Letters For Lucas

Wonders, Mishaps, Blunders and Joy.. commentary on my life as a mom in the form of letters to my son

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Where Are You From?

Posted on December 6, 2010 Written by Tonya

“Where are you from?”

It’s such an ordinary question.

It’s right up there with, “what do you do?”.

All my life, however, my answer has been rather complicated.

As a response, “I was born in Texas, but grew up overseas” is rarely satisfactory. I think it’s the word: overseas. It sounds so exotic.

And it is.

Sort of.

The inquirer, if they want to know more, usually follows up with,”military brat?”

“No.”

“Peace Corps?”

“No, my parents worked in American-International schools and I lived all over.”

This reply is typically faced with one of two reactions:

1) A simple “oh”, due to lack of time and/or interest.

Or

2) “Oh, where?”

Usually it’s 2) and then I list all the places I’ve lived; Karachi, Pakistan, Banjul, The Gambia in West Africa and Maracaibo, Venezuela.

It’s an impressive list, if I do say so myself. What’s even more impressive is that my parents continued to live and work aboard for another 18 years in four other countries (Somalia, Mozambique, Myanmar and Tunisia) after I returned to the states to attend college.

The 11 years (ages 7 – 17) I spent as an expat had its ups and downs, but for the most part was exciting, educational and a lot of fun. And I knew no different.

Every place I lived was coastal, so I grew to love the water. English was predominately spoken and my friends were mostly European, many of which I am still close with. I was exposed to more people, food, culture, customs, political beliefs and poverty than many of my American counterparts ever would be. I have had six passports, still have the travel bug and enjoy exploring outside the U.S. at least once a year. Luckily, I married someone with that same need and together, we want to show Lucas as many places around the globe as we can.

I feel so blessed to have had the opportunity to experience so much world travel and at such a young age, but there really is no place like the good ole US of A.

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Filed Under: career, KRA, MSA, TDA bio, travel Tagged With: career, KRA, MSA, TDA bio, travel

Woulda Coulda Shoulda

Posted on December 2, 2010 Written by Tonya

Like most of you, I’m sure, I try not to live with any regrets.

But I do have a few…

I think we’d all be lying if we said that there wasn’t a time when we wished we had gone left instead of right, accepted one offer over another, stepped out of our comfort zone, been a little bolder, braver, wiser, faster, showed up five minutes later, five minutes sooner, spoke up, volunteered, reached out, tried a little harder, or been the first to say “I’m sorry”.

There’s no going back now.

What’s done is done and all we can do is learn from our choices and move on.

For me, first and foremost, I wish I had told my parents how much they meant to me, how much I appreciate the sacrifices they made for me, the childhood they gave me and the lessons they taught me. I wish I had said “thank you” and “I love you” more often.

Now for the stupid stuff….

I wish I had gotten my math and English requirements out of the way the summer before I started college. Those two classes caused me so much grief for five long years. It honestly took me that long to get them completed because each enrollment period, the classes would get so full that I couldn’t get into them. It happened every semester!

I wish I had saved more money while I was in college and getting a substantial monthly allowance. I have absolutely nothing to show for all the money I frivolously spent in my 20’s.

I wish I had dated more in college. I entered as a Freshman with a boyfriend and we were together on and off for four of my five years.

I wish I had taken more time after graduating from college to figure out what I really wanted to do with my life instead of accepting the very first $22,000/year job I was offered.

I wish I had done more with my Spanish minor degree. There was a time when I was pretty fluent, but these days I can barely converse with our housekeeper.

I wish I had lived in New York, San Francisco, Chicago, Washington D.C. or Boston when I was young, single and unattached. I think I would have loved big city life.

In some ways, like energy level and not knowing any better, I wish I hadn’t waited until I was in my late 30’s to start a family.

Again, no real regrets, just a hand full of woulda coulda shouldas. What are yours?

All regrets aside, if I could relive my wedding day or the birth of my son, I would do it in a heartbeat and do everything exactly the same. 🙂

This post is for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop – Prompt #5: If you could relive any moment in your life, what moment would you choose? Write about it. (inspired by writingfix.com)

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Filed Under: difficult subjects, KRA, mama kat's writer's workshop, MSA, school

Ceramic Mugs

Posted on November 29, 2010 Written by Tonya

I started packing on Friday in an effort to burn off calories consumed on Thanksgiving and so that our impending move seems more real to me. I’m excited, I’m just in denial.

