Where there's a WILL . . .

The coffee table conversation quiets to a near whisper when it’s been mentioned that one of the couples present has an appointment Monday afternoon to speak with their lawyer about having a will written up. Eyes dart uncomfortably around the room and a palpable level of tension can now be felt. Someone played the “death” card, or so it would seem to outside observers.

While we have all heard the old adage, “the only absolutes in life are death and taxes” we continue to do what we can to ignore the former. When we have a family then it becomes that much more frightening to acknowledge that we won’t be around forever and so we “bury our heads” in the proverbial sand and seem to assume that if we don’t do anything formal then a need to decide who will care for our children in our stead will never arise.

Have you, as parents, taken the time to talk about this possibility? Have you been honest with yourselves about who the best caregivers would be for your children if you were no longer able to meet that obligation? Have you thought about how the finances would be sorted to ensure that your children are able to be adequately provided for?

There are a few different ways to put a will together. If you have the time and the financial resources I strongly recommend that you consider finding a lawyer to put your documents together. When I asked if my Tweeps on Twitter had created a will @AureliaCotta was quick to say, “Yes, but please tell people to get a lawyer or legal clinic to help, it's the best money they'll ever spend.” If you are simply not able to fund having your requests compiled by a professional then the other options are to purchase a “Do-It-Yourself” will kit (online or at a bookstore) or to handwrite something out which outlines your requests. With the latter two options I do recommend having your signatures witnessed by two different and unrelated people. This helps omit any chance of confusion in the future.

I’ve stated that I think you should, when possible, consult a lawyer for the drawing of your papers but my reason goes beyond the reality that it is the easiest route to take. Your lawyer is there to consider all possibilities for you and to ask you the questions you might not think to ask yourself about how you would like the see the cards play out in the world if you are not able to be here yourself. They will help you see value where you might think there isn’t any, they may help you determine the best way to choose executors, they may even help you make allowances for subsequent life eventualities which you hadn’t even considered.

A lawyer may suggest asking someone other than the executor/executrix of your estate to be the person to care for your children. Why would this make a difference? Perhaps it offers you the opportunity to feel secure that the financial decisions, which will need to be made for your children, are thought about and discussed by more than one individual.

Has the person you’ve asked to care for the children in the event of your death, a relationship with members of your family on both sides? Why? This might make it easier for ensuring a strong connection to all family members who would like to stay active in the lives of your growing babies.

What if one of you dies before the other? How will you manage in the interim as you cope with the grief of your loss while meeting the needs of your children? Are there provisions that may be included to ensure everyone is as happy, supported, knowledgeable as possible in such circumstances? Living wills, powers-of-attorney, etc. are also important considerations.

There isn’t any doubt that a will is a necessity for parents. I know, as I have said, that even thinking about the possibility of not being around to watch your children grow up is heartbreaking. It is not something that any parent wants to consider. This reason alone should be solely responsible for you taking the steps to secure the future you have mentally mapped out for these small individuals who mean more to you than your own life does. Be there for them in death as often and in as many ways as you have been in life.

POSTED BY SAM

GUEST POST from Michelle at doudou bebe

My baby boy just turned three and my baby girl will be six soon. Every year since I became a mother, this is a tough time. I love planning the birthdays: the cakes, the venue, the decorations and all, but their birthdays are a reminder that their birth days were really quite terrible days in every way except that I became their mother that day. I didn’t really realize how important it was to me until my daughter said she’d rather just have a friend over – I felt the anxiety well up in me at the thought of not having the ‘party’ project to distract me.

I envy, deeply, mothers who can tell those great birth stories – home births, water births, hospital births, heck, even c-sections. Details don’t matter so much as that they remember it with joy that they can recount it for their children. I know they are not fairy tales, but they feel that way to me sometimes and I am sad that I have none of these to share.

Both kids were born among waves of illness and fear and dread with none of the things I had wished for them or myself. It’s hard to tell the story of the good parts without explaining just how terrible the bad parts were. My midwives were my nervous system when I couldn’t process any more, my handrails on the brink of total collapse. Their father was my rock, my enforcer, his hands like a giant’s around their tiny bodies. My tiny little red birds who worked so hard to make me be their mother, rewarding us with thriving rounded cheeks and a house filled with giggles.

It’s a happy ending story that has its heroes and someday I know I’ll figure out a way to tell that to them. For them. I just don’t know how long it takes. If you don’t have a happy story to tell, you can still have the happy ending and that the sad parts of the story do get less important as the happy parts get bigger. I know they do – and hopefully someday, I won’t need to even look for distractions anymore.

But, for now, I’ll bury it in buttercream and ball pits and… Face painting anyone?