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What 9/11 means for me now that I have a son of my own

Days like today I am especially thankful for being blessed with Turner. When I dropped him off at daycare, he clung to my neck. When I put him down, he turned around and grabbed my legs and tried to climb back up into my arms. I hate leaving him. It breaks my heart. But I am so extremely grateful because I know that today at 5 p.m., I will be able to go get him and everything will be perfect and sweet.

13 years ago I was sitting in my eight grade classroom. We were watching the daily kids news show that always came on the old, oversized Tvs that were fixed into the walls. The news, that usually covered healthy lunch topics and newest locker trends, cut to a serious report. A real news report. A plan had crashed into the World Trade Center. The United States was under attack. I didn’t even know what that meant.

9-11-skyline-night

While watching the TV, totally confused as to what I was being told, I watched as a second plane crashed into the towers. Was this real? What was happening? My best friend was in tears. Her grandfather worked in those towers in New York. Although we were in North Carolina, that attack hit home quickly. A teacher threw open our classroom door and called out to Shannon. She got up from her desk and left. It wasn’t until later that we found out that her grandfather had retired just days before the attack, and although his family feared he was in the towers retrieving his belongs when the planes struck, he was actually home safe. He was one of the lucky ones. So many others were not.

I wasn’t even a teenager. My small, innocent world didn’t even know what the word terrorist meant. I had no clue was was unraveling around me. It wasn’t long before my mother came to get my sisters and I from school. I didn’t understand that either. I had a volleyball game that night and I was starting, I couldn’t miss it. My mother assured me the  game would be cancelled, even though I didn’t believe her. That seemed crazy. We went straight to church. People were crying. They were praying. They were grasping onto each other as if it was the end of the world. And what I didn’t understand then, but completely realize now, is that it very well could have been.

Our nation was under attack. We were living through something that was unheard of for our generation. American soil was supposed to be safe and secure, how could this happen? It was devastating. It was confusing. It was real.

The days following we were glued to the television hoping for answers. Hoping for a promise of safety and reason not to worry. While our troops were rallying and preparing for a fight that is still continuing today, my family joined families all across America clinging to each other and hoping for solitude.

So on days like today, when I now have a family of my own. When I have a real being birthed from my own breath, I now know more than ever, and believe deeper and feel greater than I ever thought I could 13 years ago. My father and mother’s frantic, even manic reaction makes complete sense. They feared for their children before they feared for anything else. Their only thought was to hold us close. To physically guard us with their own lives.

Looking back, if I were in their shoes, I would have done the same. So today, when I get to go to Turner and pick up him, I will cling tight to him. Not because of a fear that I might lose him, but because I am thankful that for today, I have no reason to worry. He is safe. We are safe. This nation, although troubled, lost, and uncertain, is safe today.

Every day since September 11, 2001, we have grown a little stronger, stood a little taller, and become a little closer. Although tragic, confusing, and forever unjust, that day taught us all something.

Now, as a parent, I continue to learn from that day. It takes on a whole new meaning and gives me an entirely new purpose. A purpose for my life as it relates to Turner.

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Getting settled into the new house is much harder than expected

We have been in the new house for a little over a week and Turner has yet to sleep through the night. I am barely functioning. His schedule is every way but right, going to bed a different times,  waking up hella early, and let’s not forget his constant middle of the night party sessions. 

Turner's new room

Turner’s new room

It used to be simple. He would wake up in the middle of the night, in a sleeping stupor I would go to his room, get him, bring him to bed and he and I would quickly fall back to sleep. All was right with the world. Well, has decided that that is no longer good enough. I can no longer just go get him and bring him to bed before slipping back off into dream land. It doesn’t work anymore. He tosses and turns and cries. My poor boy just cries all night. 

At first I thought it was teething, after all, he was cutting three teeth at the same time. But they are all grown and where they need to be, so that is out the window. Then I thought it was just the new house, and that it would take some time to get used to. Well it has been one week and two days and last night was one of the most challenging yet. 

Then I thought it could be an ear infection. We took him to the doctor Wednesday and the doc said that his ears looked like there may have been something, but it was better. So cross that one off the table. Then I thought it was itching because he got ate up with bug bites playing in the new backyard with the family on Labor Day, but I lather him up with itch cream and give him the doctor ordered Benadryl before bed… something that is supposed to make him sleepy anyway! But I got nothing. No sleep relief. 

Playing in the new yard

Playing in the new yard

Even when I put him down around 9, which has been about the time he has gone to bed pretty much his hole 15 months and 5 days of life, by 11 he is crying and awake. 

I don’t know if it is the move, growing pains, nightmares, or anything else I can possible guess, but whatever it is, I need it to stop. Andrew starts traveling for work again soon so I go into single parent mode and I am just telling you right now, I don’t know if I can manage. 

If Turner’s nighttime discomfort is related to the new house, I don’t blame him. I have had some frustrations associated with the move too. Like for instance, it never crossed my mind how difficult it would be to just function in a new house. All of our kitchen appliances and washer and dryer are new and different and fancy. The house didn’t come with an instructional manuel. So I don’t even know how to put detergent into my new washer because it is not like I went to washer school. As far as starting the dishwasher… Turner probably has better luck. There are so many buttons and settings and then how do you start it? No one ever mentioned that when going down this road. 

Turner helping get the new house organized

Turner helping get the new house organized

Oh and the worst thing so far, is what happened when we went to cook the other night. Andrew had a big nice deal planned, he was going to cook for me, it was going to be sweet and exciting. He went to turn the stove on to boil the water… and bam, nothing. We have a gas stove, and we knew that when buying the house. But what we never thought to ask, and the sellers never mentioned, is that the gas tank for the house was BONE dry. And the process to get it checked and filled and ready is not a quick and easy one. 

It is hard enough to figure out how the faucets work and which light switches turn on what and how to wiggle the key just right to get the front door open, but al this other stuff… its been tough!