Us, Right Now

2015 has been a tricky year so far for my family. My father-in-law has been battling cancer for almost two years, and his journey with this insidious, ridiculous, fucking-fuck-fuck (excuse my fucking language) disease is soon coming to an end. He decided six weeks ago to stop treatment and begin hospice at home, and Chris has been in St. Louis ever since. He's working remotely while also being primary caregiver to his dad. And the girls and I are here in Oak Lawn, plugging along and missing Chris more than any words can possibly express.

There is so much I want to say about how this experience has been for Chris. So much that has surprised, moved, angered me. Rendered me helpless, speechless. But ultimately, that isn't my story to tell. So I'll continue to do here what I've been doing, to the best of my ability, for the last six weeks - focusing on me and my girls.

For me, this experience has been a series of life lessons. 

I've learned that my girls are shaken, but resilient. They are sad about losing their Paw Paw, and they miss their Daddy a lot. But we've gotten into a routine, and things are going as well as can be expected. Which is to say that some days we really rock this on-our-own thing, and some days we are one step away from clawing each others' faces off. Such is life. I think they are a little sick of nothing but The Mom Show 24/7. Sophie raged at me during a recent fight, "I don't want your face. I want Daddy's face!" But they also cling to me more than usual, reaching out to touch me whenever they can, reassuring themselves that one of us is still here. Sophie burst into tears last week when I told her I have jury duty soon (great timing, Cook County!) because somehow she thought it meant that the judge might send me to jail. She wailed, "If you go to jail, who will take care of us?! YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU MADE THE POLICE MAD!" Emma asks me often to lay with her until she goes to sleep because she is scared. Even my dog is having frequent nightmares. The feelings manifest in different ways. But overall, they are okay.

I have learned that my husband, who I already thought did a lot around the house, actually does A LOT around the house. Having the burden rest suddenly on my lone shoulders is a huge eye-opener to just how much he contributes. My whole world is laundry and dishes and meals meals meals and changing light bulbs and yard work and taking out trash and school projects and grocery shopping and cleaning and refereeing and feeding the dog and drying tears and entertaining and picking up/dropping off children - all day every day, with no help/partner/buffer/break. I have always had enormous respect for single parents, but that respect is now through the roof. Don't get me wrong - I'm not deluded enough to think that my little experiment in single-parenting is anything close to the real deal. But it's given me the smallest taste into a single parent's world, and I'm left humbly astounded by it.  

I have learned that I took "me" time for granted. I relied on Chris to pick up the slack so I could enjoy various outlets for myself - acting, socializing, exercising, shopping, napping, etc. All the things I would normally do "when Chris gets home" are now either gone or modified. When the girls are at school, I am working. For everything else...where I go, they go.

I have learned that it is really hard to go through a difficult time and not have your best friend by your side. Because, of course, my best friend is 300 miles away. Chris can't be here for me through this, because he needs to be there for his dad instead. He's exactly where he needs to be, and I don't have a moment's doubt or resentment about it. But there are still several times a day when I think, "God, I can't wait to tell Chris about this." And I can't. Because I don't want him worrying about me, about us. He has enough to worry about. I don't want to bother him with my petty needs or questions when he is doing one of the single most important and difficult things he will ever do in his life.

I have learned that I can do more than I think I can. Many things that I just relied on Chris to do, I can do for myself. (Cleaning up dog poop is an admitted exception; my backyard is currently a shit-filled wasteland.) And while I am sometimes mind-numbingly lonely, I've discovered that I don't actually need all the socialization and outside distractions. I've simplified my life down to the very basics: work and home. And in some ways, it's a relief.

I have learned that I can do better. I have a couple of close friends/family who have been wonderful about checking in regularly and consistently. And by "wonderful" I mean "absolutely fucking brilliant." Others have reached out to say they care and are thinking of us. A handful check in periodically, asking for any new news about Chris or his dad. All of these gestures are deeply, deeply appreciated. But mostly, it's been pretty quiet. Beyond those core couple of people, there have been no real offers of help or time (eg, taking the girls for a few hours, coming to visit, lending an ear, whatever). It's been a little surprising, to be honest. I write this not to make anybody feel badly. (Please please please, that is not my intent.) Rather, I write this because I have a two-part theory as to why this is, and my theory says way more about me than anyone around me.