I started in the kitchen and quickly had five boxes full of linens, pots, pans, glassware, bake ware, wine and water glasses, water bottles and ceramic coffee mugs.

I don’t drink coffee and Todd, who only drinks iced coffee, uses glass mugs. Why I keep carting these ceramic mugs around from address to address is beyond me. Some were gifts and others were souvenirs. When I remember, I’ll use one for hot chocolate or chamomile tea, but otherwise they collect dust and every three years or so, get wrapped up in newspaper and moved to a new home, where they will once again sit on a top shelf and wait to be used.

With each move, I try to get rid of one. I am down to six.

There are two that I will never part with because my mother made them.

Ironically, she didn’t drink coffee out of them either, but her favorite diet soda.

I don’t remember my mother being a very creative person, but she did teach Kindergarten – third grade, so she knew how to do simple arts and crafts. She sewed a lot when I was really little and made me and my dolls matching clothes and I always had homemade Halloween costumes.

During the early years of her marriage to my father, she was really into painting ceramics à la Color Me Mine. It was the 70’s after all.

Sadly, all I have are a few figurines and these two mugs.They’re ugly, weren’t made for the microwave and aren’t dishwasher safe, but right there in the middle of my gung ho packing day, I had to stop and have a cup of hot chocolate in one of my mother’s mugs.

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Filed Under: KRA, loss, memories, move

Ebony & Ivory

Posted on November 18, 2010 Written by Tonya

We learn to live, we learn to give each other what we need to survive together alive. – Paul McCartney


I’m burned out.

Firstborn, middle born, last born, only child, or twin.

How two people that come from the exact same parents can be so completely opposite of one another is baffling to me.

In my sister and my case, I blame our age difference.

For as long as I could remember, I wished for a little sister and then when I turned 11, my wish came true. And before you ask, my sister was completely planned; the 11 year age difference and everything. My mother even had her IUD removed in order to conceive her. TMI?

My parents were no strangers to age gaps; there were 13 years between my father and his eldest brother and eight between him and his middle brother. There were six years between my mother and her brother.

Whenever my parents were asked why they waited so long to have another child, the response was that they wanted to be more financially stable. Fair enough, I suppose. I didn’t care, I finally had what I had always wanted.

I remember every detail of the day my sister was born. It was magical and hectic and so exciting. Up until the birth of my own son, it was one of the best days of my life and nothing can compare to being old enough to witness the joy and pride in my parents over the new addition to our family. It was written all over their faces for the nine months leading up to Leah’s arrival and it was understood that our household would never be the same.

As I was entering high school, she was starting kindergarten.

As I graduated from college, she was struggling with her math homework.

As I was going through a divorce, she was buying a prom dress.

As I was busy building a career, she was trying to figure out what her major would be in college.

As I was a newlywed for a second time and she had just graduated from college, we both lost our parents.

As I was preparing to have a baby, she was trying to start her career.

It’s sad to think that our lives will never catch up to each other and while we may experience some of the same things years a part, it was only with the deaths of our parents that they were derailed at the exact same time. Only we know what it feels like to go through something like that. Our memories of our parents are different in some ways, but our love and loss is shared.

While Leah was in college, our parents still lived and worked overseas so I became, for lack of a better term, her surrogate mother. This is not a role that I have ever been completely suited for nor enjoy all that much.

Never the less, I answered the phone in the early morning hours, waited for the texts they said she landed safely, replied to the numerous questions about growing up, life after living under your parents roof and members of the opposite sex and offered advice, whether solicited or not over money management, career opportunities and portraying a positive, wholesome image. I did this through her four years of college and still do it now.

I’m tired of being the older sister.

I have my own child now.

I’m burned out.

Over the years we have shared many laughs and good times. We’ve gotten more than a little pissed off at one another, especially lately.

We are true sisters and I love Leah with all my heart.

After 26 years later, while I can’t imagine my life without my sister in it, I honestly believe that the 11 years between us has been detrimental and I can’t help but wonder how our relationship would be different, better even if we were closer in age.

