So, Um.
This year I turned 40. (See that picture up top? That was a birthday gift from my sister-in-law, Kass. That alllllmost made it worth making it to this age). I tried not to think about it. I also tried to convince myself I was 27....AGAIN. But neither really worked. So the months went by in rapid succession, and then there we were to my birthday.
This last year I was going to tell people how I felt about them. I was going to reach out and be kind to those that sometimes get overlooked. I was going to end this year with a sense of accomplishment. But I find myself here, on Christmas Day, feeling kinda rotten about the pros on my "Pro/Con List". I should have way more. I'm not beating myself up here, I'm just stating a fact that I know in my heart. So I thought I'd start with a blog post. To you all; to let you know that I'm alive and thriving, and loving life, even though I'm pretty quiet about it. And also, to thank those that helped this last year fly...By showing me love and attention and listening to my sad-sack stories even when you had better stuff to do. Put those deeds in YOUR "Pros List." Because all those little things really add up. And though I'm just me...it means a lot. And I try to make others feel good when I'm feeling good. Cause you know, I believe that's how we are supposed to be, as humans. And sometimes we get it right.
Anyway, I started this year feeling really scared. I didn't want Trump for a president. I still don't, and I still fight it, but for my health, I need to focus on the things that matter to me. I know that as an individual, I really am incapable of making any changes. But, I'm always on the lookout for a a way to bring that guy down. And it's for sure if you find one, you can count on my help. I will leave that information right here, get it out of the way, and leave it at that.
My kids.
Riley is almost 18. This is nuts to me. NUTS.
I don't know how this happened, but it did. Probably during one of those "It goes by so fast" decades. She may move out this summer and she may not. But I know that whatever she decides, she's going to be a great human. She's going to help those that need it, encourage those that should get it and fight for those that want to change it. She's an example to me. A good one. There have been times that I've said something completely bitchy and judgmental and instead of just going along with it, she asks me why I feel that way. I will say it was a joke, and she'll ask me why I said it, where does it come from?
Honestly? I kind of hate that. Cause she holds me responsible for the things that I say. And that's kind of a lot more responsibility than I ever realized. But, she also makes me think. And makes me figure out WHY I feel the way I'm feeling. Is it from my experience? Is it from what I've been told? And why am I still hanging onto something that I really don't know? Why make assumptions?
You can see why this is annoying. No adult likes for a kid to tell them they are being an asshole for no REAL reason. But, after the embarrassment and shameful feelings wear off, I realize I'm able to change my thoughts and turn them into something more positive. That I don't have to think any certain way, or believe any certain way, unless it's something I'm certain of. And believe it or not, that's freeing.
Cole is 14.
And, last time we checked, he was 5'11". I am pretty sure he's taller now...I kind of think of him as a spaghetti noodle. Just really long and skinny. A handsome and funny noodle, yes. That's right. He's a kind kid. He doesn't have his long hair anymore. And I feel like that's something that he was ready to change. He calls those days of his long hair his "Velma Period". In that he looked like Velma from Scooby-Doo, and he kinda did. But guess what? Velma has never been as handsome and funny. And if Cole would have solved a case? It would have been WAY more interesting to watch, and he would have picked up on the fact that some guy was wearing a mask in the first thirty seconds. Just saying. Oh, and he loves Jesus. Like, a lot.
He's a smart kid. And he always makes me laugh. And yet he has this quiet sadness that I watch like a hawk, because it reminds me of my teenage years. I'm proud of him and his sensitivity. I couldn't have asked for a better son. Those of you that have met him, know what I mean.
Sydney is now 9.
Syd is wicked smart. She really is. I'm already sending her to her dad for math homework, and she can read a regular adult's book, if she's interested in it, in under a week. It's pretty amazing. She's also on a middle school reading level, actually higher, and she's in the third grade.
Her life as the youngest is as you would expect: Obviously spoiled rotten, but the being-a-kid part of her childhood has been taken away, too soon. She's around teenagers and adults all the time, so it's hard to remember she's just 9. She likes what she likes, and I'm happy about that. She doesn't let what anyone else thinks influence what she likes to play with, or her imagination. But she does have a hard time being a kid. Being able to lose herself in silliness, and just be a hyper puppy doesn't come to her easily or often.