Partly, I think it's just human nature for a lot of people with the absolutely best intentions to keep their distance when the shit hits the fan, either because they are uncomfortable, they don't know what to do, or they have too much going on in their own lives. I've developed this theory from personal experience, because I've behaved exactly the same way in the past. I've sent a card or a note, maybe a supportive text or comment on Facebook, and then I've figured - they've got a lot on their plates, they know I'm thinking about them, they'll ask for help if they need it, I don't want to bother them - and I've gotten on with my life, worrying about them from afar. And it wasn't because I didn't care. Quite the opposite - I cared a lot, and I think most people who've been relatively absent in our lives the last few weeks care a lot too. It just is what it is. Everyone's dealing with something, and we are all trying to stay afloat. For me, I often don't know how to help, so instead I do nothing. Whatever the reason, I don't blame anyone; life is hard, and we are all doing the best we can. In fact, I'm mostly thankful for the situation. Because my eyes have been opened to how I've fallen short in this area, and I am determined to do better in the future.

The second part of my theory is easier to specify, but harder to swallow. Clearly, I have failed to build a strong community around myself. And that is all on me. We aren't a member of a church, we don't have a huge social circle, we aren't close to neighbors, we live in a town that - three years later - still feels new and foreign. And as I said before, I think I've been less than a stellar friend to others in the past. So. I'm not sure what to do about this particular lesson, but it's one I take to heart and plan to ruminate on moving forward.

I have learned that while my current situation is far from unique, it's still okay to acknowledge that it sucks. I know many people going through many difficult situations right now. Bitching about six weeks without my husband will probably strike some as the height of self-absorbed ridiculousness. Which is why I haven't been writing much lately, honestly. I didn't want to have a post full of nothing but whining and complaints, and I knew if I started typing, that's where it could potentially go. But it's my truth. It's where we are at right now. And that's okay.

I have learned that family is everything. The clarity this experience has given me is something for which I am truly grateful. I know what matters, truly matters, in a way I haven't fully felt or understood in quite awhile. The people I love and who love me in return are my family, whether blood or chosen. They are my people, my clan, my tribe. And that is everything to me. All the rest is just noise - still important, but not essential. That knowledge seems like it should be obvious, but it has proven too easy for me to forget over the years. NOTHING in my life works without my family.

Lastly, I have learned that love heals. My girls have been such a source of strength for me these weeks. I've lost count of how many times one of their hugs has restored me. And every time I feel their little arms around me, I think of my husband. It makes me desperately sad that Chris is facing such a difficult time without us by his side. Every day, I wonder...who is hugging him right now? Every night, I pray for our love to travel far and strong and squeeze him tight. So I urge you to take a look around at the person(s) standing beside you every day, the ones who are truly essential in your life...who are your life. Take a deep breath of thanks and give them a nice, long, hard embrace. I promise, the loving energy will renew you both.

THIS is how you rock a photo booth, people.

Chris

My husband is a very generous and selfless human being.

He works hard at a job that he doesn't always like very much, just to make sure our family has all that we need. He does laundry, dishes, housework...more than his fair share. He fixes things...the things I ask him to fix, and the things I never even knew were broken. He does most of our grocery shopping. He cleans up all the dog poop in our backyard because he knows it makes me gag. He spends hours on our pool, making sure it is ready for us to use every day, even though he rarely gets to take a dip himself. He mows, does yard work. He cleans both cars, including the one he doesn't drive. He reads to the girls, plays with them, giggles with them, helps them with homework. He responds to almost all of my "Honey, can you do [insert task here] please?" texts with a simple "Yes, I can."

He always, always puts us first.