My sister and I are in need of a long, heart-to-heart, an open, honest, most likely with raised voices, possibly four letter words and maybe even some tears conversation. I’m dreading it, but it’s overdue.

I feel a tremendous amount of pressure and responsibility.

I want to redefine my role.

I’m burned out.

This post is for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop – Prompt #1: Why are your burned out?

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Filed Under: aunt leah, difficult subjects, family, KRA, lyrics, mama kat's writer's workshop, MSA, TDA bio

No Words

Posted on November 8, 2010 Written by Tonya

Listening to all of the eloquent speeches on TV at the memorial service honoring San Diego police officer Chistopher Wilson last week, I realized nobody spoke at my parents memorial service.

We should have asked someone to say something.

Their deaths were so untimely and tragic that I’d like to believe that everyone in attendance was in just as much shock as we were.

After all, there were no words.

I should have said something though.

I really wanted to, but I just couldn’t make my legs stand up to walk to the front of the room.

Where were my words?

Talk about shocking, we only expected 10 people to show up and instead there were maybe 60. A pretty good turn out considering my parents died overseas and didn’t know that many people in Tucson.

We were pleased that my dad’s brothers and their wives and some of their children made the trip from Texas and I was comforted that my in-laws were there and felt nothing but loved when I saw my closet girlfriends. To this day, having them there with me on the darkest day of my life, is one of the kindest gestures I have known.

The obituary ran the same day, October 21, 2007 and my phone rang all morning. The service was held at 2:00 and people all over were finding out for the first time, yet I had known for seven days by then.

In those seven days, along with my sister and husband, we selected urns, chose photos for a montage, put together a CD of my parents favorite music, created the text for the program, edited the obituary and bought something to wear to the dreadful event.

I will never forget the shopping trip that Leah and I made to buy those dresses. We were numb and we didn’t care, so we chose the ugliest black dresses we could find knowing that while we may never get rid of them, we would never ever wear them again.

As soon as my husband saw them, he marched us right back to the mall to return them for more flattering ones. I am really glad he did that.

What would we have done without our voice of reason? There are no words to express my gratitude and love for Todd, who was an absolute rock throughout the entire process, not just that week, but for weeks and months to follow.

I wish I said something at the service.

There were no words, but still I should have gotten up and had the courage to, at the very least, thank everyone for coming.

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Filed Under: aunt leah, death, difficult subjects, family, KRA, loss, MSA, TBW

Fortune Teller

Posted on October 29, 2010 Written by Tonya

Halloween is an excuse for women to show off a lot of skin, men to act creepier than usual hidden behind masks and everyone to eat too many sweets. It’s not even the 31st and I have already had my fill of candy corn. The last time I “dressed up” was six years ago for a co-workers Halloween party and I was a very demure 50’s girl complete with poodle skirt, cardigan sweater, pigtails and Keds. Clearly, I have never been a big fan of this holiday. I am, however, looking forward to creating new traditions for and with Lucas and this year will be his first time trick-or-treating. Pictures on Monday!

One thing about Halloween that is very intriguing to me are haunted houses, ghost stories, witches and fortune tellers. Like most, I’m not overly comfortable with the macabre, but there is a large part of me that believes strongly in the afterlife, mediums and those who can communicate with the dead and not a Halloween goes by that I don’t think about a story my grandmother and then mother used to tell me.

I didn’t know my grandmother (my mom’s mother) very well. We always lived very far away from my grandparents and we only saw them once a year. What I do recall is that she was a heavy smoker, very loud, collected owl figurines and loved to sew. The story she told made chills run up and down my spine.

My grandmother was 15 and out shopping with a girlfriend and stumbled upon a fortune teller. For kicks, they decided to go in. My grandmother went first and the psychic told her the “standard”, you’ll marry someone tall, dark and handsome, to which my grandmother giggled and then promptly forgot.

When it was her friend’s turn, the fortune teller clammed up and became very jittery. She claimed that she couldn’t tell the girl’s fortune because nothing was coming to her and instead wrote something on a piece of paper and asked her to put the note in her shoe and read once she got home.

