Now, That's Some Trophy

Pretty big thrill for the boys last summer.  They got to see the Stanley Cup at the Verizon after our home team, the Boston Bruins, won it again.  This was some serious highlight for these guys.  And a definite life highlight for their Dad.  He's never gotten that close to it before, and he's been a Bruins Fan for many years now.  I don't actually think that either of these is the Cup, because it seems to be it was much larger and kept guarded.  Not sure, though, but either way, it was a "way cool" excursion for them.   Music Man actually got interviewed for the local news station, WMUR, which they actually filmed and showed on the broadcast of the news.  We have it saved on our DVR.  Fun stuff.

Probably one of the things that is amazing to me is the amount of time Music Man dedicates to his children.  In this day and age, I supposed it's a bit more normal then it used to be to some extent.  Mothers, well, we're expected to be there for the boys and nurturing and all that.  And I take that job very seriously and do the best I am able for them.  We are both at their games, scout activities, concerts, plays, whatever we can do.  And I'm the one home with them all the time.  A foundation I know can't be replaced in any other way.  But wow, what lucky boys they are to also have a Dad that is so involved with their lives and there for them.  He assistant coaches both boys sports teams, whatever it happens to be in that season.  He attends all of Maestro's scout activities and meetings and is Little Red's den leader.  He's the one to take them to sports activities that they are fans of, like Manchester Monarch's hockey, or Fisher Cats baseball.  I will attend a few of them with them, as I've grown to like sports since having boys (really, what choice did I have?).  But our budget is such that we have to limit what we do and so I will stay home so they can go.  These things mean so much more to them then me, so it's good.  Plus, what wonderful bonding time and experiences they have with their father.  He's the one sleeping out in the back field with them in tents.  I'm the beach mom, the easy hiking trail mom, the after school activities mom. Music Man is their wonderful male role model.

And it's something I marvel at.  He did not have this in his own life.  Let's just suffice it to say his own example of how to be a good father was basically non-existent.  His mother did the best she could, but a boy needs his father.  Most of his life, he wanted a mentor, someone he could look up to and learn from.  He had a grandfather and uncles that were involved in this life, and he's very thankful for that.  But, they weren't his father.  And so, when I see the dedication he has to his own sons, the love he shows them, and the sacrifices he makes for them, I know how deep that goes.  It's not that he does it because he has to, he does it because he didn't have it and because he knows how much it means to his sons.  Even when they don't recognize it, and don't understand it now.  They will someday, when they are older, and maybe it won't be until they have children of their own.  And perhaps in those moments of being a great dad, he's healing the deep wounds left by his own father.  I hope for that all the time.   And, I'm enormously proud of him.

~Wishing you family love of your own, ~Peacemom 

I was having an interesting conversation with Music Man yesterday.  We were discussing our home search.  We've been involved in this for a long time, it feels like forever. 

See, Music Man was never what I'd call a country boy, even though he grew up in a small town once they landed from his military brat years.  He moved all the time until he was 12.  My parents moved us to northern New Hampshire, "the sticks" if you will, when I was 10.  I never looked back.  We lived in a city in Florida before moving to NH.  It was okay enough for me as a kid.  But I was horse NUTS back then, long before my parents relocated us to a mere mile from a large boading farm.  I was living right where I was meant to be then.  As a child, I didn't recognize that, I just knew it was where I wanted to be.  The old farmhouse where we originally settled was in the middle of a surrounding milk cow farm.  We also did not have any neighbors close by and so I spent a lot of time outside hanging with my dog and the cows.  I learned to love the land and the animals.  Waking to soft moos and cowbells in the field, smelling fresh cut hay, letting the calves suck my fingers, feeling the cows soft breath and peering into their soft brown eyes behind large eyelashes.  I found a feeling of "home" that at the time I did not recognize, but now know that's because I was where I belonged.

Music Man would have been happy living in an apartment in the middle of Boston before he met me.  He's a musician and loves the vibe of the city and gets a renewal of energy from that vibe.  After living years in a large city,  being in the city sucks the very life out of me now.  What he can view as exciting, I see as exhausting and draining, loud and annoying.  Living in the middle of the city is slow soul death for me.   But, Music Man also loves the outdoors, is a hiker of many trails and enjoys camping and spending time on the water.  Since meeting me, he's embraced that country boy part of him and now enjoys the country as much as I do. I think it was always in there, but it took having someone in his life embrace and encourage that for him.  I also still encourage the nights in the city to see music, but he goes with friends rather then me.

That being said, we are both always trying to figure out a way to live the life that we consider "right" for us and our family.  We want a place to grow our own food, raise our own livestock and be more self sufficient.  But for me, it's an actual drive to do this.  I feel this drive on a level that is much deeper then the average joe.  I know I'm meant to be a farmer.  I'm meant to be connected to the land and seasons and miss having that in my life.  I know it like I know my own name, it's part of my very being.  And I knew it since I was a child, but at 44 am no closer to making that a reality then I was then.  Renting it on someone else's land just isn't gonna work.

Until I can get my own home, where I'm able to plant things that need years to develop and can stop feeling temporary about where I'm doing all my outdoor work, I won't feel deeply happy or settled.  We've lived for years now feeling temporary...never doing what we'd like to do, painting the walls, setting up the garden beds, planting the rhubarb, fruit trees, asparagus and blueberry bushes, getting the dog we want.  Because if we do those things, then it's time to move, we've done it for nothing and we stand the risk of having to have to get rid of our dog.  Our current landlords are great.  Farmers themselves, they let us do what we want, but we moved in here knowing our time would be limited to some extent.  He purchased the house for his inlaws to retire to, and we know they eventually will want to retire and we'll need to go.  There are many things about this house that don't work for us, but we accept it because it's at least providing us a way to stay in the town that we all love.  Though we didn't know it at the time, we had to pick one of the most expensive towns in the state to settle in, make friends in, and develop a community with.  And now, unless we can find a house that we fit in, that doesn't need a ton of work, that has at least two farmable acres, we're facing leaving the town and people that we love.  Our kids love it here and for us that's a huge part of why we want to stay.  Music Man having moved so many times as a kid, never developing friendships and feeling he belonged has stayed with him his entire life, and we don't want to do that to our kids.  Maestro has already been to 3 different schools and he doesn't want to leave.  Plus this school has the programs for gifted kids that he needs as well.

So, we keep waiting and hoping.  There are so few homes in our area that are in our price range, that work for our family, that fit our financing.  It's getting to look more and more like we may have to leave the place we love and feel we belong.  None of us is anxious to have that happen, so we wait.

Still hoping for the little farm, ~Peacemom