My Life: Mom and Nurse

2010-10-27T08:05:00.002-05:00

The day of reckoning for dear daughter's room happened this past weekend. She went away for the weekend to spend time with Grandma (Painter). This left me free to attack her room without the bothersome "need somewhere to sleep" issue.

At the end of the weekend, I had collected 4 bags of trash, washed 5 loads of laundry (Yes, all from her room), folded sorted, organized, vacuumed and arranged her room. It looks pretty cute! I was so excited for her to come home and see it.

She walked in and said, "Oh! You DID clean my room. Grandma said you might." A while later, she exclaimed, "You put down my pink rug!!"

Mission accomplished.

Enough already...

2010-10-05T22:11:00.002-05:00

There comes a point when I just get plain ole "fed up". We have lived in this little duplex since the middle of May. I don't think I have seen the floor of the boys room since before we started moving boxes in. And tonight, I will not even talk about my daughter's room. I realize I am cramming 3 growing boys into one room but seriously, how can they stand to live in a room where you can't see the floor and have to maneuver around like some sort of ancient labyrinth full of dangers like tiny Lego pieces with their bumpy, pointy parts aimed directly at every toe or heel or the pile of blankets laying low like the foothills of some mountain range. I spent a day creating clever little labels of glittery embossing and adhering them to every box shaped container I could find. This did not inspire one lick of enthusiasm for using said containers. Instead, the boys filled their beds with blankets, stuffed animals and piles of clothing that I was pretty sure I had handed out the parental edict to "Sort the pile, put the pile away and for crying out loud, put the dirty stuff in the hamper". I tried to create a cute room that boys would love to spend time in. I painted two walls metallic silver and painted portholes on little canvases complete with sea creatures of their choice appearing in the portholes. I hung them to their individual specifications and encouraged them to think of their room like a submarine on a deep sea exploration. Still, no enthusiastic "Hey, lets keep this place tidy. Wouldn't that help us to find our favorite things? And those boxes Mom made are great...we should definitely use them!"

Three beds fit in that room when two are stacked as bunk beds. #1 son had this great loft with a huge desk and shelf under neath it. One problem, he didn't like to sleep in it. Instead, he continued to sleep on the couch.

I reached my point of "Enough already" and decided things just were not going to work without drastic intervention. I sold the loft because #1 son admitted he didn't like sleeping up that high. I bought a day bed instead. I hadn't intended to buy the daybed but the one I wanted to buy was sold out and I was going to get a bed for that child come hell or high water and it was going to happen NOW! I even found cute matching but not identical comforters for each boy on sale at Target.

In order to get that bed to fit in the room, I tore the whole room apart. Actually, I rearranged every piece of furniture, some got moved a couple of times. The pieces were in place, shelves were hung up by each boy's bed for his special treasures. Comforters placed on each bed. And at last, boy #1 has slept in his own bed for 2 out of 3 nights. Tonight, he fell asleep on the couch and I got him up and sent him to his bed.

I own the living room again. The boys absolutely love their room. It is not completely finished. There are some stacks of containers to empty into the bins I bought for the cubicle bookcase. I have two more shelves to put up but the room feels bigger and more airy. And they have room to play. I'm not quite so scared to walk in there.

The "fed up" moment is coming for darling daughter. If only my schedule would permit me the luxury of a day to overhaul it. However, October is shaping up to be a very busy month with various events and Master's coursework and papers to complete. I just try not to look in her room as I walk down the hall. If I look, I will want to run in and organize it. She needs some ownership and responsibility for her room but I think she is feeling overwhelmed and doesn't know where to start. The day is coming when we will just go in, drinks and snacks in hand and not come out until it is tidy, organized and looking like a cute girl's bedroom.

A change of thought.

2010-08-02T21:50:00.003-05:00

I started to realize over the weekend that my thoughts about my Dad have changed direction. I read the status of my cousin-in-law as she remarked on her one year anniversary. Something clicked in my brain. At the wedding of my cousin and his bride, it was the last family function that my Dad would ever attend. It would be a month before his death. From now until the anniversary date of his death, everything seems to focus around "this was the last time..."

My Mom is feeling the same way. It's a new kind of sadness. A different kind of sad. I was putting together a scrapbook page of my son (the one who is 7) on his 4th birthday. (Yes, I am THAT behind...and more because I skip around and work on what I am in the mood for.) I found a picture of him and my Dad. My heart broke again. After this, Grandpa would only celebrate two more of Peanut's birthdays. I didn't mention that in the scrapbook.

I miss him so much. This next month may be the hardest yet. I can hardly believe a year has almost passed. I still think I will see him standing on the deck or working in the garage. Sometimes, I have walked into his wood shop (now called The Studio) and smelled the sawdust and woodsy smells and it felt as if I had walked onto sacred ground.

This happens to my kids too. One day, Mom and I were sitting on the deck, enjoying a glass of water. Peanut came out and was chipper and chatty and then all of a sudden while he stood at the rail and looked out over the yard, his whole face just changed and tears welled up. He senses it too. It's hard enough for me to grieve my father. It is even harder to walk my children through it. But I do. I acknowledge what he is feeling and tell him it is alright to feel what he feels.