She'll always have to be my baby, though. No matter how tall she gets, or how old she looks, or how adult-like she becomes, she's my youngest. And therefore, she made me be a mother in my later years....when things don't bounce back like they did in my twenties. So she's in for a life full of squeezes and hugs and kisses on the top of her head wherever and whenever I feel like it. That's what she gets. I don't make the rules.
Now that my kids are older, I have had the chance to actually go places on my own. This last May I went to visit my sister Muffy in Austin Texas. Our sister Lora met us there, and it was a week of being sisters with no kids and no responsibilities. Definitely a vacation I will remember always. And hopefully, more like it will follow. I miss my sisters so much. Sometimes I get really down about it. And I know they are where they need to be, just like I am. But my heart sometimes won't hear it. When I spend time with them, I feel my youth come back. It's addicting.
In September, Moriah Love, my best friend from my home town had me come visit her for a long weekend in Palm Springs.
My Grandparents and Aunt and Uncle and cousins that encouraged me to come to Utah in the first place, have now moved to Arizona. It's kind of weird, because at one time everyone was here, but now we are all spread out, again.
My mom is doing well in Canada. She's a grandma to not only my kids but my brother Jessey's two little ones, and some little Canadians that I haven't met, but she sees regularly with her husband, Scott. We will have to figure out some new sort of visiting schedule, now that my grandparents aren't here, anymore. That's a little stressful, but something that I will save to work on another day. With all these moves and location changes our Christmas Eve visit day was peacefully spent with my in-laws in Provo. No scheduling worries or time restraints. It was pretty great.
Then we came home and did our family stuff.
Before I close on 2017, I just need a little brag time on Jeff.
He takes care of me. He listens to my rants....and there are a few each week. He tells me I'm pretty and feeds me, and lets me hang out in my Pajamas and complain about my 40 year old body and my 15 year old face. (Meaning, aches, pains, zits, oil and wrinkles. Life IS. NOT. Fair.)
He lets me be the mom I feel like I need to be. Yes, I'm friends with my kids. And I'm their parent. I don't think you have to be one and not the other. I know some people do...but Jeff has always had this blinding faith in me. And when you know someone you love more than anything feels that way about you, it's heady. It's empowering, and it means you're going to think about the outcomes and choose what you hope will be the best for all involved. So far, I'm sticking by my gut...I have really, really great kids. And they talk to us and they love us and they respect both Jeff and me. So I'm sticking with what works.
And Jeff will do anything that I ask of him. I know this. And I know also know that this is a huge gift that I need to treat with care and love and respect. So because of the surety he has in me, it strengthens the surety I have in him. And hopefully it continues to work that way, because this guy has made my life better than I could have imagined. And I could tell you all, all day long, about the ways I love him. But just know this: I dig everything about Jeff. From his morning smell, to his nightly smell....and everything between. I want him with me, always.
So, I know the point of this Christmas note/card/rant/blog post is hard to pin down. But mainly, I want you to know your importance to me. I wish I was on top of it enough to not save all this till the last second, and to not group it in with an entire year's worth of information. But, I'm not. I'm sorry, I'm just not. I promise to try harder next year, though. I do.
And I want you to know that even though in reality I have fears and worries and stressors and bills and insecurities and total dumb days, I still want to be happy, and I still want the people I love to be happy, too. And that's you. That's all of you.
Thank you for all your Christmas cards, and works of art, and invitations and attempts to make me and my family to take part in your lives. In this case, the thought REALLY does count. I know that we are anti-social weirdos, and by now, you do, too. But, we are anti-social weirdos that are loved, and we know this and we appreciate it.
You've all helped to make this a year that I can honestly say I'm grateful to have lived. So thank you. And Merry Christmas, and may this next year bring you joy and reasons to look forward to the next day. And the next.
All my love,
Rainey
And my Anderson family.