The two girls carried on with their day, had lunch, did more shopping and as they were heading home crossed a busy intersection. My grandmother’s friend was hit a car. She was instantly killed.

According to my grandmother, the note tucked in her shoe read, “you’ll never live to read this”.

I have never heard this story from anyone else so as far as I know, it is true.

Wishing everyone a very happy and safe Halloween!

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Filed Under: grandparents, holidays, KRA, milestones Tagged With: grandparents, holidays, KRA, milestones

In Memoriam

Posted on October 15, 2010 Written by Tonya

Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.
– Eskimo Proverb

Kathryn Ruppert Adams
November 10, 1948 – October 15, 2007

Michael Stephen Adams
January 28, 1947 – October 15, 2007

Rest In Peace.

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Filed Under: KRA, loss, milestones, MSA, photos, quotes

Why I Blog

Posted on October 5, 2010 Written by Tonya

This post is part of my homework for Week 3 (yes, it’s late!) of Kludgy Mom’s Back to School/Back to Blogging workshop. I chose the Idea Bank writing prompt #250: Why did you start blogging?

Before I started blogging, I only knew of a handful other mommy blogs and now, I have several fellow bloggers that I consider friends and have even started meeting in real life!

I truly admire the mommy blogging world and especially the moms with more than one child, that not only post something insightful, funny and/or thought provoking on their own sites everyday, but also find the time to visit other blogs and leave heartfelt comments. Natalie, (Mommy of a Monster) I’m talking to you! Seriously, girl, how do you do it?

I am trying to be better about finding time, not only to write, but visit other blogs as well. It’s not easy with a 16 month old energizer bunny, but I’m trying my best.

My main purpose for blogging is for someone who can’t even read yet – my son Lucas. These “letters” are a documentation of his life and a way for him to know me better.

I didn’t have a great relationship with my own mother. We were never comfortable with one another and therefore didn’t know each other very well. I harbor a lot of resentment towards my mother because I don’t believe she really tried to be close to me and I am also full of regret for the things I should have said and done to improve our relationship too. When we know better, we do better, right? I never ever want there to be any distance or friction between me and Lucas, so I hope that this blog will only help strengthen our bond.

I would have loved for my mother to have kept a journal for me, a recording of my milestones and the stories of her life. What insight that could have provided me now, not to mention terrific conversation starters. I will admit that sometimes, I like to hide behind my words, but I know that face-to-face interaction is best. I learned that from my father, who was a great conversationalist and with whom I had a wonderful relationship.

I blog because it’s therapy. Even if no one else ever read my words, I think I would still write them. Writing is a release for me. As well as sharing myself with my son and my readers, it is a great way to clear my head and get all the gobble-dee-gook out of it.

I have never claimed to be a good writer or very articulate, but I am committed and try to be coherent and I feel like in the 14 months since I started Letters for Lucas, I have only gotten better.

I sincerely appreciate my loyal followers and all of your comments. The feedback I receive is invaluable, reassuring, kind and wise. Now, it seems I write for you too. Please keep the comments coming.

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Filed Under: B2B/B2S, blog, family, idea bank, KRA

F-A-T

Posted on September 30, 2010 Written by Tonya

My mother was easily 150 pounds or more overweight my whole life.

Her weight was never an issue in our house growing up, in that it was never ever discussed. Yes, we were one of those families. No one monitored what was consumed, asked any questions or made any snide remarks.

Growing up, meals were “normal”… a meat, a starch and a vegetable. There wasn’t a lot of desserts, but we had a lot of homemade cookies, of the chocolate chip variety laying around. I don’t recall ever thinking my mother was eating more than she should.

Since my mother’s weight was never an issue at home, I was never embarrassed by her appearance. I do, however, remember feeling bad for her when she would get winded walking up a flight of stairs. I remember wondering how she would fit in a certain sized chair or a seat on an airplane. I never bought her a single article of clothing because I never knew her actual size.

Once while we were on vacation, my mother lost her balance and fell down five or six stairs. She had cuts and bruises all over her face, arms and legs for weeks. Fortunately, she didn’t break anything, but we were in the middle of the jungle in Madagascar, a 10-12 hour drive from the nearest city and she had to be flown back to our hotel and wait for my dad, sister and me to return the following day. That incident broke my heart.