We are getting through it but it is hard. I know I will always miss him. But perhaps in time, it won't sting as much.

New Job

2010-07-25T00:11:00.003-05:00

I am not a person who really thrives on change and needs the "next thing" to get a thrill. I like things to stay the same. I don't think that is all that strange. I bet there are many who are the same way. This past year has been quite full of many changes and transitions and it has been difficult. It seemed like was just one thing after another.

I changed jobs twice. Ugh. However, I do think God has a way of working things out for the best and there is always a reason for things. I think my time working at the long term care facility taught me a lot about what my leadership style is and also showed me that I have more to learn before I am really ready for the level of responsibility required for a job of that caliber. I do not rule it out as a possibility and some sort of management/supervisory position is something I am interested when the time is right.

My new job is expanding my nursing skills. Since I started at the end of June, I have learned how to draw blood, take care of wounds, insert a catheter as well as getting very good at manual blood pressures and apical pulses. According to both my preceptor and my supervisor, I am catching on to things very quickly and am not requiring a lot of hand holding. Those are nice compliments to hear after the harsher critiques of "not meeting expectations" or "not being up to speed" and feeling overwhelmed.

Better still, I like this new job a lot. There is much to learn, much to hone but I love working on an individual level with patients again. I like being able to set my own schedule. I really like the fact that when I am done with my visits for the day, I can go home and finish. I have loved having days when I am home at 3 or 4pm. Or the days when I have been able to start at 9am. There is stress. And I am not up to speed on everything. The computer program I am learning to use is HUGE but all the people involved with running the organization smoothly are very nice about showing me how to correct things or pointing out what I missed. For example, I put together a care plan that included home health aid visits for 1 day a week, 2 days a week AND 3 days a week. Perhaps a bit of over-kill? The response was "Everyone who has started has made the same mistake. Here is how to fix it."

I love that!

So, while I struggle with living on a smaller income for the time being, I find that I am happier and more relaxed and I feel like I am in the midst of doing good work. I meet interesting people and travel to parts of the city I have never seen. I am thanking God for his wisdom and His leading. I think that one job lead to the next. A door opens and a window opens.

Lessons learned from my cats

2010-07-11T22:24:00.003-05:00

I have two sweet cats: Tiger and Clifford the Girl. They have a life that is envious at times. Maybe there is something I can learn from them.

1. If you meow, someone will feed you. Especially when you wind yourself around their legs and lead them to the kitchen.

2. It is important to take the time to sit in the window, watch the birds and the cars and enjoy the sunshine.

3. Always take time to keep yourself clean. Even if that means stopping in the middle of the hallway to lick your leg. You never get a second chance to make a first impression.

4. Tell the people in your life how you feel about them. Affection can be expressed by curling up on their lap, winding yourself around their leg or sticking your face in their face and nibbling on their ear or licking their eye.

5. Rest is important. Take the time to nap every day, especially if there is a warm spot of sunshine and a gentle breeze.

6. Alert your people to your presence and let them know they forgot you by sticking your paw under the bathroom door or pawing at the door to remind them you are there.

7. If your people forget to clean out your litter box, leave them little reminders so they are aware of the error.

A day in the life of a woman

2010-07-04T14:36:00.003-05:00

I suffer from my own form of ADHD--Attention Deficit Housework Disorder. I start in one room, with the plan to complete a task and an hour later, I realize I am in a completely different room doing a completely different task. Take today, for example, I had someone coming by to take away some of my cardboard boxes. So, I decided I would start cleaning my kitchen and doing dishes. From there, I saw a couple of dish towels that needed laundering. I gathered them up and remembered that the boys have an overflowing basket of laundry, so I went and got that, picking up assorted laundry along the way. I then headed down the stairs to start a couple loads of laundry. While there, I had a load of towels in the dryer that needed folding. I folded those and headed up to put them away. As I passed through the kitchen, I saw my sink of soapy water and the stack of cups on the counter and remembered that I was washing dishes.

It really takes a very concerted effort for me to stay on one task and not flit about from one thing to the other like a humming bird going from flower to flower, never staying long in one place. To my credit, however, I have gotten a lot of things accomplished. The dishes are washed, dried and put away. I sorted items on my counter that belong to my landlord and are needed to complete the kitchen cupboard project. I found my knives and kitchen canisters for flour, sugar, etc and put those away. I swept the dining room. I have two loads of wash going and two loads in the dryers. I have changed my linen on my bed and I am about to begin organizing the stack of papers I have been collecting every day at work. And I still need to plan out the week of chores for the kids. The bathroom floor needs washing...I have a mirror I want to hang...

Times, they are a changin'

2010-06-28T21:37:00.002-05:00

Week 1 of my new job is done. Today, I started week 2. I really think I am going to like this job a lot. I am a Registered Nurse Case Manager for a home care company. I will learn how to draw blood, wound care as well as lots of paperwork. But there is a great deal of flexibility, setting my own schedule and opportunity to make bonuses for extra visits as well as mileage for my driving.

