like no one's watching...

I'm constantly learning.  The category varies upon the experience.  Sometimes it's about myself.  Sometimes about other people - what makes them tick, what makes them happy, what they need to succeed, etc.  In this season of my life, the majority of my learning comes from my kids.  Now, I know them.  Better than anyone.  I can read my son like a book.  He's so sensitive to what people say, yet can get so angry.  He's caused me to take many deep breaths and walk away so many times, but I always return with the lesson, when he can listen and really hear me.  Because he'll remember.  And, he's so affectionate.  He never forgets to hug, even after he's mad.  We don't nearly have the same nature, except for the introverted part and thinking part, yet I get him, because he's so much like his daddy.  I only pray that he meets a girl one day that gets him too.
But, it's this little girl that keeps me guessing.  Miss Martha Kate.  From the day she was born, I was caught off guard.  She was tiny but fiery - no change there.  She stood up in her bed at 5 months, climbed the six foot fence at 12 months, and could turn on the water in the bathroom sink before she could really walk.  She has been in a fairly world since birth - one filled with rainbows and magic creatures.  The dolls in her room have souls and brains.  She has no organization whatsoever - she mixes the polly pockets with the lalaloopsies and it doesn't bother anyone but me.  She sings and dances.  Constantly.  To whatever music - even none at all.  She thinks she knows how to tap dance and do ballet but refuses lessons because she "already knows how."
So, a few weeks ago she decided she wanted to try out for the school play.  There were these songs on the website she had to learn so I played them a few times and taught her the shortest one.  They were kind of weird musical type songs that little kids really don't sing so truthfully, I didn't put forth much effort.  I signed her up for an audition workshop.  It's an after school session where in the course of about an hour and a half, you're supposed to learn all the songs and the dance to audition.  I had no choice in the matter, because I certainly couldn't teach her the dance.  I chose to sit through it myself.  I was a little nervous that she might bail and kind of wanted to be there if she did and also very curious as to how this went down in case I were to devote myself to a season of play practice.  They shuttled these children into a room to learn the songs - I didn't attend this part but they returned to the cafeteria for the dance part.  She was the tiniest by far.  And way in the back.  The kids on stage teaching this dance started with the first part, "sashay, ball chain," or whatever.  I was in extreme panic mode.  I wanted to bolt and nobody was asking me to dance.  I mean, I was, sweaty-palm-get met out-crawl-in-a-hole, horrified.  And, Kate, well, she was dancing.  It was no where near the same timing or direction as the others, but she hadn't a care.  She very much enjoyed the scissor kick part and went leaping across the floor.  Her left was her right and her bow was at least 5 seconds behind.  Perfectly content.  She was not concerned that the timing was off or that hers didn't look like the girl in front of her.  I was sitting there still on the flight side of the fight or flight, both proud and jealous.  There were moms on top of the cafeteria tables videoing the dance.  I'm assuming it was so they could practice at home but I figured it would be an exercise in futility for me considering that in order to teach it, I would also have to learn it and both were out of the question, so I kept my seat.
Now, I also know that judges aren't looking at what proud mamas see as and an expression of individuality so I took the offer of a sweet young friend to help my Kate with the dance number, and we are certainly grateful.  I'm not going to turn down good help.