These are things that he does all the time, just because he is awesome.

In addition, he is really picking up the slack as my rehearsals heat up. He spends hours reading over lines with me - both running them with me and recording them with me so I can practice when he's at work. He picks up the girls from camp, gets them fed and bathed and tucked into bed. He has made plans - actual, thought-out-written-down plans - of what he wants to do with the girls this summer while I am off being an actor. Road trips, adventures, activities. He has declared it "The Summer of Daddy" with nothing but excitement in his voice. When I'm sitting on my ass because my back hurts (long story...chiropractor appointment Monday) or I'm running lines, he doesn't once say to me, "Can you get your lazy butt up and DO SOMETHING?" I lost a job recently...or quit, depending on who is telling the story, I guess. (Since this is my blog and my story, let's say lost, shall we?) I know he must be scared about money, but he never lets it show. He encourages me to chase my dreams and has never - NOT ONCE - said to me, "You are being selfish" or "You should be home more" or "You need to get a REAL job." He HAS said things to me such as, "I like seeing you happier," "You are so talented," "You seem more alive when you are creating," and, simply, "Yes." Yes, yes, and more yes.

I take him for granted once in awhile, because after 18 years of his awesomeness, I sometimes forget just how truly incredible he is. He deserves a better wife than me, but thank you baby Jesus, he doesn't seem to think so. (Most of the time, anyway.)

Despite my very accurate gushing about him above, he is not perfect. He is human, and flawed. But I consider that a gift. (Most of the time, anyway.) Those chinks in his armor are the only things that keep me from jumping into a car and heading for Canada so he can have a shot at a real damn wife.

He is my touchstone, my rock, my everything. Nothing - NOTHING - in my life works without him.

Everyone deserves a Chris. I am so incredibly grateful for mine.

One Happy Mutha

Mother's Day has become my favorite day of the year. I was born on Christmas (as I think maybe I've mentioned once or twice or many, many times before), so until Mother's Day came along, I didn't know what it was like to have a day totally focused on me and nobody else. And I gotta say...I dig it. A lot.

Today marked my tenth Mother's Day. (Hell YES, the "in utero" one counts!) As usual, my family pulled out all the stops. I was greeted with flowers, handmade gifts, a new apron, a digital picture frame, a gift card to my favorite nail place, and lots and lots and lots and lots of love. My girls were actually waiting right outside my bedroom when I first woke up, pouncing on me the minute I emerged and bursting with excitement to give me their gifts. Nothing in the world can match the feeling of knowing that there are people in my life - people that I MADE - who love me so intensely that they literally cannot wait to make me happy.

I am so grateful to my husband for letting me be a lazy bum all day, and for always making me feel like the most amazing mother on the planet. And to all the moms I know - especially to my mommy Christine and mother-in-law Pat - HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

This is the pic on my apron. So cute!

This is Sophie's rendition of me. I think she made me look really beautiful.

This is from Emma. On the far right (partially hidden under a feather) it says, To be the best is good, but love is better. She told me, "I came up with that all by myself, just from thinking of the kind of mommy you are to me." Ha! I'm with Emma - being the "best" anything, especially the best mom, is impossible anyway; I'd definitely rather have love. I'll never stop being fascinated by the way this kid's mind works.

Well, Don't Get A Big Head About It

The girls started swim lessons today. They both did really well and had a lot of fun. We were sitting pretty far away, so it was hard to get any good shots. I managed a couple of so-so ones.

Sophie (in two-piece) takes the leap.

Emma walks the plank, readying to jump.

I did snag one great action shot of Emma jumping off the diving board...but unfortunately, my husband decided to step right in front of the ipad at the exact moment I hit click.

You can see Emma just to the right of my husband's enormous beautiful head.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...IN OUR NEW HOME!

I've always loved the holiday season, and it's been so much fun preparing for the first Christmas in our new home. I realize I'm completely and utterly slightly biased, but seriously...is this the best damn tree you've ever seen in your life or WHAT?