Sometimes, things happen in my life that I cannot explain why. And sometimes, God gives me a peek at why events unfolded like they did. A year ago, I was comfortable in my old job with the county. But I was also kind of bored. I had reached the point where I feel like I had mastered the tasks but there was no where to go, no opportunity to move ahead. But it was still security.

Then my basket was upset by being forced to find something different. The opportunity to move into long-term care provided me a great deal of new challenges. I really learned a lot about an area of nursing I had not known about. The challenge was perhaps greater than my abilities. I think I could have grown into the role but it did not work out that way. However, in my new position, the new things I learned in long term care and geriatric care are coming into play with the skill set I have. I have new things to learn but there are things I can look at now and see that if I had not worked in long-term care, I would not be familiar with what I will be learning now but in greater depth. I can see that I have an opportunity to become a stronger and more skilled nurse. I still live on faith and prayer. I took a drastic pay cut but in the end, I think I will be happier. Already the skills and knowledge I have are being appreciated and remarked on. I have much to learn but I am excited to try new things!

Well That's a Fine Howdy-do

2010-06-14T18:05:00.002-05:00

I walked in to work today and discovered that my desk had been completely rearranged and cleaned off. I did not like that at all. Sadly, when I looked at what she had done, I did have to admit, I liked her arrangement better. However, I still felt as if I had been invaded. My desk is not always neat and tidy which is something that the Queen Bee likes. She doesn't like anything laying out. But that is her issue. My desk is my space given to me for me to do my work. It's one thing when there is a shared space such as a nursing station but in my office, at my desk, I should have the freedom to spread things out as I see fit. I have my own way of making sure I get things done. If I clear everything off my desk every day, I often forget if I had finished something. So, I leave myself a neat little stack of To Do items, usually with little notes written on a post-it, so I know where I left off.

Now she did leave me a little note on my computer explaining what she did and why. But still. And then when she came in, she sweetly talked about it and tried to make it like it was no big deal. I am kicking myself because I did not speak up and say, "You know, that really annoyed me. And while I understand that you were trying to help me out, rearranging my desk goes a little too far." Instead, I just tucked my feelings away and tried to ignore how annoyed I was.

She proceeded to tell me that she gave me a glowing evaluation after my interview on Thursday and that the company had called right after my interview. They also called today to talk about my interview but I missed the call. I wonder if that is a good sign? I will have to wait til tomorrow to find out for sure. If it is a job offer, I already know that I want the job. It sounds a lot like what I did before but with some new things in like learning how to draw blood and do more wound care.

It just gets weirder

2010-06-13T21:36:00.002-05:00

I feel like a pawn. And unfortunately, the pawn is always expendable.

Apparently, if I am reading the situation correctly, the Big Boss did not know that the DON (or as a friend calls her "the Queen Bee") had given me 30 day Walking Papers. When I announced my last day, he said, "Wow. Really? We need to talk about that." It took me two days to catch a moment to talk to him and when I did, I was surprised. He said that it was his understanding that I was being given a 30 day correction plan. I laid out what happened when she terminated me. It happened to be at the same time that he left the building for a week and 1/2 for the funeral and recuperation after his mother-in-law died. He told me, "Why do you say June 18th? Do you have a job lined up?" No, I do not. "We need you here." Basically, the agreement as it stands now is that I can stay at my current position while I continue to look for another job. I added that I would like the flexibility to go to interviews as they come up. Agreed.

And he said he will talk to Queen Bee about the situation. Hmmm. That could make Monday very interesting. I have not seen QB since I left for a interview on Thursday and at that time, she had not met with Big Boss yet so she was unaware of our new agreement.

I have been asked by many people if I will stay on if they were to rescind the termination. I do not think that is going to be in my best interest. There is no security. I know that QB does not want me there and I have seen her "in action" a bit to know that she could make my life very miserable if she does not get what she wants. So right now I am going to do what is good for me. It is better for me financially, obviously, because it means I will not go on unemployment or lose my insurance. However, I need security. I need to be in a job where I am trusted and my work is valued. And I need to work in a place that is upfront and values honesty. I shouldn't have to go digging for it or begging for answers.

My life is so weird, I can't make this stuff up...

2010-06-05T17:29:00.003-05:00

I have had a "perfect storm" of events in the last few weeks. Actually, it all kind of happened in one week, but the repercussions are still be felt now. In the middle of May, I turned 39. No big deal. It's a birthday. It was a busy week because we were getting ready to move from the townhouse in Hugo to a new home in Lexington. My birthday was weird. I had to work. I'm used to that. I have always either worked or had finals or other things occur on my birthday. No parades or national holidays...just life. But I did get sung to on my voicemail by my sister and my kids told me Happy Birthday all day long. I got sung to at work and they bought me lunch but no one ate with me. That should have been a clue.

The next day, at the end of the day, the Director of Nursing sat me down in my office and told me that she was giving me 30 days to find a new job and did I have any questions. What do you say to that? Clearly, she is not happy with my work but not so unhappy or concerned with what I do that she didn't need or couldn't justify an escort out the door that day. But she did let me leave early. This was Thursday afternoon and I had Friday off in order to finish getting ready to move on Saturday.