So, audition day arrives.  It's only 2 days later - I'm also all about not dragging something out.  For the first time ever, I saw my little girl get a little shaken.  She actually cried about being too little and not good at the dance.  I reassured her that it really didn't matter, she just had to do her best.  I was certain nobody could learn how to scissor kick and sashay in 2 days.  She said she didn't want to try out.
Now, here's where I wavered and here's also where I learned.  In that moment, I wanted so badly to say "okay, then we'll stay home."  Lord knows I wanted another cup of coffee. But, I realized one thing.  She's not me.  She's already come farther in this fiasco than I ever would, especially at 5 years old.  I barely spoke to adults at her age and clearly remember hiding in my mom's full length pleated teacher skirts when someone spoke to me.  My daddy paid me a quarter to say my kindergarten speech.  I must have really wanted that quarter badly and I'm certain it was a last ditch effort on his part.  I made her go.  We finish what we start here.  That lesson I just can't waiver on.
She gave me the sulky look the whole time before she was called.  The one where she purses her lips and pushes her eyebrows together. She refused to warm up and practice, she pulled on the number that was pinned on her, sat solemnly and glared at me.  But, when it was time to get in line, she did it. She was at least a foot shorter, maybe two, than everybody in her group and when one little girl commented, "oh, she's so tiny!" I was sure she was about to sock her judging by the look on her face.
When it was all said and done, Kate came back and asked if she could go to Target.  I asked if she sang her song, and she said, "Yes, but I didn't do a cartwheel.  She said you didn't have to - you could do whatever you wanted as long as you didn't leave the room." Alrighty then.  Who knows what happened.  I'd love to have been a fly on the wall.
And, I took her to Target.  I bought her Sofia's castle too.  She didn't ask for it, but I was so proud of her for being brave enough to follow through with something she didn't want to and I wanted her to learn that regardless of the outcome, she finished what she started.  Plus, I had a gift card and needed to keep her busy so I could recuperate from the 5 boy sleepover the night before.
And, I learned.  A lot.  She may look like me, but she isn't me.  She's Martha Kate.  And, a whole lot of Martha, apparently.  I learned that regardless of how much I may hate the activity, she may love it, and I may have to learn to love it - and seek professional assistance.  I learned that she has the courage to stand in front of people and do things that I wouldn't dream of doing - like dancing and singing.  I learned that by even making her go through with it, she was 10 steps ahead of where I was at 5 or 25.  I learned that's sometimes it's okay to push, just a little, for the good of the experience.  I learned that  her saying she didn't want to try out was more about her really wanting to stay home and play with her dolls than actually trying out.  And, I learned to be okay with the outcome, before the outcome is decided.
Miss Martha Kate didn't get a part in the school play this year.  I can't say that I'm upset.  As much as I wanted her to succeed, I also knew that when it came to practicing, she's not ready for the long hours that it requires.  In my eyes, she was very successful.  And as for her, she doesn't care either way.  She simply said, "well, I didn't get a call back" and went on with her day.  We never even told her she didn't get a part.  The funny thing is that she also walked away knowing 8 new broadway songs and a dance that she now practices daily on her fake dance floor.  Hilarious.  I know our days are coming when she really wants something and doesn't get it, has to deal with disappointment and peer pressure.  I know it will break my heart.  I only hope she will keep a little of the "life goes on" attitude with her, but I also know reality.
For now, I will enjoy the school play with my little girl on my lap and not on stage, watching her experience the wonder of it all and continue to dream.  I will be grateful that she is just as happy watching as she is dancing on the stage.  I will push her, just a little, because she can handle it.

