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What's it worth?
My life isn't one that can be classified as "normal" but it has come to grips to some semblance of it. We've - my mother and I before, my husband and I now - taken what was given us and we make it normal.
I can start writing about how my father wasn't there for me (physically, emotionally and psychologically), I can write about my evil cousins whose favorite game was "Push her down the stairs and see how far she goes this time", I can write about the moments when I couldn't see any kind of silver lining because there weren't any. The pain and the anguish were there, they were very real. But I don't want to write about that - that was just one part of me, and it's not even the part that matters.
I want to write about how we take a very weird and seemingly impossible situation and turn it around to our advantage. I want to tell you about how we, as a family, laugh at the face of uncertainty and danger. I want to tell you about how we have so much baggage but we leave them at the baggage counter and just visit them once in a while. I want to tell you about how we deal with life and how much we love life.
Our kids may be a little hyper but what kid isn't? They have the normal kiddie tantrums and normal kiddie antics because we let them be kids. Children are children and we want them to have a childhood - something that we had for a breath because we had to grow up fast. I want them to tell us that they felt loved - completely and utterly loved.
These are the things that matter: Lazy Sunday afternoons in the living room where everyone is doing something but we're together. The Saturday DVD nights, the ice cream cravings at midnight. The faux bickering about who ate the last piece of cake. The loving teasing and banter between all of us.
Bad things happen and with our luck, bad things will continuously happen. We, however, take it in stride or with a couple of bottles of beer and think about how funny it would be to tell this story in the future.
I can start writing about how my father wasn't there for me (physically, emotionally and psychologically), I can write about my evil cousins whose favorite game was "Push her down the stairs and see how far she goes this time", I can write about the moments when I couldn't see any kind of silver lining because there weren't any. The pain and the anguish were there, they were very real. But I don't want to write about that - that was just one part of me, and it's not even the part that matters.
I want to write about how we take a very weird and seemingly impossible situation and turn it around to our advantage. I want to tell you about how we, as a family, laugh at the face of uncertainty and danger. I want to tell you about how we have so much baggage but we leave them at the baggage counter and just visit them once in a while. I want to tell you about how we deal with life and how much we love life.
Our kids may be a little hyper but what kid isn't? They have the normal kiddie tantrums and normal kiddie antics because we let them be kids. Children are children and we want them to have a childhood - something that we had for a breath because we had to grow up fast. I want them to tell us that they felt loved - completely and utterly loved.
These are the things that matter: Lazy Sunday afternoons in the living room where everyone is doing something but we're together. The Saturday DVD nights, the ice cream cravings at midnight. The faux bickering about who ate the last piece of cake. The loving teasing and banter between all of us.
Bad things happen and with our luck, bad things will continuously happen. We, however, take it in stride or with a couple of bottles of beer and think about how funny it would be to tell this story in the future.