So, in the midst of trying to get things in order to pack, finish painting and all those little details that need attention, my mind is racing in a hundred different directions because now I need a new job and I have to face going back to work on Monday knowing that I am no longer wanted or needed in that position.

I have wise people in my life who gave me a lot of tidbits and things to ponder. If I was in any way endangering the safety of the nursing home, I would not have gotten 30 days. If the quality of my work was an issue, I would not have gotten 30 days. Instead, I was not the person the new DON wanted to work with and truth be told, I have been struggling to keep up with all the various tasks that get thrown at me during the day so perhaps this job is too big for me to handle at this point. And this is really an opportunity to take what I have learned and move on to something else. It in no way means I am a bad nurse or a bad manager or ineffective leader. "Not a good fit" is very appropriate. I didn't fit Camden and Camden didn't fit me.

But it has been weird going to work every day feeling like "dead man walking" or the "lame duck ADON". Except that very few people know that I am the lame duck ADON. I have decided that I will continue to hold my head high and walk in to work every day, work hard, do my very best work and smile. I will be gracious and kind and not be bitter. There are a lot of nasty things I could do but that is really beneath me as the kind of person I want to be. As some people have told me, go in to work and do your job in such a way that they regret their decision.

And that is what I do. Amazingly, it gets easier every day. The every-day issues don't bother me. Sometimes I still feel the sting of being rejected or being lashed out against but I take myself into my office and remind myself that I don't have to take it personally. My countdown clock has started. And there is a job out there that has my name written all over it; it will use my gifts and abilities and also provide challenge and growth.

To compound the supposed simplicity of my life, (Ha ha ha. )I learned from a private assessment that my youngest son will more than likely be repeating first grade and that at some point during the year (earlier rather than later, in my opinion), he shut down and lost his confidence. The assessment placed him at a Kindergarten level. To me, it feels as if 1st grade was a complete wash and that despite my repeated requests for help for him, he was just pushed along with very little indication of how serious the problem was. It wasn't until I completed a parent survey for grade retention that I learned of his teacher's opinion that he should have been held back in Kindergarten. If this was his opinion, why didn't this get dealt with in September or October. I am angry and sad for my son and his frustrations. Looking back, it is so clear how much he was struggling. He has told me about his good-bad days and then one day how excited he was last week when he got the right answer for a math problem and his teacher told him he gets a pat on the back. I realized that he has had very little "successes" through the year but has felt a lot of criticism. It makes me want to cry.

So, my family has taken Peanut on as a "village" project. My sister, the english teacher, will be tutoring him through the summer. My Mom is going to do some extra 1:1 enrichment tutoring and the irony for me, I am going to help him with math. Me, the reformed hater of math...the one who struggled to multiply and hated Algebra and Geometry...I am going to work on math skills. The primary goal for Peanut is to overcome this hump of low self confidence and even if he repeats the first grade, he will be more prepared and feel good about himself.

Oh, there's more but I'm tired.

Back in the saddle...

2010-05-08T11:30:00.002-05:00

Ok, I confess, I signed up on eHarmony. I don't think I want to explain the many complex and varied reasons why. I just did. It was a bit of a whim. Actually, there was another site I had been on before and became involved in a 2 year relationship. That ended badly. I first checked back there for a 7 day "Free Preview because we want you back". Out of that little experience, I got an email from a GI in Iraq, supposedly but then the more he started writing, the more it seemed like something was off and I wondered if this was a real person. I was also IM'd by someone who really did not want to get to know me but was interested in what can be described as nothing else but "cyber sex". That was scary. No thanks.

I had been slowly transitioning out of an old email but did not know how to close it down and part of me did not really want to close it because "what if..." but after these two experiences, I figured it out quickly and do not regret it. Everyone who does know me has my real email or has been notified of the change.

So, then eHarmony had many aspects of safety. It is not foolproof but there are many barriers to outright communication with someone before they can get any identifying information or contact information. So, tonight, I have a date with a match. So far, he seems pretty normal. We have seen each other's pictures and talked on the phone a lot.

I'm excited. But I am very nervous. It has been a long time since anyone has asked me out and I don't know if I can even think of someone planning out the whole evening. That part seems very sweet. I have my safety plan in place. One of my friends has my itinerary and knows where I am going to be throughout the evening and she has asked me to send her a text when I get home. Several other people know I am going out. I will have my cell phone and if I need help, for some reason, I know who I can count on. It's doubtful I will need to institute any sort of back-up plan but these days, it is good to have one.

More thoughts on grief

2010-05-03T14:17:00.002-05:00

Maybe you are tired of reading about this experience. I don't know. But it is where I am at and it is what I think about. I just hope that something I says resonates with your experience and brings comfort and peace or prepares your for a time when you will go through a time of grieving.