I will hold onto to little as long as I can.

Nine great years...

Dear Bailey,
I can't believe you're 9!  I'm so proud of who you are and even more proud of who you will become.  I remember looking at you right after you were born and knowing that you were the most beautiful little person I had ever seen, then asking your daddy, "what do we do now?"  Love you.  That's what.  And, Bailey, you are easy to love!
I love when you climb in my lap even though you fill it up a lot more now, and when we discuss life when I tuck you in at night.  You have taught me to love nature, animals, and bugs much more than I ever would.  I even catch them for you when I see a cool one.  It once would have grossed me out but I never want you to miss out on something cool that you may only see once.
You are a deep thinker.  I always wonder what is going on in that head of your especially when we go to new places or see new things.  But, there is no doubt that you take it all in and notice every detail - many times things that I never noticed.  You remember everything - details that I would certainly have forgotten.  I enjoy your questions when we are in the car, especially when it's just you and me.  You have asked questions since you were a year old and I've answered them, sometimes I had to look up the answer, but I spent hours talking, teaching, and answering.  Now, you teach me.
I love the way you learn everything about what you are interested in.  When you were 18 months, it was trains - you knew every Thomas character by looking at the picture - had the entire catalog memorized.  You could name every kid in your daycare class by first and last name at 2.  At 3, you could pronounce the scientific names of every reptile in the book and knew more Star Wars trivia than people who were born in the 70's did.  Lately it's cars.  You can name every make and model of every car that goes by.  You told me the other day that it was too bad that cars drive so fast when they go by because there are some really cool ones out there and you don't get to look at them long enough.  Just like life - it goes by so fast that sometimes we don't look at it long enough.  You've taught me to slow down, sometimes stop, and appreciate what's in front of me.
You build things - with legos, with paper, with sheets and clothespins and furniture, for bugs, in your mind.  You always amaze me with your creativity.  I know you will build many more great things.
You love sports, playing it, watching it, and mostly because your daddy likes it so much.  I know nothing about this subject so your daddy gets to answer these questions and I'm amazed at the names of players and teams that you know.  I love to watch you swing a bat and throw a football and I'm thankful that you are strong and healthy so that you can.
You are a big helper and a great big brother.  You always remember my grocery list so I love taking you to the store.  I always know your sister is protected by you, even when you look a little grossed out.  She loves you so much.
You worry a lot, and so do I.  You've had to grow up more than I wanted you to because of things that happened in our lives but I'm so proud of the way you have handled them.  You have taught me to be strong and helped me to be brave.  You are wiser than you should be at 9 and as a mother, I wanted to protect you from anything bad, scary, or sad, but you have taught me to face my fears and handle things as they come because sometimes we have no choice and because at the end of the day, I get to hold you and your sister.
You are sometimes the voice of reason, the stater of the obvious, the jokester, the prankster, sensitive, sweet, caring, and loving.  Happy Birthday, Stephen Bailey Jessop!  I love you very much.
Mommy

'til it overflows...

Another year.  For some it’s just that.  For me it’s still a miracle.  I must say that for everything 2012 wasn’t, 2013 most definitely was.  Now that it’s officially over, it’s worth giving it a proper goodbye.  Last year, I flipped that calendar over to January like December was on fire, but this one has been very different.  I don’t believe in looking back, but I do believe that the experiences of your past certainly shape your future.  I also believe that everything that happened in my life over the last several years has been a catalyst for my determination to make the most of the life that God has given me.  So, I’m listing some of what I’ve accomplished - to drive me forward, to remind me on days that I forget why this is the hand I’ve been dealt, and maybe to do it better in 2014.  So, here’s 25 of them:   

