Sunshine and Saturdays...

Joy. Letting it settle into my bones and wrap me up in it's warmth as comfy as my favorite sweat pants.

Sitting here drinking tea and eating an embarrassing amount of Halloween candy while the washer and dryer hum away in time with the dishwasher.  The Halloween totes have been lugged up from the basement and are sitting in the living room--ready to be refilled with all of our Halloween decor and lugged back down said stairs till ghoul time next year.  All too soon, it will be time to get the Christmas decorations out.  For now, I will put our orange and black away, dust, and bring out our one Thanksgiving decoration--a little pilgrim boy riding on top of a turkey.  Seems fitting for this house :).
Max and Marty are at basketball camp today.  Marty has decided to coach with his buddy, Paul.  This makes my heart happy.  Max seems to do better when his daddy is coaching.  He seems far less anxious and he is able to have more fun.  His new basketball shoes looked HUGE when he took them out of the box this morning--but low and behold, they fit.  My boy has become a giant :)!
Griffyn is working on more "projects" at the kitchen table which is scattered with glue bottles, glitter, construction paper, scissors, stickers, markers, oil pastels, and all art things imaginable.  He loves to create--and I will do everything in my power to facilitate this messy business of creation.  That, and it keeps him busy for quite some time :).  As he is cutting and gluing and creating "my duys"--we have the best conversations.  He told me that he really wants to be a grown up and doesn't want to be a "yittle tid" anymore.  When I asked him why he said, "So I tan be in charge and say fings yike, 'Det in da tar' and 'tlean up dis mess!'".  Oh goodness!  So THAT'S what I sound like!
This week has been a little crazy (how often do I write that?!? ;)), but winding down to a comfortable lull of familiar crazy now.  As most of you have heard me whine about being sick for the past few months upon months, a visit to the ENT brought up a concern that was rather scary for this momma--the possibility of a brain tumor.  My vision issues and intense pain and pressure within my ears (which are just fine and lovely) along with a host of other issues, caused Dr. Schulte to schedule an MRI yesterday.  An experience I don't really ever want to do again--for those of you who are claustrophobic and have a hard time lying perfectly still for 40 minutes while your head and neck are trapped in a Hannibal Lecter like mask contraption that snaps over your face--you'll understand.  The dye did not take kindly to my veins which decided to close thus causing the combination of dye and saline to go underneath my skin--which felt like someone had lit a match and set me on fire--all while NOT being able to move and being encased like a sausage in a very scary loud magnetic and photographic device.  I thought of my friend, Nicole, who has endured so much in the form of chemo, radiation, surgery, and test after test after test--I thought of her and was able to be still...
Dr. Schulte is amazing.  He has given both of my boys tubes, removed Max's tonsils and adenoids, and been such an integral key to keeping this fam healthy--which is no small task with this asthma/sinus/allergy bunch.  He encourages me to be a warrior for my family's health--even when people don't understand.  In short, we love him.  He checked out my pokes to make sure all was well, and asked if I'd like him to read the MRI first then come back and get me--or if we should just go in and read them together.  At this point in the waiting game, I chose the later.  We sat side by side, going through each image as he explained what he was looking for.  Pretty amazing experience to be able to see the inside of your brain!  Surreal and awesome--God made us all so complex!  I couldn't help but notice there was a lovely little heart in the middle of my brain where both hemispheres connected.  "No one has ever said that before," Dr. Schulte chuckled.  Preschool teachers notice these things ;).  We were looking for symmetry--and all was good.  No tumors.  Nothing strange or suspicious.  I had a beautiful brain!  SO relieved--yet, what next? 
Dr. Schulte believes I have something called Mal de Debarquement Syndrome (MdDs).  It is often experienced by "women my age" who have been on a boat, roller coaster, or experienced a situation of traumatic imbalance of some kind.  He honed in on this when I had mentioned that all of this horrible pain started happening after I rode on the roller coaster at Adventureland this summer with my niece.  I got off the roller coaster and felt like I was still on it--the feeling just wouldn't leave.  The sensation of pain in the ears, dizziness, imbalance, nausea, etc. can last from months to years (the mean being 3.5 years).  It can also be caused by a variant of a migraine (which I also have) and my migraines have been getting worse and stranger (vision issues that are just scary) as well.  There is no cure.  You just wait it out.  Some medications can help ease the discomfort of the issues, however.  Yay--more pills!  He has referred me on to a neurologist.  I had both of Dr. Hansen's children in preschool, and his office is full of mommies whose children I care for, so I know I will be in good hands.  He comes highly recommended by a very dear friend of mine as well (love you, Sara).  In the mean time, my regular doctor (am I getting that old that I have to differentiate my docs? ;)) wants to chat on Monday about possible things we can do to make these issues a bit more bearable (my kidneys need a break from all the ibuprofen ;)).  I am sooooo relieved to know it is nothing life threatening--just annoying :).  I can handle annoying--I just may be a bit more so myself ;).
Griffyn is asking me to come and check out all the creatures he has made (googly eyes are the bomb!!!) and this Halloween stuff won't pack up itself!  So thankful for an extra hour this weekend and beyond excited to visit the Black family and cuddle baby McKenna tomorrow!  Need to bake something yummy for the Black crew!  Love to y'all and continued prayers going up for those on the East Coast!!!!  So thankful my sisters are all safe and sound!  Enjoy your Saturday and the sunshine (and time to rewarm this cup of Zen). 