I have determined that grief is a solitary experience. There is no person on this earth who is going to experience it in exactly the same way. The Lord is the only one who knows exactly what I am going through. I think this may be why so many people, including myself, find comfort in the 23rd Psalm:

"The LORD is my sheperd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters.
He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You annointed my head with oil; My cup overflows.
Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life, And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. " Psalm 23: 1-6

Right now, my mother and my two sisters are all grieving the loss of the same person. But in many ways, we grieve alone and cannot share with each other what we are going through. I had a conversation with my Mom yesterday in which she told me what she is going through. It was raw and meaningful. And it hurt. But it was what I needed to hear from her. I needed to know what she is going through, what her experience is. I needed to know that she does not have the capacity to go through my grief with me. She even conveyed that she does not know what it must be like to lose a father. It is far to complicated to explain on this blog, but while she did lose her father about 15 years ago, her grieving was short and was more of a relief after a lifelong turmultous and strained relationship with him.

What she has lost is her best friend; the lover of her youth, her companion through so much of her adult life. I can't fathom that pain. What I have lost is my father. Same person, different relationship. Different grief.

She said, and admitted quickly that it came out wrong, that none of us girls knows what it is like to lose a husband. As soon as she said it, she knew she struck a nerve. Again, it's not the same. I did lose a husband and a best friend. He is not dead and he still sort of haunts me. It is the time of year where I get the annual letter from him. I dread it every year and am always relieved when it finally comes and I can finally get it over with. He comes to me in my dreams and I wake up wanting to scream. I hate it. In many ways, death would be easier to deal with because there is an end. I still face the consequences. I still face the fact that someday, he is going to get out of prison and he is going to try to enter our lives again, my children are going to hurt and I will be picking up the peices again. And that is something that NO ONE can possibly understand but me and the Lord.

The solution instead, I think, is to acknowledge the pain and the hurt of others and listen when they need to talk, to be present in their lives and just "be" with them. And sometimes, when the pain is too much to bear alone, the sadness comes in a huge tidal wave and no one knows it but you, reach out and tell your family that you are having a hard time. I can't expect anyone to know through ESP that I am having a tough time. If I can't handle it alone, it is my responsibility to speak up and ask for comfort. Or maybe all I need to do is take a moment to roll with the pain, ride the wave and cry it out.

This weekend, I was cleaning out my garage and organizing it so that I can start packing boxes and moving them in to the garage. When I moved in to this home, my kitchen was seriously lacking cupboard space. My mom offered this piece of furniture we call the Pie Cupboard until a time when I could get more shelves or something. This cupboard is the first piece of furniture my Dad made. When I lived with my parents, my Dad put a lock on it so that we could keep some things out of the reach of little fingers. I decided to take the lock off. One of my children actually broke part of the lock a year ago. I asked my Mom if she wanted this back and she said no. I was pleased because it reminds me of my Dad. I sat down and undid the screws for the lock and then I began to touch the wood and started to remember the time when my Dad built this and all the things we had stored in it over the years. I studied it inside and out. I don't know how to describe it but I just felt both sad because I miss him so much but at the same time, the memories were pleasant and happy. I cried for quite a while. It was what I needed.

2010-04-10T16:43:00.002-05:00

I'm so overwhelmed that I am almost paralyzed. Every where I go, there is junk to step on, move around, things to wash, put away, sort through or get rid of. I just can't get a handle on all of it.

At work, I am learning how to delegate tasks to the nurses I supervise. Part of delegation is also learning how to let go. I need to delegate at home and that is something I am having much more difficulty with because my children are definitely not at a level that I would like. But then how else are they to grow if I don't start enforcing my expectations?

We have the opportunity to start fresh because we are moving. Over the course of the next several weeks until moving day in May, I am going to start packing things away in boxes and putting them in the garage. While I do that, I can sort out what we don't need and what can go on the garage sale my Mom and I are going to do in June. She has graciously offered to let me start bringing things over to her garage now so that I don't have to move things twice.

I think one of the problems is that there has been a severe break down in my organizational system. And I have been running like mad since my new job started. My evenings feel very short and I am generally very tired when I get home. I'm out of balance.

I am taking the summer term off of grad school. So for 4 months, I will be able to concentrate on work and kids. The kids will be off for the summer and it will be a good time to start some new habits. If I apply what I am learning at work to what needs to happen at home, I need to establish the expectations and then take the time to practice those new expectations until they begin to feel natural and a part of what we do. I hope 4 months is enough time to do that before school starts back up for everyone.

The Aha! Moment

2010-03-23T06:15:00.002-06:00

I'm depressed. That is my big revelation.

I was laying in bed this morning, knowing full well that as a fully matured, gainfully employed adult, I needed to get up and get going, I just kept pulling the covers over my head and hitting the snooze. Even with the kitten, Clifford the Girl, who is now Princess Nuisance, crawling all over me, demanding to be snuggled or she would attack my toes, bite my hair, push her head under my hand and into my face in a variety of attacks, or rapid succession, I still could not get myself up.

I went to bed at a decent hour. I set my alarm for 6am. Not terribly early for me anymore. I was within my usual optimum of 7 hours. So why can't I crawl out of bed and get moving?

Depression.