Yes, I love our Christmas tree...but she's not exactly new. (Although this was the first year we had ceilings high enough to fit all 9 feet of her, which was pretty cool.) Outdoor decorations though? Now that's a whole new thing. We've never had our own place on which to display anything before, so I've been excited for months at the prospect of seeing our front porch all lit up.

My awesome husband took advantage of the freakishly warm weather and spent hours today setting up outside lights. (Since we're newbies, it took some time - and a few unexpected shopping trips - to figure out exactly what equipment and supplies were needed.) I would have given up after the first roadblock, but Chris persevered and was just finishing up when I left for a concert in the city. (See how I said "in the city"? I don't feel like a suburbanite, but I can play that role.)

Tonight, I came home to find this waiting for me.

I actually teared up when I saw it.

Best. Christmas. Present. EVER.

Thanks, baby.

You can't have him. He is OURS.

I spent last night laying on our glorious new couch (LOVE IT!), reveling in my high level of comfort and unabashedly watching a smorgasbord of TV shows.

My husband ignored our couch's siren song and instead spent two hours at the dining room table making this for the girls:

This photo doesn't even begin to do this pumpkin justice. I think Chris missed his calling.

Thankfully for both my kids and myself, I really married up.

Gettin' It Right, One Father At A Time

There is something about fathers and daughters.

I have gotten a lot wrong in my life, and a lot right. But whether it be luck or providence or instinct (or, more likely, an amalgam of all of this and more), something divine and lovely led me to the best decision I have ever made: choosing the most kick-ass man in the world to procreate with. Whenever I despair about trying to raise two confident, independent, centered, and unapologetically strong women, I comfort myself with the knowledge that they already have a major leg up. They have a Daddy who loves, respects, accepts, and champions them. A Daddy who would do anything for them. A Daddy who works tirelessly to provide for them. A Daddy who celebrates who they are and nurtures who they will be. A Daddy who is constant in his love and attention. A Daddy who relishes living in a house full of women. A Daddy who will always, always, always be there for them. So, I figure Father's Day is a wonderful excuse to honor the best damn father I know, Mr. Christopher Robert Mathews. We love you, baby.

Today is also a great time to acknowledge ALL the amazing fathers out there that are doing their best, and doing it well. I came across a blog post the other day from one such father that touched me so deeply. I don't know this person at all. He is just someone I stumbled across online whose words and thoughts reminded me of my own husband and the wishes we have for our daughters. Click here to read his open letter to his daughter. Seriously. Go ahead. You'll be glad you did.

Happy Father's Day to all the daddies far and wide...especially to my own Daddy, Larry P.

It takes a real man to carve a fairy

My husband not only tolerates living in a houseful of women...he embraces it. Indeed, despite his legitimate right to claim some man-time among this pool of estrogen that he calls home, he almost always puts our needs above his own. Case in point? Chris loves to carve pumpkins, and this year he had glorious visions of creating something spooky and scary and fierce. But the girls had other plans. Instead of complaining, he got to work...and painstakingly carved the fairy Silvermist.

He's currently watching the first game of the World Series while us chicks marvel at his craftsmanship. (Remember, I said he almost always puts our needs above his own. When the Cardinals are in the World Series, all bets are off. And I say...enjoy, darling. You've earned it.)

He's pretty awesome. Methinks we will keep him.

Summer Days

 Sam & Sophie

 Sophie & Sam

 Frolicking

Daddy time

Aladdin Made Me Lose My Mind

Apparently, Chris now likes to spend his spare time recording secret videos of the women in his household. This weekend, he managed to nab some footage of us being silly while I was completely unaware. (Believe me...if I had known, I would have twirl-kicked that camera right out of his hand.) I wasn't very happy when I found out what he'd done (understatement of the YEAR), but I have to admit - it is nice to have tangible evidence for Emma and Sophie that at least once during their childhood, Mama played with them. Plus, I discovered the viewer can block me out of the video entirely with one very precisely placed hand. (This can be challenging, considering I am dancing around like a drunk ballerina through the whole clip. But if you have exceptional hand-eye coordination, I maintain that the hand block process works quite well.) However, if you must indulge a glance or two at the tall chick hopping about in her pajamas, make sure you enjoy yourself. Because you are witnessing a very rare Jen-on-video occurrence, and now that my vigilance level has been upgraded from yellow to red (I'm watching you, Chris), it will likely never happen again.