My mother was an elementary school teacher, the smartest woman I ever knew and always carried herself with ease, dressing appropriately for her size. She wore a lot of primary colors and fun holiday-themed jewelery “for her third graders”, she always said. Even though she was heavy, she never “let herself go” and always wore a stylish hair cut and nail polish on her finger and toe nails.

I have seen photos of my mother before I was born and she wasn’t always big. In fact, she had a very slender frame until the Summer of 1972.

I still have no idea why she was overweight and unfortunately, I never will. She passed away in 2007 from unrelated causes.

I always thought, and she may have eluded to it ONE time, it was because she gained so/too much while pregnant with me, which made me fearful that the same thing would happen to me when I was pregnant. Some women take the “eating for two” literally and don’t take necessary precautions to nourish their babies as well as themselves in healthy and safe ways. I believe my mother was one of these women.

I know firsthand now how difficult it is to lose whatever baby weight is gained during those joyous nine months, especially with a brand new baby in tow. I am still struggling with five-eight pesky pounds myself.

In spite of or because of my mother I have never been overweight. Weight may be hereditary, but I just don’t think I could ever let myself get to that point. The point of being fat. On the other hand, I wouldn’t know what the worst diet is because I have never been on a diet. I guess I tried the Atkins Diet once for about 3 days, but who can live without bread?

Since I was in college, I have chosen to take responsibility for my weight gain and loss by exercising regularly. I keep a Excel spreadsheet of every mile I walk and calorie I burn on the StairMaster, Elliptical machine or stationary bike. I exercise so that I can eat the way I do and luckily for me, I enjoy sweating. I can’t imagine feeling healthy or happy without an hour at the gym several days a week.

I know where my problem areas are and try to work with them or camouflage them when necessary. I have sizes 6 through 12 in my closet and like everyone else, I have good days and fat days.

I LOVE to eat, but don’t gorge myself. I feel that I eat for sustenance and not just for the mere pleasure of it, unless of course it’s Trader Joe’s chocolate cover peanut butter cups or a glass or three of wine. I eat three square meals a day, rarely snack and consider myself a carb addict (hence the reason the Atkins Diet didn’t last long).

When it comes to my relationship with my body, food and exercise, I always think about my mother. I think, I don’t want to be 100+ pounds overweight. I want to live a long healthy life and I want to look good in my skinny jeans. And now, more than ever, getting and staying in shape is not just for me, but my son too.

This post is for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop – Prompt #1 Describe the worst diet you ever put yourself on.

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Filed Under: confession, difficult subjects, exercise, KRA, mama kat's writer's workshop, weight

Seattle

Posted on September 28, 2010 Written by Tonya

My mother was born in Seattle in 1948, but didn’t live there very long before moving to Texas, D.C. and then around the world. I wish I knew more about her life there and where exactly she lived.

I had never been to the “Emerald City” until March of 2002. I spent a long weekend visiting my dear and heartbroken friend, Sarah. Shortly after moving to Washington from Arizona, she and her then fiance had just broken off their engagement. It was a rainy, deary and sad trip. I was immensely proud of my friend for staying in a new city, making new friends and finding a new job, especially given all the rain the Northwest gets. So much rain that I never cared to return.

Never say never.

I now have nothing but kind words for a city that has made it’s way on my short list of favorite cities in the U.S.

I just returned from a fabulous weekend in Seattle. From the famed Pike Place Market overlooking Elliot Bay with it’s fresh fish, flowers, fruits and vegetables to the Space Needle and birth place of Jimi Hendrix and grunge music, I have nothing but kind words for a city that is now on my short list of favorite cities in the U.S.

The main reason for my trip was to celebrate Sarah and her new fiance, Chris at an engagement party hosted by her wonderful friends (some of Sarah’s same friends that I met eight years ago).

Another highlight was seeing an old friend from junior high school! 22 years later and we picked up right where we left off. I love it when that happens. To me, it is the definition of true friendship. My visit with Siobhain did wonders for my soul.

Next summer, we will return as a family when we attend Sarah and Chris’ wedding.

Here are a few of my favorite shots from the weekend:

By the way, it did rain on Sunday.

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Filed Under: friends, KRA, me time, photos, travel

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