Yuck. Labeling it however, does ease my mind. I have been down this path before. I even know in my head that it is a normal reaction, all things considered. I am grieving my father. I am working in a new job that often leaves me feeling "over my head". I have 4 children, two of whom are struggling with school. All of them are struggling in their own way with their own sadness and loss. Peanut told Grandma that he can talk to Grandpa but Grandpa can only see him when he is outside. But God can see him when he is inside. It is cute. And it is a clue that he is struggling to make sense of why his beloved Grandpa is no longer here. I'm also taking graduate level classes. I feel over-run with clutter and daily housekeeping. Even the small tasks seem like an overwhelming burden.

This is not typical for me. But in light of a depression. It makes sense. The first step for me is to understand that this is what is going on. Doing so, I am able to give myself more grace. I don't let myself off the hook for things that need to get done. But I can recognize that the road out of depression is slow at times. The feeling of being overwhelmed and unable to do anything, is part of it.

With my past history of depression, post-partum depression with my first child, I have learned a thing or two. Take my medication daily. Don't give in to the "cover my head and tune out the world". Do something. Anything. Steady plodding. And face the feelings.

Depression is commonly misunderstood as being sadness. That is part of it. But the true root of depression is actually anger. I tell this to myself more than anything because I know that for me, part of my ability to recover and heal is to get to the root. I tend to stuff my difficult emotions. I don't have time to deal with them. It hurts too much to pay attention to them. It causes others distress if I show them. All of this boils into a pot of feeling misunderstood, uncared for by those closest to me, feeling taken for granted, with a dash (or a heap) of sadness, some "righteous" indignation and some whining ("It's not fair."). Quite a stew.

I think part of my identification that this is indeed depression is also an indicator that I am finally ready to face some of those difficult emotions swirling around in my head. The grief I have a handle on. The anger, not so much. The anger scares me. It always has. That's why I stuff it.

With that thought, I need to take a shower and get going to work, so I can stay gainfully employed.

The week past

2010-03-19T16:34:00.002-06:00

It was a tough one in many respects. Last week marked the 6 month anniversary of my father's death. At first, I did not think it was affecting me very much. However, my reaction was delayed and I found myself on an emotional roller coaster this week. I was driving in to work and saw a red Ford pick-up. All of a sudden, the tears just started falling and the words I had been holding back came out.

I miss him so much. I was not ready to let him go. I was not ready to say good-bye. I hurt. I feel empty inside. I hate the pain. I hate seeing my Mom hurting and my sisters and my kids. I miss calling him. I miss seeing him standing on the deck at the house. I miss seeing him in the garage waving at me as I drive up or drive away. I miss seeing him in his favorite chair. Every where I turn, I am reminded of him and then reminded that he is not here.

By the time I got to work, my eyes were red and puffy. I had to talk myself through it and get myself under control. My soon-to-be boss started talking to me and then she stopped and said, "You look like you have been crying." And I told her I was having a tough day with thoughts of my Dad. I told her to continue with what she was telling me and she said, "I feel like I want to fix it for you." I told her that I was trying to get a handle on myself so distraction would be a good plan.

Two more residents are moving towards dying. The other ADON's mother is going back to her home to die. I have to face it. I have to let myself feel my feelings and allow myself to cry if that is what I need to do. It is OK.

Life as a new ADON

2010-03-15T19:31:00.003-06:00

For those who don't know, ADON stands for Assistant Director of Nursing. That's my new title. It's a big one. And the job is big too. I learn every day just how big it is. The best way to describe how I feel is "I now know what I don't know." Every day I encounter something new. However, I like it. I do worry that I am not cutting it. Working in long term care requires being able to think and work fast. Before I took this job, I thought I was a quick learner. Right now, I feel like I am crawling along like a snail while everyone else is flying past like a cheetah. It is my perception, I am sure. And a great deal of insecurity.

After one particularly difficult day in which I had been asked to do several things I did not know how to do, and I did not do them well, I commented to the woman who is taking the place of the retiring Director of Nursing, "It hurts to grow. And I am being stretched in every direction."

I think about that a lot. I think it is probably the most accurate assessment I could make about myself and my current position. I took a job that was bigger than I had ever taken on before but even though it is big and has a lot of responsibility, I can grow into the role. I battle myself with perfectionism and wanting to do everything perfectly, the first time and when I make mistakes, I feel like I can't do it at all. It does help to remember that I am growing. I am stretching and it can be painful and it doesn't happen all at once.

I am far too hard on myself.

On a lighter note, I need to find a stapler, a bunch of rubber bands, a stash of paper clips and a highlighter. There is a stash of office supplies somewhere in the building. I have yet to find it. I have already discovered that if I give out a pen, I will not get it back. So, when I came upon a deal at Target for 144 black stick pens for $5, I bought them and I keep them in my desk. These are the ones I hand out to nursing assistants who ask for one. The ones I like to use, I keep in a different spot.

It's like a crazy game of Hide-n-Seek for grown-ups.

How we're doing...

2010-03-12T13:54:00.002-06:00

How do I answer this question?

It depends on the day. It depends on my mood. It depends on who is asking.

This week marks 6 months since my Dad died. I have felt quite sad. I haven't cried, even though I feel like I should. I just can't seem to make the tears come. I think about him a lot. I miss him every day. Probably a day does not go by when I don't wish I could just call him on the phone and tell him something little or silly or just talk something through.

