicable love that it threatens to explode their heart at any given second.
w: a person who worries in such great detail that the idea of stalking their child, and embarrassing them in public is the absolute least of their worries.
x: a person who is as excited, if not more excited about Christmas, Easter, Halloween, a lost tooth, and Disney land than their child.
y:
z: a person who clings to every second of every day spent in the presence of any child as a gift.
.........blah blah blah.....you get the point.
In regard to your recent on-line publication, please take note that a link may be drawn directly to this page to give people a slightly more realistic approach to parenting. Keep in mind, this only scratches the surface, granted we only have 26 letters in the alphabet.
I think the most important definition (and one i didn't include in my preliminary list) would probably go as follows.
A1: a person who's intentions lie, unwavering, in the best interest of a child, with a fair understanding of failure (despite your best efforts) being inevitable, and success never being recognized (because success is always given to the child).
Mr. Webster, I am a parent as you have described in a:. However, due to extenuating circumstances, I cannot repeat that process and "bring forth more offspring." I would like to be a parent in all descriptions (except the plant thing....that is a little much for me). I would like to be b : a person who brings up and cares for another.
Sincerely,
Carrie Mae Mair
This is the type of parent I want to be. This is the type of parent I try to be every day. Failure is inevitable in certain aspects, I am a witness of mass proportions to that. And success is given to the child, as a victory in their life regardless of the scope. Being a small part of that is enough. My family and I want another child, to show these things to. We would like to adopt a baby. If you have one, or know of one that may need a parent or two, we fit the description. Please feel free to contact us, any time, day or night.
Carrie Mae 435-724-8511
Kenny 435-724-8512
To Start
The decision to grow a family is never one to be taken lightly. It's a decision based on one's inward outlook on their ability to provide for children; to facilitate life. This decision is not to be taken lightly.
More often than not, one is caught up in their own concepts of self to fully consider what the needs are of a child. It's not wrong to be in love with being in love with your child. But that is really not the point. I myself have relished in the glow of being a mother. Loving a child with every fiber of my being, from the depths of my soul. I myself have forgotten all other life on this planet to focus myself on that child, two children to be exact. I will never regret a single moment spent hurling myself into that devotion. But moments come in the duration of being a parent that require you to live outside of that glow, and focus solely on the child.
What is best for my child?
What does my child need?
Am I enough?
I've rolled the latter question over in my mind more often than you can imagine. Am I enough? Am I good enough? Am I good enough to facilitate life? I find divinity in the question itself. Early on in life, the answer was a clear cut, unquestionable, no. The idea of being the sole provider of another human being was beyond me. I was neither set up nor emotionally ready to be that person, for anyone. When my life opened itself up to the possibility of a child, the idea was planted and I began to imagine what that endeavor might be like. The thoughts filled my mind for the better part of every day, trying to plan out the intricate details and finite logistics of what daily life would entail. If I had spent every second of every day thinking about it, from birth.........I would still have been a world away from reality.
There are no words to describe being a "parent." I'm really surprised there is a definition in the dictionary- But let me be clear, it is vague.
There you have it. Three descriptive sentences that sum up being a parent.
I'm appalled......
More often than not, one is caught up in their own concepts of self to fully consider what the needs are of a child. It's not wrong to be in love with being in love with your child. But that is really not the point. I myself have relished in the glow of being a mother. Loving a child with every fiber of my being, from the depths of my soul. I myself have forgotten all other life on this planet to focus myself on that child, two children to be exact. I will never regret a single moment spent hurling myself into that devotion. But moments come in the duration of being a parent that require you to live outside of that glow, and focus solely on the child.
What is best for my child?
What does my child need?
Am I enough?
I've rolled the latter question over in my mind more often than you can imagine. Am I enough? Am I good enough? Am I good enough to facilitate life? I find divinity in the question itself. Early on in life, the answer was a clear cut, unquestionable, no. The idea of being the sole provider of another human being was beyond me. I was neither set up nor emotionally ready to be that person, for anyone. When my life opened itself up to the possibility of a child, the idea was planted and I began to imagine what that endeavor might be like. The thoughts filled my mind for the better part of every day, trying to plan out the intricate details and finite logistics of what daily life would entail. If I had spent every second of every day thinking about it, from birth.........I would still have been a world away from reality.
There are no words to describe being a "parent." I'm really surprised there is a definition in the dictionary- But let me be clear, it is vague.
1par·ent
noun \ˈper-ənt\
1
a : one that begets or brings forth offspring
b : a person who brings up and cares for another
2
a : an animal or plant that is regarded in relation to its offspring There you have it. Three descriptive sentences that sum up being a parent.
I'm appalled......
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