1. I escaped last year virtually pain free, hospital free, bone marrow biopsy free, and more importantly, cancer free.  This is not my accomplishment - I take no credit for it.  It’s God’s grace and mercy, countless prayers that were said, and years of scientific research in the making. 
2. Friendships and relationships have strengthened and deepened - some because of the bond that cancer builds, some because they are already in too deep to get out now, and some because they have invested so much time and energy in prayer and hope that they are determined to see it through.  
3. I was inspired to run for the sole purpose of giving back to the research that saved my life. The training fueled my determination and so did the people that need the miracle that I’ve gotten.  I finished the race with a first place medal but more importantly with a crowd of open-armed pink-shirt wearing people who helped us give back. 
4. We celebrated cancer remission with an impromptu party, an overly full house, and through the generosity of others, gave back to a local charity to brighten the day of other people with cancer.  
5. I walked my baby girl into the doors of kindergarten for the first day of school, kissed her goodbye, and walked out with the assurance that she was okay and so was I.  We had arrived at a place that I never thought I’d be.
6. Just as importantly, I watched my baby boy walk himself confidently to his 3rd grade classroom.  No fear, no tears, and no worries that I wouldn’t be there when he walked out that day. 
7. I traveled. Some planned, some not.  New York, Chattanooga, Hawaii, Nashville, St. Louis, Atlanta, Chicago, Mississippi, the Gulf Coast, the lake.  
8. I experienced new things through the eyes of my children as we traveled together - the mountains, the ocean, the subway, the city, planes, taxi cabs, dinosaur bones, ocean creatures, football stadiums, doll stores, air force bases, water sports.  All of these experiences as equal to me as their faces of excitement of baby birds being born, Christmas morning, clean plate dinners at Waffle House, and their little bodies snuggled close to me on the couch for movie nights.  
9. For the first time in 2 years, I was not in the hospital or having surgery for Stephen’s birthday.  I was able to give him a report of clean scans rather than an MRI showing a tumor in my spine.  
10. My in-laws were able to actually visit us this year without my children worrying that we would leave and not return, even allowing Stephen and I to enjoy some time together in Hawaii, courtesy of his company and his hard work.  
11. I celebrated 36 years.  3 more than science promised.  
12. I get the joy of watching my husband learn songs and play guitar for 5-12 year olds every Sunday morning. I know it’s not exactly the band he had in mind, but I am proud of his commitment and the way he truly enjoys those little people.  
13. I get the pleasure of spending my Sunday mornings with 5 and 6 year old little girls as we muddle through lessons together like choosing joy even when things don’t go our way.  As I expected, I may get more out of it than they do but I’m reassured that something sinks in when one little girl pipes up after I say, “Always be joyful...”  to finish with, “because you belong to the Lord!”
14. I went ice-skating, water skiing, and ran three 5Ks.  
15. I’ve made it to every baseball game, choir performance, school party, parent-teacher conference, birthday party, and daisy scout event this year.  I have pictures and videos to prove it. 
16. I tweaked my career a little, which helped me gain perspective, insight, and take a step forward in accepting change as positive.   
17. I started a blog.  Reluctant.  Delayed.  Grateful.  Grateful for all the people that actually read it, for words to have, and for whatever that cancer did to make me write.  
18. I tell my story.  I’m actually starting to enjoy it.  Sometimes for the reaction that I get from people, sometimes because I need to hear it myself, and sometimes because I know that’s the way I find a common bond.  I take pride in comments like, “I would have never known,” or “you look so young,” “wow, you look really good,” or my favorite, “bless your heart.” I’m really okay with the days I looked bad, so thanks for the compliment.  My heart has been blessed.  
19. Apparently others are inspired and so I continue to be inspired.  I’ve come out of my private world of flying under the radar to accept hugs from people whom I’ve never met but know all about me and I’m really okay with it.  My long time friend, Jessica Ferguson ran the Chicago Marathon this year in my honor.  We went to high school together, haven’t seen each other in years, and she ran over 26 miles and raised a lot of money for the American Cancer Society with my name pinned to the back of her shirt.  I am humbled.
20. I’ve come to realize that friends even when distance comes between you and friends, it just means you might need a more economical car and give you more chances for road trips.  Miss Martha Kate is an excellent traveler and a perfect little road trippin’ buddy.  We experienced our first mother-daughter trip this year.  I look forward to many more.
21. I’m learning to say no.  No to what won’t matter in 5 years, no to what makes me tired, or makes me tired to think about, no to fluff, no to things that aren’t worth investing time or energy, no to people sometimes.  And, I’m learning to let go of things that I can’t change or couldn’t get done.  After all, I can still play the cancer card, right?
22. I say yes a lot more.  Yes to peanut butter on top of oreos, yes to playing with play doh, yes to jumping from the top of the slide to get on the swing, yes to playing in the rain, yes to hermit crabs, yes to pajamas for half the day, or the whole day, yes to coffee, yes to whatever reason somebody comes up with to celebrate.  Yes to whatever makes memories.
23. I coined the term Cancerversary and blew out 3 candles.  A day I never would have thought I would actually celebrate, but again, why not?
24. My children are healthy and growing, not to mention perfect and brilliant.  My husband is healthy and still sticking by me regardless of my crazy.  Our cars are running, most of the time.  Our appliances are running, most of the time.    
25. I know that I am loved and needed - by my family, by my husband, by our family and friends.  And, I am certain that as I look back on the road map of chaos that I call my life, I am assured that God had a plan and He still does.  

I read a verse the other day - John 10:10.  “The thief comes only in order to steal and kill and destroy.  I came that they may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance (to the full, till it overflows).  My plan for 2014 is to enjoy life until it overflows.  Happy New Year!
Kimberly