 

I get by with a little help from my friends...

This gray dreariness is not helping this momma who just wants to curl up in bed and sleep for days.  Attempted workout that has been abandoned for the past two weeks due to illness, and in my pathetic attempt, fell off that darn balance ball--hitting myself in the hip with my meager ten pound weight on the way down.  Ouch.  Balance still off, but was hoping to fight through it so some extent.  Treadmill fared no better.  Dizzy and a rotating belt do not mix.  Stupid ears!  Hoping to be able to sweat and lift soon.  As G says, "Momma, you detting squisshy!".
Marty is now sick--just in time for conferences--and our busy, busy weekend.  Is there any other kind?  Long night with Maxaroo last night and tough morning getting to school.  He has his conference tonight and is worried he's 'failing everything'.  A+'s and great grades and over and above average bench mark scores can't seem to convince him otherwise.  Such is the nature of the beast.  Griffyn, on the other hand, is all grins and giggles.  Seems he has a new "dirlfriend" at school he likes to "wub teeks with, not tiss, so don't worry, Momma".  I must have given him some kind of disapproving look because very defensively he said, "We tan't help it, Momma!  We're dust SO TUTE!!!". (yes, he is currently seeing someone for his speech--and he is convinced she is teaching him Spanish...) Two very different boys.
So, as my body is healing and my muscles wasting away, and I gag down yet another banana (this antibiotic I've been subjugating my body to for the past two weeks sucks out potassium which can lead to serious tendon breakage issues--like I need more--so I need to eat potassium rich foods--was really hoping it would be cupcakes--HA!) and ibuprofen for this darn headache, I concede defeat.  Not 'hold my head down in shame' defeat, just I will admit 'I can not do and be all that I want to be right now' defeat.  Hopefully soon, but just not now (giant bruise on hip as gentle reminder).
And I am also reminded of something far more positive.  The awesome love I have in my life.  Aside from my blessing of family with my gorgeous boys, I have the most loving and amazing friends.  Friends who don't mind that my heart is too connected to my mouth and not often enough to my brain, who say 'I love you' in words and action, who love my boys, and fill up my heart and soul lest it should be empty, who remind me of God's love and increase my faith.  These woman are my sisters and I love them so.  There is no competition, no gossip, no feeling of 'having to measure up' to some enigma of standards that make you a 'better person'.  Just me, just us, wading through the trenches of this life together with God in our hearts and hands available to steady our walk when those trenches get extra sucky and murky.
And through all of our busy, we have each other's hearts, backs, souls in mind--and though it's very difficult for me to ask for 'help'--I know they are always there.  Beautiful blessings, each and every one.  Love you and so thankful for you.  And thank you for giving me the strength to "plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep, and swim far..." in the words of my Emerson--or, in the words or our beloved "Dory" to, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming..." 

Hugs always!

This Merry Go Round

"Mother's love is peace.

It need not be acquired,

it need not be deserved."

Erich Fromm

 

 

Taking a moment with a cup of tea to just relax and meditate after the general stress and crazy of these past few weeks.  This motherhood gig is one wild ride at times, and these past few months I have wanted to jump off the merry go round on more than one occasion.  Gravel, sand, black top--didn't matter where I landed--I just wanted to stop...

Being sick never helps my body or mind, and this incessant sinus and ear infection has been a bit of a downer.  There is no time for rest.  As mommies, we push through.  For me, this involved teaching three ten hour days of preschool on zero (and I mean zero) hours of sleep, picking up the boys, and going through the motions of motherhood in the evenings with my loves solo.  The weeks were like this along with the weekends, and I would cry once the boys were down at my intolerance for any "misbehavior",  my complete lack of patience for Max's issues and fears, and my inability to read books at bedtime (headache and vertigo make reading a nightmare) or do our nightly bedtime songs as we barely pushed through prayers.  I was in pain, I was tired, I couldn't sleep, felt insanely inadequate, and I felt so alone.  In short, a falling apart mess.

Several trips to the doctor later, along with several antibiotics and prednisone and a scheduled trip to the ENT for mommy (tubes?) this coming week, my oldest was also dealing with the battle that is his world.  Max has struggled with anxiety and some OCD germ obsessions since kindergarten.  At this point in his life, he was starting a new school ,we were moving, and his baby brother was born.  Heck, I was stressed.  For a kid who is not the best with change, this was quite a plateful of "new".  We have managed to keep things "under control" through prayer, an awesome sound machine (that I actually purchased for myself when I was pregnant to relax as I couldn't take my anti anxiety medication), meditation, walks, lots of talks, music, breathing exercises, extra family time, and anything I could get my hands on that seemed to make Max's world a saner and safer place.  While his OCD issues have subsided and are much less intense (except in the case of his brother, who LOVES to pick his nose and frequently forgets to wash his hands after going to the bathroom), his anxiety has sky rocketed.  We've been hoping to ride it out as a bad spell.  The bad spell is lasting a bit too long and affecting his sleep, his health, and his ever thinking and caring mind.  He has a HUGE heart and internalizes a lot--which makes him a "freak" for boys his age (sad, because thoughtfulness and kindness CAN be boy attributes as well). 