My kids are doing OK. And by OK, I mean OK. They have good days and bad days. Two of my boys are struggling in school and I think grief has a lot to do with it. BB is pulling D's and F's but his test scores are far above the district and school level. He is so smart but he just has not been turning in homework. But the jig is up and he has a teacher at school checking every day. He has me checking every day. The computer has become one of my greatest assets because he likes to spend time on it but he cannot when he has not done his homework. And if he forgets it at school, no computer either. I also talked to the school he is going to next year to see what kinds of things we can put in place for him so that this does not happen again.

Peanut is not reading real well or doing well in math. At his conference, I was told that he may need to be held back and repeat first grade. In some ways, this could be the best thing for him because he is a little immature and it might be just what he needs to get a handle on reading and math. We have 3 months to try to get his skill level up. I also called the school he will be going to next year to see if there is summer school available for him when we move. And there is. So, things are in motion for him.

On the other hand, my other two are doing well in school. Princess was on the A honor roll last semester. And now that she has done that once, she wants to do it again. But she is struggling with French. She continues to work hard. Pumpkin Head is doing great. His teacher thinks he is a sweetie and that he is really smart. He even bought himself a book with his allowance. I love that he is starting to read on his own. We will have to utilize the library a lot this summer and keep these kids in books!

My new job is going well. I feel a little nervous and overwhelmed because there is so much to learn and I have to learn it so fast. I love the residents. I am challenged every day. Sometimes I am frustrated, but more with myself because I am not up to speed. Last week was a hard week because 4 residents passed away over the course of the week. 3 of them were expected and one was a surprise. And we have entered our "window" for our Department of Health survey.

My new course for grad school is harder than my previous courses and is requiring more reading and processing than the others. My stress level is rising. I feel like I am falling behind in everything. However, I decided to combat my overwhelmed feelings by making a plan and a schedule for all the things I need to do including the laundry, the cleaning, the homework and so forth. This way I don't have to beat myself up for not getting everything done in one day.

One day at a time. One day at a time. One day at a time.

Thoughts on being lost...

2010-02-07T07:09:00.002-06:00

This weekend I managed, in the span of 15 minutes, to lose two of my sons. When I look back, it could be viewed as being incredibly funny but I'm not quite ready to laugh yet. The situations occurred due to a lack of communication as well as a the seemingly natural inclination of boys to wander. When we go shopping at Target, I have allowed my children to pair off and go hang out in their two favorite areas of the store: Toys and Electronics. And they travel between the two. It has allowed me the freedom to get my other shopping done with some peace as well as efficiency that does not come with 4 children hanging about.

As I finished, I headed toward the Toy department and encountered the first pair and then we headed over to Electronics to gather the other two. In no time at all, I turned around and Peanut was gone. We searched the immediate area and there was no sign of him. I had the other 3 with me, and I planted them by a railing with STRONG instructions to stand by the cart IN THIS SPOT and I would go search for Peanut. I can move faster when not pushing a heavily laden shopping cart and 3 kids in tow. I searched the usual areas and still did not find him. So, I gathered the other 3 again and we set off to search the other half of the store. While we were talking, BB was chatting about how we should have a meeting spot to go to so that if we ever get separated again, we would know to go there and we would be found again. I told him this was a good idea but right now, we were searching for Peanut. All of a sudden it got quiet and I turned around and BB was gone.

This made me angry because I am confident that he took off, chasing some sort of wild hare. Even though we were just talking about this while searching for his little brother! He's been in a strange mood lately and I think that he may have thought on a subconscious level, that if he got lost too, he would get all of us looking for him and then the celebration when he was found would be sweet.

No time to dwell on that thought much because I figured Peanut was panicking somewhere or the worst thought a parent can have...someone snatched him. I hate that thought. I hate that we live in a world where those thoughts even have to cross a parent's mind. I grabbed a manager and told him I was looking for my 7 year old. He grabbed another employee. I turned around and saw Peanut running up the aisle near where we had been earlier. I sent Princess after him. He was crying. I was relieved.

And now I had another son to go find. But I was so embarrassed, I did not want to tell this manager that I had another child missing too. What kind of an idiot can't keep track of her children? And there are so many reasons that are none of the Target employees business as to why a second child would wander off. So, I paid for my purchases, parking my children in the main aisle telling them to watch for BB. Then I parked all of them in the little cafe with stern and I mean STERN instructions to stay put while I went to look for BB. I started walking the path we had been on before figuring he may have ducked down a side aisle to escape me.

I made it all the way over to Toys and an employee approached me and asked if I needed help finding anything. I said that I was looking for my son. She stayed on me even though I was trying to brush her off. I was so exhausted by this time as well as frustrated, angry and scared that finally I said, "I need help. I can't find him. And I'm so tired. I don't know what to do anymore."

She called a Code Yellow which got all of the available employees out looking for him. I was still embarrassed by all the attention. But when they found him and announced across the radio that he was at the service desk, I was relieved. But there was a growing anger inside me because I just felt it in my heart that BB did this on purpose. And how was I going to handle this?

