nostalgia

If ever there was a vivid memory in my life it is the first two years of Nathan's life. It was a time of extremes. On the one hand, those first 3 or 4 months was a terrible depression. Terry was stressed, having tests every 5 weeks and so fearful of failing. And I was trying to work part time at a pre-school in Independence, wanting to be home all the time. We didn't have a babysitter who we knew very well. One of Terry's classmates' wife had just had her second child and we she offered to babysit. I would pick up Matt and Nathan and their diapers would be literally falling off because she didn't know how to put them on right. She was a good and kind person and I knew they were safe but I would leave them off and cry all the way to work many mornings because I hated to leave them. Susan told me if I wouldn't have had so much guilt I would have been fine. Maybe she was right. But I was not able to do that and I finally decided it was too much. I felt very divided and couldn't get over the feeling.

The job was a good learning experience for me. I taught the 3 and 4 year olds and I still remember some of them. I had to get tough and still be tender.

By Christmas Terry and I had found out we could get help from Vocational Rehab because of his leg being shorter than the other one. We also got help that we could pay back year for year by working in an area of need so we got a stipend every month and money for school. So after that I could stay home. It took me, however, most of that year to begin to climb out of that depression. I remember feeling like I was in a dark whole that I couldn't climb out of.

One day Terry took the kids to his parents house and I had a rare moment alone. I was working on some cleaning job and was horrified when I realized I did not want them to come back. I wanted out! And as I was thinking that, the words from the bible came to me, "Let this cup pass from me." Through the spirit I knew that Jesus understood my feelings. He too had wanted out. I felt a peace I hadn't felt for a long time.

In the middle of all of that, there were times of extreme joy. Each day I took the boys for a walk, pulling the wagon with Matt in the back with his arms around Nathan. I loved those walks. Sometimes Matt would forget to hold Nathan and Nathan loved to watch the wheels go around and he would fall on his head. I would get after Matt and it would work for awhile. Pretty soon we got the hang of it.

We lived in "little Italy" in Kansas City about 4 blocks from the school where Terry went. We had great neighbors but the surrounding area was not so good. It was a mofia area and 2 times people were shot within blocks of our house. Hooded men went into a bar at the end of our street and shot someone. Another time in a yard just over one street from us.

But I never felt unsafe. Maybe my need to be outside overrode my need for safety!

This was also a time when Terry and I grew closer. We had more time for us. We had been surrounded by friends and now we had no couple friends. We were across town from family and didn't go there often. We had wonderful times of intimacy and talks by our fireplace.

The boys were so precious and fun to be with. Everywhere we went people told us how cute they were. They would play together all day, so creative and funny. Matt would say, "Bye, Mom."

"Where are you going now?"

"Los Degos" or "Cali-fornia"

They built homes and trains and cars with blocks and toys. Our "dining room" was their play room and they were constantly creating.

Once I quit work I was in heaven home with my boys.