Because Max has dealt with this for the past five years, he is very aware of what he has and that many of the things he feels, thinks, hears, sees, are "irrational" (I use that world loosely because this world is just a giant mess of 'doesn't make sense' and 'irrational' to this momma)--but he feels them none-the-less.  He has the language.  He knows when he's having a panic attack that he's not going to really die, but it feels that way.  He knows when he has horrendous stomach pains and aches that he's not sick, "that's just my anxiety".  He knows he doesn't have to be perfect, but he's hell bent on trying regardless.  Knowing doesn't always take away the feeling--and as a mommy who battles this disorder myself, knowing my son is in the same pain and prison I feel is just the biggest heart break.  He manages to keep it "under control" during his school days, then "lets it all out" (my speak) at home.  During a long conversation attempting to calm him down, he told me people would hate him at school if he acted the way he did at home (acted out his feelings), but he knows that I will love him anyway, so he's not afraid to express that intense emotion at home.  Well this makes my heart happy to know that he understands he's got momma's unconditional love 100%, I (however selfish you may think this sounds) need a break from it and some help in dealing with it and deactivating it.  I can't show him how draining and exhausting it is for me because he will feel so bad--and he often apologizes profusely that "I'm so stupid" (stupid meaning he knows he shouldn't feel the things he is feeling but does).  And the heart ache continues as I know he doesn't want to be stuck in this cycle any more than I do.  Where to go from here?

So we set up a few more appointments with our family doctor, to rule anything else out and get some help for Max beyond what this mommy can provide.  I became very frustrated these past weeks as it became abundantly clear that it is far easier to medicate your child than it is to find a child psychologist or behavioral therapist that can give your child the tools he needs to battle this disorder.  I was told to look up specialists online and fax the list to my doctor.  Not very many names were covered under our insurance (in the category of "children" or "pediatrics") and they were all unknowns to me--unknown people that would, hopefully, listen to the inner workings of my child's mind and heart--and I felt like I was spinning a wheel and throwing a couple of darts with my eyes closed--blindly choosing wherever the dart would stick.  And it made me angry.  

I have a pretty solid foundation in psychology through my studies at Simpson and through work in a couple of psychiatric facilities.  I know that these drugs are not created or made for children's growing minds and bodies.  I have also seen the effects of what some of these drugs can do to these little ones later on in life--giving them issues they never had to begin with--and not necessarily enhancing their quality of life in any way.  I am not saying that drugs are 'bad' in every situation, and we may have to revisit that conversation later--but right now, at this point, I would rather exhaust all other possible options for my child--and the fact that my doctor could prescribe an Rx in an instant for my child's anxiety disorder, but it takes weeks of research and phone calls and wading through insurance bureaucracy to find some other form of help for my son just thoroughly made me sick.  I couldn't help but feel for the children of this country along with my own.  I was overwhelmed and felt like more resources were most likely out there--I just wasn't aware of them--and I continued to search.

Finally, after the advice of a great friend (love you, Niki), I decided to reach out to a college peer of mine who's little ones I'd had in preschool, who also happens to be one of the most amazing pediatricians around (thoroughly phenomenal!).  Not only did she give me a name, she gave me a phone number --all covered under the umbrella of our insurance coverage -- and a background on this therapist as well as many positive scenarios.  I was able to look this therapist up online, see what her specialties were, and am prepared to make a call Monday to get the process started for getting some help for my son.  I can breathe again.  Such a burden has been lifted.  I will have to make a few "cancellations" Monday as well, as after all the calls I had been making, our answering machine is rather filled with psychiatrists wanting to set up consults.  I am so grateful to this very busy momma and doctor for taking the time to give me information I needed, recommendations, and love and support.  I am so very, very thankful!  From the bottom of my heart thankful!

So while being amped up on prendisone and in so much pain I wanted to jab a screw driver though my ears, and barely putting one foot in front of the dizzy other, God managed to work through it all for his glory.  He loves my kids even more than I do, and through it all, I kept telling myself "it'll be okay...  it's going to be all right...  God has a plan, God has a plan..."  And sure enough, he did...

I'm still exhausted, but I have peace.  I know Max will get the help he needs that I can not give him.  It will be a journey we will make together, hand in hand, heart to heart--and this kid is gonna change the world through everything he touches.  Sticking up for friends who are being teased and bullied at school, looking out for others, and supporting and encouraging those he loves--he already does.  I know that I am looking forward to this ENT appointment and have to chuckle at the fact that this wonderful surgeon who has been a part of our family since the boy's infancy and put tubes in both my babies ears may also be putting tubes in mine.  I know that now that cross country season is over, I will have a husband that will be home more to help me balance and juggle this all.  I don't even care if he's gone every weekend.  Being gone most of the week and the weekend was just taking it's toll.  I know that in all things, God will give me strength and that he loves me and my boys with the biggest love and that he will ALWAYS take care of us--regardless of how much I fall apart.  I know that the greatest words to fall on this mommy's ears are, "I love you, mommy" by a ten year old who just wants to be loved and accepted by a world who defines being a boy to such a suffocatingly narrow degree.  I will continue to fight to show him that his heart and mind are just too awesome to be accepted by mediocrity and that we fully are aware of just what an amazing kid he is.

