1000 Attaboys!

As self confessed Dr Phil fan, I think sometimes the man just says something brilliant.  On a regular basis he reminds us that "It takes 1000 Attaboys to equal one time when you tell your child they are a jerk."  For some reason the other day I got to thinking that we spend so much time trying to correct our kids that it must outnumber the times we stop to appreciate them.  I decided to take the day and notice what was good about them.  What an amazing experience!

I quickly realized that lately Andy had begun to really care about the rest of the family.  It showed in the many little things he stopped to do, the smiles and jokes that brightened my day and the consideration for others.  I realized he really did not complain when I asked him to take care of chores any more.   When did that happen and how did I not notice?  Maybe I was too busy correcting something else.

Yes, Catie grumbled and forgot to empty the dishwasher, but she also brought home an award winning report card.  Certainly worthy of praise and so instead of just keeping it between us, I posted it on Facebook so everyone could tell her what a good job she does.  Every comment made me smile.

It's a lot more fun to praise, but I do hope she empties the dishwasher today.

Chapter 2

It has been a year since I last posted here.  I sat yesterday reading back over the postings that began in 2006 and am so grateful for this journal of my life.  A high-tech scrapbook of sorts, complete with photos as life happened in the "Nuthouse".  A lot of it was good times, some of it was not.  Either way, it was life as it happened to me.

In March of 2007 we lost our Karen and I notice that my postings were frequent, as I worked my way through the numbing grief.  When it was too painful to speak, there was always the blog.  Joy or sorrow, celebrations and everyday life fill the pages.  A lover of history, it is mine and I wonder if I should print it and put it in a book for some grandchild to read.  Perhaps one of them will be like their grandmother who would be delighted to find such a record.  Regardless, today I realized that it is not time to end it, but to create another chapter.

 Each year in March we all brace ourselves to face the end of the month, not sure whether to stifle the memories or give in to them and mourn.  This year, I knew it was a time for new beginnings.  

Five years is not a magic number or an official ending point for grief.  Somehow in my heart, I knew I had traveled the road of mourning and that it was time to begin Chapter 2.  I can finally look at pictures of Karen and smile, remembering her laughter.  I am ready to take the boxes of memories and create the Scrapbook of all Scrapbooks.  Every time I tried before, it was just too painful.  Now I want to do it.

 I know now it is time to remember Karen's life, rather than her death.  I caught myself the other day giving Catie a lecture about how she should be more like her Mom and told the story about how she took over running the house when I was ill and she was only 15.   She took care of baby Mike, managed to handle Joey, cleaned the house and actually made me homemade chicken soup and baked fresh bread from scratch.  That was Karen at her best!

 I will always answer the question of "How many children do you have?" by saying 5.  When asked for details, I will tell people that one is in heaven.