Coming Clean in a Teacup, Volume III

I'm actually having a good time posting so many blogs. I decided recently that I want to write a book sometime in my lifetime, although I have no idea what I'm going to write about. Perhaps it will come to me one day. In the mean time, I'll continue to epic blog. As before, if you haven't read the previous blogs, go back and read them first.

As bad as I am at keeping secrets, I’m just that good at blanketing my emotions. I’m going to blame that on my previous career in retail. I learned very quickly that in order to be a great customer service representative, you put your life aside, put on a happy face, and pretend. Every day at a retail career is a production. Managers not only have to pretend with customers, but with the employees as well. If you’re having a bad day and you come to work in a bad mood…. everyone else is in a bad mood, too. It’s hard to run a business like that.

I became quite skilled at covering up my emotions; I thought “putting on a happy face” would work in other situations, too. In some cases, it worked beautifully. In this case, not so much.
Just like the game of "If I can't see you, then you can't see me" game, I figured if I kept my secret from everyone, they would never question if I was normal or not… or if I was a good mother or not. I sat down with Jerry and told him how I was feeling, I looked at him through my tears, and with a small voice asked him, “Please don’t tell anyone about this.” I feel a little hypocritical now.

When Christmas rolled around, I felt like my head could have flown off my neck at any time – taking off like a rocket and exploding in the sky in a glorious display of red and green Christmas fireworks. While we HIGHLY appreciate all of the visitors we got during the Christmas break, visitors mean one thing – cleaning. I cleaned… and cleaned and cleaned and cleaned. I stressed…. and stressed and stressed and stressed. Christmas cards didn’t go out this year (in fact, thank you notes and birth announcements haven’t gone out, either…). Our tree did get up and our house did get decorated, but I threw a fit and was annoyed that I had to shop for and wrap gifts on top of all the other things I had to do. I should just have done gift cards for everyone (idea for next year?) and saved myself a bunch of trouble and mess. I was disappointed that I spent Christmas hustling and bustling and I didn’t take time to savor JJ’s first Christmas. I know better for next year.

It was a few days before Christmas that I learned of Charlotte Reynolds (www.cjstuf.org). She was a four year old girl in Ashland who was dying of a brain tumor. When I read her story, my heart broke in pieces and all I could think was: life can be so unfair sometimes. Her parents set up a reading vigil for her entertainment while she was bedridden and something deep inside of me told me that I had to take JJ to go read to her. Two days after Christmas, I packed up my baby and made the 45 minute drive out to Ashland. When we got there, we were greeted with the warmest smile from her dad, Roger, and I knew we were meant to be there right then.

JJ and I read Dr. Seuss’ “Horton Hears a Who” and “If I Ran the Zoo.” Charlotte was asleep the entire time we read, but I knew she could hear us. As I looked at her beautiful and peaceful face, my whole life seemed to come into perspective, although I didn’t understand it at the time. JJ visited with her mom, Rachel, for a while and after our stories, I kissed Charlotte on the forehead and wished her the sweetest of dreams.

When I got home that night, I had a lot to think about. Boy, did I have a lot to think about...