Our family doctor told Max that this anxiety is something he will have to deal with his entire life (insert big sigh on Maxaroo's part) and we would find the tools to help him make it "manageable". And so here we are, trying our best to manage things--through the help of God, our health care community, our friends, and our families. And while I attempt to stave off the feelings of guilt as I often wonder if genetically, I somehow passed all of my "abnormal" quirks to my children, I will continue to move forward and strive to give them the best of myself one day at a time...

And through it all, these things I also know:  I know that I love my children--my own as well as the ones I teach--and that I will always do everything I can for them.  That is my purpose, and as long as I am able--I will do my best to love, protect, and cherish them for the treasures they are.  I know that this life is a gift, and I want to appreciate and value mine to the fullest and teach my sons that they are precious, valued, and loved beyond measure--divine creations of God that deserve respect--and teach them to treat others the very same.  With this comes worry and fear and anxiety, yes.  We live in a bully of a world -- from our schools, to the internet, to our work places -- and standing up to it all can be exhausting.  But it's worth it.  It's always worth it.  Because this world is NOT our home, and our treasures are laid up in heaven and the good Lord above has already conquered this mess of life.  We have only to trust and know that wherever we are, what ever we do, and where ever we go, he is already there...  Good or bad, he is already there...  And, as Griffyn's favorite bedtime song goes, "Jesus loves me, this I know..."  And that is really all we need to know.  Thank you, Lord.  Forever, thank you...

 

Much peace and love.



It's a mad, mad world...

Feeling a bit like Alice today.  Crazy evening the night before with no sleep--my youngest's cold making it impossible for him to sleep--thus morning work out plans derailed (that was ever so much needed to regain a sense of strength and sanity).  But we plug away.  Little G needed extra lovings as he was feeling yucky and was so sad to miss preschool and Maxaroo had teeth that needed to be pulled (the bottom ones were not loose, so the top ones were coming through his side gum line).  Our water heater had been going into "vacation mode" for the past few weeks and we were constantly running out of hot water, so got that fixed today as well.  All with a raging headache.  Now for some rest and cuddles with the boys--and hopes for a more sane tomorrow.  Our small town's homecoming is this weekend, so Daddy is cheering on our Wildcats for us!  The boys are sad they are having to miss it...

Looking forward to fallish things--apple and pumpkin picking, our days at Cambridge, making yummy fall treats, the chill in the air, the changing of the colors (however, not the worsening of the stirring up of our allergies), cozy fires, and the homeyness that fall brings.  Marty's busy with football, football and more football.  Gives us some quiet weekends with just me and the boys time that I love as well.  We get a lot of that in the fall :).

The boys want to get the Halloween decorations out this weekend and as I LOVE this "holiday", that involves three totes worth of pumpkins, ghosts and goblins.  Since Christmas decorations are already gracing department stores, we might as well.  I know I'll have two very happy little helpers.

Truly, our days at Howell's and Cambridge (Center Grove) are my absolute favorite out of the entire year.  How many times can we go before Christmas?  I heard they even have season passes to Cambridge.  May be something worth looking into.  Nothing better than digging into nature and clean open country air to liven and restore the soul and spirit. 

Bed time for this tired mommy.  Will be dreaming fallish dreams and wondering how many different ways one can bake pumpkin and cream cheese yumminess :).  Love and peace...

Days like these...

 

"Behold I stand at the door and knock."  Oh no, Lord.  I'm banging with both fists...

I've gotten to that point this week--this point--the point where I start asking God THOSE questions...

Lord, I know you have placed these situations in my life, this thing, that thing and the other, for  reasons--unknown to me--and I need to be, MUST be, grateful for them.  These things help me grow, make me stronger, push me farther--draw me to you...

These past few months I've quit running altogether.  My knees ache and my joints refuse to even jog.  The joy was completely gone.  Maybe I will be able to actually run again some day (not just limp about), but for now--I'm trying something new.  I've taken up free weights and core workouts--which began with sore muscles I never knew I had--and has progressed slowly--not that it's ever really easier--I am just able to walk and get dressed the next day without wincing ;).  It's exciting to see those muscles build, to feel stronger, and therefore somehow more capable (not that I'm ever taking anyone on in a back ally ;))...

And I'm finding my faith is kind of like that.  God is flexing my faith muscles.  Making them stronger.  Teaching me I can do the sets--repeatedly--and that I will get stronger and live another day :).  I hear Gunnar's voice in my head telling me to "make it dynamic".  God is wanting me to make this life dynamic too, and that doesn't just happen--that involves putting in the time and lots of hard work. 

But then there are weeks, months of this stuff of life that are just so draining.  Last night I was reading through my Bible study after getting the boys down after a rough night and just started crying.  No reason.  Just crying.  Here we go again.  My body is so worn out, this is what it does--sheds water--catharsis, release?  Or maybe just crazy...  And I know at times that it's because I'm missing my companion, husband--just talking to another human being that KNOWS this stuff on a level no one else does--but God is always there.  And he never gets tired of listening...

