Seven and Sevens

My seventh birthday. The 80's gave us many great fashion pieces, these sweaters among them.

Charlotte turned seven Friday. It's odd how this particular number affects me. When I actually considered it for awhile, I realized that it hits me so hard because in 1987, during my seventh year,  my life really changed. My hairstyle-not so much. That mullet lasted well into adolescence. But I started thinking about how every subsequent seven (ages 17, 27, & 37) also brought me people who would change me forever.

That's my dad in the background watching the worst softball team
 ever assembled play without a mercy rule.
Also, note the hair.

At seven, my parents divorced. Now, that is probably a life-altering shitshow for most kids, but my parents could've written the book on divorced co-parenting. They loved each other until the day they died. I only remember being upset about it once. My dad moved out and lived in a trailer initially and that bothered me enough that I remember sitting in the backseat of Mom's car and crying when I left him. Mom asked if I wanted to go back in for longer. But I didn't. He didn't belong there. So he moved back into his home and I moved with Mom to Griffin Street. 

It was on Griffin Street that my defining moment happened.  Across the street and behind a house and down a little path was Amy's house. I don't remember the exact moment we met, but I do know she became my first real friend, my best friend.  She challenged me, read with me, acted on stage with me, played with me, created with me, and argued with me. I adored her.  She was the coolest kid in school and told me all the hard truths about life. Oh, Santa, your secret was not safe with Amy Simpson.  Our lives have ebbed and flowed. She is the ocean. I, the beach. We have always been connected, but sometimes drift apart only to be brought back together. As it has always been and always will be. Childhood walks home from school to adulthood table talks. She knows me. She knows it all. To this day, we may not agree on everything, but she has held my heart and my hand through my happiest and most gut-wrenching moments. Marriage, divorce, Crazytown, death. She was my right hand at my grandmother's funeral, Francine's, my father's, and my mother's. I will never stop needing her hand to hold.

Charlotte has many friends, but no Amy yet, no 24/7 BFALATSAMSE friend with their own language (icabali...), but one day.

I'm pretty sure one or both of us was entering or leaving Crazytown
when this picture was taken.

Ten years later, at 17, I went to Governor's School. I remember being truly upset when I wasn't chosen to go the year before. But I was most definitely meant to go the summer of 1997. For there, I met my soulmate, Andrea Sarubbi. We too, have our own language (Uney Guavey) and many, many, many secret stories that are just tooooo funny. We instantly clicked. We were both insanely loud, comical, and driven. We both loved the English language and wanted to write the next great American Novel at 17 (although we were thwarted by our teacher). Instead we wrote an epic about Biggie and Tupac and called it a day. 

Chocolate ice cream fight in Motown freshman year!

At UNC, we roomed together. We borrowed each other's clothes, heard distinct clinks and held funeral dirges for hamsters. Motown, Frathouses, Rugby parties, The Bugle Brothel, we did it. I am thankful that social media was not a reality then... 

Our new yearly Girls Getaway Retreat, Ocean City, baby!

She is my sounding board, another person in crazy mother guilt land with me. She's the one who calls to check on me or just to check in. How's the whole family?  Her sister and son both have my middle name (Byrne). It was meant to be!

Charlotte will find her ride or die soulmate one day. If not, we know she and Andrea's son Markie will probably end up at UNC around the same time anyway...

We've been dating for three months. Wanna go to Vegas?
Hells yes! 

A decade hence, at 27, I met David. He checked all the boxes. Cute, college educated (I can live with UVA), good job, and family oriented. We talked all night on the phone and very soon spent every moment we could together even though we lived an hour apart. Because of him, I took a chance at my dream job (Jostens) and we moved to Virginia Beach together. Come to find out, sales are not my thing. But I tried. And I wouldn't have tried had it not been for him.  I also never would have known how much I love teaching without taking that chance and leaving it for a few years.

Accurate.

After successfully raising a beautiful Lab, we figured children would be a breeze. Not so much. We do have two beautiful children. But come to find out, they cannot be Dog Whispered quite as easily as our dog. They are a special kind of crazy. They fight and scream and don't listen. We love them and we're happy we have them, but good LAWD!  There is no break from the insanity. But the craziness is so much easier together with him.

He cooks and cleans. He sings while he cleans...love... 

He brushes the girls' hair. His ponytails are ten times better than mine. He keeps me sane. I know that no matter what we bicker about, when the hard stuff goes down, he is there to pick me up. And I love that he does all the messy things like this morning when my tires were flat and he came out and filled them right back up. I need this in my life. 

We have been through dark times, but "the best way out is always through" and we made it to the light. Without him, I would not have gotten through losing both my parents.

He is my person. We also have our own language...

Smiling through the pain.

At 37, I met myself. I had always had my mother to tell me what to do. Or how to do it. Or help me do it. Or just do it for me. Now, she "guides my sword" but not physically. She can't come get the kids if they're sick. She can't take them for a few days when I am at my wits' end. She can't give me day to day advice.  I have had to buck up and do it myself. I have a wonderful husband and great friends, but a lot of things, I just have to do myself. I realize that is a foreign concept to me whereas many people have been doing this forever, but it's scary to be drifting around in the universe without an anchor. 

So, I created rope ladders.

I have finally embraced a freedom of sorts. I am becoming less stressed. I'm trying to do things that fill the void within ME.  I discovered Jazzercise. I have NEVER, ever enjoyed working out or going to therapy. But Jazzercise is my therapy. I can dance, workout, have an hour to myself, and get healthy. I also have new friends. Other than my wonderful work friends, it's really hard to just make new good friends when you're old...well...I found them. They do the crazy dance with me. They watch me work out like Phoebe running on "Friends" and still like me, so I can get behind that! 

Jazzercise loves me. They really love me.

I am thankful for all of the friendships that have given me my voice in the past year. I am thankful for Table Talks. I am thankful for Voxer. I am thankful that I can hear Leigh's voice and Andrea's voice on a mommy timeline-when we have two minutes without children yelling our name.  And these are the words keeping me sane, helping me find me. I'm also closer to my children because of the fact that I am always with them. I don't think we ever would have been this close without the smothering that comes with summer.

Seven is an archetypal number. It's actually the perfect number, bringing together the trinity of three and the four earthly elements.  It is the symbolic number of perfection, security, safety, and rest. I think this is why Charlotte turning 7 resonates within me as I hope it does within her too.

Chucks and a pretty dress.
My Charlotte turns 7.