Father's Day

Chris had a nice Father's Day (I hope). We got him a game, let him sleep in, picked up donuts for breakfast, and just generally tried our best to make him feel how special he is to us. Emma drew him a picture and wrote him a poem. Chris seemed to get a big kick out of both of them. In fact, immediately after reading the poem he declared, "This has to go on the blog." So, here they are:

(Translation for those that can't decipher Em's phonetic spelling)

The Wind
the wind is
strong as
a tree branch
even stronger than
that I have no idea
how strong it
is I think
I'm going to puke!

Happy Birthday, Chris

Today is Chris's birthday. Yay! In honor of the special occasion, the girls performed an original birthday dance for their Daddy. (Emma was definitely the creative force. Sophie mostly mimicked her big sis...and did a pretty admirable job, I might add.) The dance was...um...interesting. Here are some highlights. Happy birthday, honey!

Fit for a Princess

Chris didn't come to Indiana with us this weekend because he was very busy painting at home. I now have a lavender bedroom! Whoo-hoo! I've wanted to paint our room for sooooooo long, and I am so grateful to my husband for making my wish a reality. But that's not all that SuperDad accomplished this weekend. Oh, no.

He also transformed Emma's former Winnie the Pooh bedroom into a true princess fairyland. The bedroom switcheroo was an early birthday surprise for Emma, and Chris did all the planning and the implementation. Em went absolutely nuts when she saw it. Daddy really outdid himself this time.

The photos below are some examples of the wonderful Poohs that Chris and our friend Angie painted on Emma's walls six years ago, back when Em was chillaxing in my tummy and I was divinely oblivious to the parenthood insanity that would soon take over our lives. They did such a fabulous job. Those Pooh bears watched over our little girl and kept her company for so many years. When Em was a baby, we used to start each day by saying "good morning" to Pooh. As she got older, she'd measure her growth progress by how much shorter or taller she was than the giant Pooh bear painted just inches off the floor. As weird as it sounds, I think of those bears as her first friends, and I think she did too. We'll miss them.


And here's a video of Emma's new princess oasis. Yeah, I know...Holy Pink, Batman! But the girl loves herself some pink, I tell ya. (By the way, don't you think the lame narration and weird scuffling noises in the background add terrific ambiance to the video? I'm a real auteur.)

Florida

We just returned from a very cold stay in Sarasota, Florida, where we learned many valuable vacation lessons:

1. If the major planned activity of your trip is to swim, sunbathe, or otherwise frolic outdoors on the abundant (and FREE) outdoor playground that is Florida, only to see that entertainment option cruelly ripped away for your entire stay, be prepared to scramble for boredom-avoiding and bank-account-draining alternatives with increasing desperation.
2. Keeping two young children consistently engaged for 10 consecutive days does not necessarily constitute a vacation, per se, for the parents.
3. Mother Nature has a really wicked sense of humor.

I believe the temperature may have reached the upper sixties on one day of our trip, for approximately 30 minutes. Mostly, the weather was cool, cloudy and gray. We did make it to the beach and the pool one day each (while clothed in either layers or goosebumps), but to say the weather was a disappointment would be an understatement. However, while Chris and I were deflated, the girls' spirits were undaunted. They were in heaven with so much continued access to their beloved Grandma and Grandpa Kitty. (Many, many thanks to Pat and Dave for being such wonderful and generous hosts, as always.) And since spending quality time with the grand-parental units was the entire point of our travel, I would count the trip a resounding success, low temps and all.

And now, a sampling of photos from our time in the tundra. :)







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