And so I pray; God thank you for blessing me with so much--the responsibility of these preschoolers and children that are in my care at "my office",  my own little loves that looks to me for everything, this whole wife gig, and for my family and friends that are as close as family.  I most graciously thank you.  And I remember this verse...
 

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."  James 1:2-4  Through all of this, God is helping me "grow up".  Yes, even this woman who feels like she never really had a chance to be a kid needs some help in the "growing up" department :).

 



God, you must also have faith I can handle this--or you are giving me more to draw me closer to you--to depend on you--because you know I have a really hard time giving it all to you and truly, truly letting go.  That weight is one I am not meant to carry alone--nor can I effectively without hurting myself. 

And I am reminded, "The bruising and crushing and melting process is designed to reshape you, not ruin you."  Reshaping--a little bruising, melting and possible crushing--but I will not be ruined.  If the past has taught me nothing but this, I know that I will not be ruined...

And this mommy thing is tough.  I've always been "odd, different, weird' (insert eclectic adjective of choice) and I know to my core how much that can hurt growing up--heck, even NOW!  And I grow so tired of a world that does not except children who do not fit into some stereotypical mold or category.  It quite literally, breaks my heart.  Tiny pieces--all over the floor...  And so I teach my kids to embrace it--even be proud of it--different is good.  Who wants to be status quo?  Really, look around, status quo is pretty blech right now.  It's not getting this world anywhere better, that's for sure.  John reminds us, "Do not be surprised, my brothers, if the world hates you.  We know that we have passed from death to life, because we love our brothers.  Anyone who does not love remains in death."  1 John 3:13-14.  Tough stuff, John, but encouraging as well.  Except and love those that are different--even if that different is you.  God does.  That's who he created you to be--and darlings, we don't need to argue with God on that point.  God made Max the Max that he is for a specific reason just as he made Griffyn the Griffyn he is for a specific reason--however different those reasons may be--embrace it, love it, and respect it.  That's who Jesus died for... 

And being different takes a toughness, a strength that those "normal" people just don't get ;).  So, let's praise God for that.  We see things differently because we have been places most people haven't--and honey, we've survived.  With a few cracks and kinks and quirks, my love, but we've SURVIVED.  Can I get an hallelujah and an amen?!?  Those trials, well they give you a voice where you were once silent, empathy and understanding you may not have had, they make you want to help, to heal, and they strengthen your faith and give you a confidence in God (that, 'I know I wouldn't be alive without you' confidence in God) that makes you tough as nails.  No matter how hard that hammer hits, you know with God's strength, you can take it.  What stronger assurance of faith can we have then our dear Lord and Savior seeing us through the darkest of times time and time again!?!  And they make you a fighter.  You fight for what's right, you fight for those you love, and you may be afraid--but you just can't help yourself.  That lion inside just has to roar...

And yet, God has to soften that toughness for me by bringing me back--drawing me to him daily with things I can't do without him.  Issues with my kids, my job, family--and usually all at once ;)...  Because I want to do what is right, not what is easy--I want to do what God would want from me, and not what I desire.  You stick with it, you persevere, and you believe with all of your heart, mind, body and soul that there is PURPOSE in the pain, PURPOSE in the discipline.  My friends, there is most certainly and always purpose.  "No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful.  Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it"  Hebrews 12:11.  I'm growing a bountiful garden and pray upon my soul that God can harvest righteousness from this vessel He created. 

These verses also help when that hammer strikes...  "But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who BELIEVE and are SAVED."  Hebrews 10:39  "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."  Hebrews 11:1  We KNOW to our core what will be--we've got the ending to our stories--eternal life and salvation forever with those who love the Lord.  That much is very clear.  And how glorious is that?  This other stuff?  It's all about the journey and how we bring glory to God through those tough struggles, trials, and through our day to day life.  It all matters, friends--it all matters... 

God knows my heart.  He knows I am trying to do my best.  And worry is not my master, nor fear, nor approval, nor any societal "expectation" I may place on myself.  And I take comfort in this verse that clearly delineates where my priorities should be, "And now, dear children, continue in him, so that when he appears we may be confident and unashamed before him at his coming."  1 John 2:28 (don't you love it when God call us "dear children"? :)).  Confident and unashamed.  At what ever cost it may appear or feel to be to me, I will do my very best for my God and have faith in his plan for my life and for those I love all around me.

So, I'll keep flexing these faith muscles for my kids, the ones and love, and more over--for Him.  And I may always feel like an alien of sorts in this big old world, but that's okay with me.  Cause this big old world, well, it's not my home now is it? 

Much peace, much love, and muscle building to you all.  And prayer?  Well, that's the next best thing to ibuprofen ;).  Keep on fighting the good fight, and don't forget you are never, ever alone...

"C" is for "Coffee"

Oh goodness, friends, this morning came WAY too early!!! 

We had a wonderful evening with friends, such great food and some wine after another rough week, and the boys played long into the night with their buddies Jack and Nate while we grown ups got to sit and talk.  Heaven!  Speaking of, Griffyn experienced his own nirvana and had a toy gun in his hand for most of the evening (I may have to succumb--the kid is kind of obsessed with them--"dust toy ones, mom, NOT weal ones!" as he mentions in his prayers each and every night as a way to appease me ;)) and he and Jack honed their WWE skills while Max and Nate played football till red in the face outside and then had some fun making "movies" on the Ipad.  It always takes a bit to corral the boys to the van when they're having so much fun, but I think we were home by midnight ;).  As always, thanks to T and J for making us feel so at home!

Jammies, teeth, and even books were read (I tried not to rush through them but did deter a second reading of "Where The Wild Things Are")--and they went to bed very easily.  Max was excited for his early wake up call with Daddy as he went with Marty to Iowa City today to watch the Hawks play UNI.  Poor Max got about as much sleep as I did as Griffyn started screaming and having nightmares around 2 a.m.  Isn't that when the world always falls apart?  2 a.m.? ;)  It's been a few weeks of this now...

I don't know what it is about daddies, or maybe it's just my husband, that they are always completely deaf to the sounds of their children screaming in the middle of the night.  So, it's me that gets up.  Marty continued to snore on as the blurry, dark image of my huge boy child loomed in front of me (which was startling and nightmarish enough for me to awaken to--enough of my nightmares are made up of that stuff)--"Griffyn's crying and yelling and he won't stop, Mom".

So we trudge to the boy's room and there's G, thrashing about and screaming, "NO!  DOE AWAY!!!" 

"Be careful, Mom, when I tried to hug him, he punched me.  So just be careful please, Mom."  Max gave me a big hug and heaved that big boy body back up to the top bunk.  Ahhhhh, night terrors.  "I'll be okay, honey.  Thanks for coming and getting me, and I'm sorry I didn't hear."  I usually do--but must have just crashed after a week of no sleep.

Trying to calm the storm that was G, rubbing his back, whispering to him that mommy was here and everything was okay as he rolled from side to side, not awake but not sleeping either.  Eventually he settled down and his breathing became soft and rhythmic again.  Kisses and plodded on down the hallway to rejoin my snoring husband who's sleep wasn't interrupted in the least.  I had just closed my eyes when Max was back, "Um, Mom, sorry but Griffyn says he needs you."  And all I could think about was how ridiculously tired Max was going to be in a few hours.  Hopefully he could get some sleep on the drive to IC...

There sat Griff--a mad, dejected mess.  All four pillow pets thrown off his bed, blankets all askew, and his beloved horses and "feebras" peppered all over the place.  "I dust need you, Momma.  I tan't det the bad fings outta my head!!!  Why did you leeb me?!?" 
"What bad things, honey?"  I asked, skipping over the abandonment issue (best mom EVER! ;)).  "I don't wanna even FINK about it, Momma, tause den it dets BACK in my head!"  Okay, understood, picked him up and cuddled.  "I need to sweep wif you, Mommy, tause den I won't be cared."  and then a soft voice from Max comes, "Can I just sleep by you on the floor?".  By now, it's after 3 a.m. and I really, really just want to close my eyes and could sleep on a pile of rocks and barbed wire at this point--so two boys and one mommy make the trek back to Mommy and Daddy's room--where Daddy is STILL snoring, blissfully unaware of our adventures.

I know this phase will pass for Griffyn.  Max went through it too--and it's usually worse when we're so busy and he doesn't get enough sleep.  And no matter what time G goes to bed, he always gets up early.  He's just got way too much to do.  He's a light sleeper--and despite an air purifier, two night lights and his light up pillow pet--his imagination is scarier to him than anything he's ever seen or any story he's ever heard. Most of the time he can't remember what his bad dream was about, although I can sometimes tell by whatever he's yelling.  It's usually about a friend hurting him or someone he loves getting hurt.  He's saved his precious baby Grace from many ferocious beasts!

We WILL be taking a nap today.  This week has kicked my b-u-t-t (and pretty much everything else).  Never have been a good sleeper, but after getting woken up so many times, I just can't fall back asleep anymore.  And who has the luxury of sleeping in when there's work and preschool to get to? And this husband of mine has been so busy with cross country meets and teaching that it's all me at the end of the day too--and with football--the weekends are, you guessed it, me too.  So Griff and I will be having a lounge around, easy day today (got that, G?) :).  We may leave the house to explore our beloved bike path, but that's it.  This momma is hunkering down... ;)

So thankful for the time to be home and always love every minute I get to spend with these boys!  Always being tired is just part of being a mommy to these two lovies, and I know so many of us are in the same boat.  There really is no such thing as balance at this point--although I often can give myself the illusion of such a thing--it's really day by day, and moment by blessed moment--and finding the thankfulness and joy in it all--and that is perfectly fine with me.  I KNOW I will miss this all and it will go by all too fast...

With family walks and much more reading and Bible study time, we are doing a better job of staying connected as a family--and that's the most important thing to me right now.  I don't want to lose out on that precious communication with Max (or G, but Max's world is a bit more complicated to navigate than G's at the moment so it takes a bit more of that communication ;)).  This ten year old terrain is a whole new ball game (HA!) for me.  He's a little grown up and little kid all smushed into one anxious, loving, soft hearted, germ obsessed, worrisome, absent minded (poor kid takes after me--but with all that stuff going on in his head, something has to give), sports loving, art loving (creating comic books is his new thing), prayerful, big yet little being--and I need to be mindful of his world and what he's going through and the struggles he faces.  And I need to be always listening and just taking the time to be there--be present.  Things come out at the oddest times.  And just making those times together available is so important to me.  Guess I'm just one of those really weird mommy's that covets and really enjoys and needs to spend time with her kids :).   So no, he won't be rushing off to a friends house the minute we pull into the drive way after I haven't seen them all blessed day!  And the fact that Max would rather spend time home than always be running off and playing with his buddies (although he enjoys that too) makes me realize that HE is needing and wanting this time also.  And he's beginning to navigate those waters of friendship and family and I'm loving that he is still loving to have his Mom time.  And I'm sure he will enjoy his Dad time today at Kinnick and hoping the Hawks can catch a ball or two ;)...

I digress...  which you are all used to... :)

More caffeine please, and safe travels to everyone headed to games near and far and may your team win.  I plan on nursing a headache on the couch--and may even endure an episode of Sponge Bob or two to get said couch time.  What a week!  I keep saying that, don't I?  ;)

Peace, love and happy weekend to all!  Hope there are cozy blankets, pillows, and naps in your futures--or at least enough coffee to make it through the day with your eyes open :)!

At the end of the day...

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

 

 

Old nonsense.  I gotta lot of it.  Creeps into my day to day, sometimes sabotaging it, often times not letting me get any sleep for weeks at a time, ruining my mood, depleting me of my energy.  I'm tempted to get a garbage can and label it "old nonsense" for nothing more than a visible metaphor for my soul.
 

Punky kids this weekend.  Sick boys with stomach and head aches and scratchy throats.  Daddy was up at before the crack of dawn for the only thing he ever gets up at the crack of dawn for--Hawkeye football--so it was just me and two whiny kids (granted the whining was justified) all day and into the night as they always need to sleep with mommy when they're sick.  Today was my turn.  And Marty was very tired--from previous said day in IC.  Not much of a weekend.

 

And I've just been really sad a lot.  No reason other than stress, I suppose, and just crazy, crazy, crazy times at work.  Trying to remember which bruises came from which kids kicking, punching, and hitting frenzies as I shower--not to mention hoping I get all the spit out of my hair as that seems to be the trend along with the rage. 

 

Preschool is getting to be a violent world anymore with parents who don't really seem to care.  And certainly, there are those that most decidedly do--they want to know how their child's day went and how they behaved--and the ones that worry the most are the ones that have the kids we need to worry about the least.  They don't come in to pick up or drop off talking on their cell phones, they come in talking to their child and exchanging conversation with me.  They are connected.  I just wish they were in the majority. 

 

Each year it seems to get worse.  I'll be at this 12 years in January.  I used to feel like I really made a difference.  Now I just feel used up, exhausted, and disrespected.  If I ever personally got a call from my child's teacher along the lines of "your child just punched me in the eye after throwing chairs around the classroom" (I have this habit of getting down to the child's level, that I can't seem to break, when ever I talk to a child--maybe I should try harder to break that habit), I would be beyond mortified and could not apologize to the teacher enough.  Instead I get responses to these physical aggressions of hitting, kicking, biting, etc. like "he doesn't do that at home" or "did he hit you very hard?" or "we were out of town these past few days and she's just tired" or absolutely no response at all. I am completely blown away by all of this.  What is happening to our kids and our families that we have become so completely excepting of this violence towards teachers and their peers?

 

I attribute some of this to what they see.  Some of my preschool kids have seen movies my ten year old has yet to see--all the super hero and comic book genres as well as Transformers 3.  I really don't think this helps.  This isn't just me being judgemental.  The Children's Academy of Pediatrics backs me on this too.  And they seem to have unlimited access to video games and TV.  Gone, or so it seems to be, are the days of reading to our kids, playing outside, or doing anything in general together that doesn't involve electronics or a big screen.  And gone seems to be the respect from parents who used to see us as builders of the foundation for their children's futures.  Now we seem to be more along the lines of babysitters and indentured servants or people that can't get "real" jobs (that's my favorite).  They can say or do what ever they feel to us and we have to just smile and take it. 

 

I went to Simpson and graduated in the top ten percent of my class, magna cum laude, with honors in English and the Humanities with a feeling that I could do something with all that I had worked so hard to achieve.  I didn't necessarily want to change the world, but I wanted to substantially and positively effect it in some way.  So a cubicle didn't work for me.  I needed hands on connections with people.  I didn't necessarily plan on it being little people, but that was God's plan.

 

Psychology--with that came Behavioral Psych classes and many, many abnormal psych and child/adolescent psych classes.  I was able to work with a family that had an autistic child which I found to be both frustrating and rewarding.  I loved the challenge and the "connection" made in his world and was so inspired and fueled by that experience that I wanted desperately to change other people's ways of seeing these kids.  I often wonder how he's doing and what he's doing with his life right now.

 

I was also fortunate to work in a psychiatric facility (Westminster Houses I and II) the summer of my junior year.  From books to real life, it was a summer I will never forget.  There were things I was responsible for that I probably shouldn't have been and there were very scary things that happened that I wasn't prepared or trained for.  But I was able to see where some of these disorders I had studied lead to, the prisons these people's disorders had become, and my heart broke for them.  That summer, still at times, seems like a dream as those houses were such a disconnect from "the real world".  I also knew that I could not pursue my Psych degree in the manner I was planning.  God puts everything in our lives for a reason.

 

And I think about the kids I was exposed to and had relationships with in both of these settings, along with the adults, and my mind can't help but say "now those human beings had REAL problems and obstacles".  And yet we have all of these "normal" kids acting out and behaving so consistently disrespectfully because they didn't get their full ten hours of sleep the night before or were with Grandma too long over the weekend?  And I get discouraged that I could make more of a difference and connection "there" than "here".

 

And what's funny to me is that I walked into those college experiences with no degree and nothing but "book" knowledge--no hands on training--and I was treated with MORE respect than I am now.  When I bring up issues with a parent concerning their child in our preschool environment, I often times don't even get eye contact or acknowledgement--and certainly not the respect that I MAY possibly have an understanding as to what I am talking about.  I understand we're all busy and in a hurry and have a million things going on in our lives--I get it--I'm a mommy too--but if you don't have TWO SECONDS to listen to issues your child is having on a repeated basis that WILL affect his or her ability to succeed not only in kindergarten, but life in general, maybe you should be assessing to what degree you really want to be a parent.  These are people with the means and education to get the help for their children.  Why is this happening?

 

And my heart goes out to these kids.  They are the bullies now and they will be the bullies in school with the parents who will say "he never has done this before" (after hearing it for a year in preschool) to annually blaming it on their child's teacher.  And these are the kids that will continue to hurt my kids, your kids, my neighbor's kids...  It's frustrating beyond belief.  And if I could just be lazy and not care, my job would be a heck of a lot easier.  But I see my children in these little people and think to myself, if their parents won't help them--who will?  And yes, I cry for them at night and worry about them.  And then I pray and hope the best for them.  And begin my day hoping that I don't end it with more bruises...

 

And no, my own children are NOT perfect.  They drive me crazy, sometimes daily.  And they both have their own issues.  And I often feel like I'm failing miserably as a parent also.  But I will always have the time and energy to care, to listen, to want feedback and encourage advice from their teachers and caregivers that spend more time with them than I am able to.  That much I CAN do--whether I have time for it or not. 

 

And I go through the motions of "maybe I should start looking for another job" that actually pays something (it always makes me grimace when I realize that my STARTING salary for my first real job at Meredith out of college was HIGHER than my CURRENT salary after being at the Child Development Center for almost 12 years--a little discouraging--but NO ONE does this job for the money).  But those few close family and child and co-worker connections keep me hanging on.  For dear life, but hanging on none-the-less...

 

And these past weeks have been so hard.  Thinking of the child and parent interactions I've had and how they have been more negative than positive (but so thankful that the parent who raised her hand to my face and her children are gone--far less fear going into work these days)--and how that shift just seems to have happened in these past few years.  And I wax nostalgic over the golden years when these families were part of my family (there are still a few--and I thank God for them!!!  It's how I am able to stay and I appreciate all of their love and support!!!) and children were taught the basics of respect, honesty and kindness AT HOME--so we weren't starting from complete scratch.  Now we have to teach five year olds that it's not nice to throw blocks at someones head (or the windows) when you're angry--because they really don't understand why that's not okay... 

 

And I have some amazing coworkers that lift me up, and without them I'd have walked out years ago.  And I am truly blessed in that regard.  However, lately, a lot of them seem to be leaving...

 

And I'm left with, how do I make this work for me, my family, and these kids?  Because it seems rather ominous at this point.  And so many employees are discouraged by the bad news we get at work--and it would just be nice to have some positive reinforcement every once in awhile.  Parents don't like being given "bad reports" about their kids, but they don't care to make the effort to help us out in any way.  I'm not someone who can lie and say, "she had a great day" when her day was far from it.  And as a parent myself, I would WANT to know.  Apparently we are a dying breed...

 

And maybe I just need to take a step back, learn to dodge flying objects more adeptly, and just let their parents figure it out.  Except those kids ARE my job--and if we are supposed to be getting them ready for kindergarten, then I can't stop caring when their parents don't seem to be affected in the least.  I wish there was a contract we could sign with parents along the lines of "we promise to help eachother" because this whole education thing--it's a team effort.  I can't make your child behave anymore than I can make your child learn--and without your support and respect, it's all rather pointless...

 

I'm tired, feeling rotten, and should just get to bed.  Can not believe it is Monday tomorrow as this weekend was just draining.  And yes, my depression is coming through and I should be more optimistic as I am blessed to work with children, creative people, and despite all that goes on--I have to love my job somewhat to have stuck with it this long.  I know it's not the raises or free vacations ;).  Everything happens for a reason.  And when God is ready for me to "get out" and be done with this, he will open something else.

 

So, enough old nonsense for tonight and time to get my own two littles bathed, read to, prayed with, and tucked in.  Love to you all, and may you find rest tonight from all the nonsense of your day and the strength to greet the next day with high spirits!

 

Peace and love always...