The consequence, I decided, was that for out next trip to any store, no one would go anywhere without me. It's more of a punishment for myself than anything. It is also taking back a freedom that perhaps they cannot handle yet. I need to evaluate my communication with them on what my expectations are as well. I just can't do that in the heat of the moment nor on the brink of exhaustion.

The other issue that this story shows is just one other example of what my 11 year old is going through. He is in a full-blown depression. His behavior is erratic, irrational, irritating and prickly. I am having conversations with him about his prickly behaviors, trying to help him give a name to what he is feeling as well as describe what it looks like to the rest of us. This is the best description I have come up and it is working so far. I told him that he is acting like a porcupine that has raised up all it's needles. The reason a porcupine does this is for protection. It does not want bigger animals to come near and eat it or attack it softer parts. It's a defense mechanism. So, like the porcupine, BB is sticking out his prickly needles pushing people away with his behavior because he doesn't want to get hurt. But at the same time, he is pushing away the very people who love and care for him the most, and the ones who can help him.

I think this is a childhood manifestation of a clinical depression. I have talked with his pediatrician about it earlier this fall. Children, thankfully, do not get treated with medications for depression. Their brains are still developing. So, the best course is therapy. My issue now is that with my job change, my new health insurance is not completely set up yet. I have to talk to my boss about it on Monday and find out where that is at. The other problem is that the therapist we were using, while BB seemed to like him he was not connecting with him and wouldn't talk to him. And now his depressive symptoms are spilling over into school because I learned that he has been hiding his homework in his locker, he is disengaged in his classroom and it goes on and on.

I'm torn apart. I don't know what to do. I'm praying for him. I need to start praying with him and talking with him every day. On Monday, I will be calling the school psychologist and I am going to ask for a meeting with her, his teacher and other specialists that work with him to come up with some sort of a game plan to give him the support he needs to get through this. I don't think he can get through it on his own. He is crying out for help. I think he wants to know that people care, even though he is doing his very best to push people away. In a sense, he is lost.

Not a Wit to be had

2010-01-27T23:20:00.002-06:00

If I had any wits left, I'd be at the end of them. I'm just so doggone tired. My brain is full every day. I know that this is a temporary state of being and completely normal but it is hard to live like this for long.

I started my new job two weeks ago. I think it is going well. I am on complete information overload. I am trying to learn as much as I can about Long term care and my new responsibilities. For those who may read this and do not read any other stuff or talk to me in other capacities, let me fill you in.

In November, I learned that my nice job at the county was going to end due to budget cuts. My last day was January 8, 2010. There are frustrating things that one encounters when working for a large state operated system and union rules. Bureaucratic red-tape is the best description. Communication with me, the lowly staff person, does not seem to terribly high on the priority list. I found out on December 24 via an email that I did not actually read until the next week when I came back to work after the Christmas holiday that I had a temporary reassignment onto a unit that was going to be shut down and transferred to another facility, in another town. And because of that, I would also be included in their lay-off group and would be getting an official lay-off notice with my options. My options included a)take the lay-off b) "Bump" a less senior RN out of their position of which I could choose from one of the following 4 options...1 was a rotating day and evening position, 3 were straight nights. or c) take an open position but less than full time.

The way I had always understood things was that if you had a significant amount of seniority, the options should not be so lousy. I had 30 people under me in seniority and this was my option. Something about this really bugged me but I couldn't put my finger on it until the week I started back at the Treatment center in orientation and talked with some of the staff who were working on the unit that was being shut down. A very brand-new RN had bid off to another unit and for some reason, was considered "safe" from the lay-off or from being "bumped". Why would this RN who had worked for a few months be assured of a job when I, who had worked for the state for over 6 years, 3 1/2 of which were as an RN get stuck working nights? It didn't make sense and I was getting mad.

An opportunity sort fell into my lap. There is no other way to describe it. My friend from college works at a nursing home in Minneapolis. She is one of the directors and told me that they were looking for a couple of nurse managers and would I consider it? Initially, I said I would wait a while and see how things played out with the state but then when I started learning about all this other junk going on, and she posted a little plug on Facebook about the job (not just to me but to others who might know good nurses) I wrote to her and said, "Consider me interested." As she and I wrote back and forth, the administrator chimes in on the discussion and says, "Tulip, you call me tomorrow."

In actuality, my first week of training at the treatment center, I knew I had this job interview so I tried to be positive and keep an open mind, knowing that I was exploring other options and was not stuck. The interview went well and I was essentially offered the job if all went well in a meeting with the Assistant Director of Nursing the next week. The following week was a holiday, so my kids and I were going to the Mall of America for the day and the Administrator asked me to call during the day and schedule an appointment with the ADON. Instead, I came in on my way home from the MOA, with my 4 bedraggled, sweaty children and had an interview with the ADON and met again with the Administrator. I walked out with the job.

And I learned that I would be another Assistant Director of Nursing, sharing duties (to be determined later) with the other ADON. That began my whirlwind of excitement, exhaustion and losing all my wits. But the more I dig in, the more I like what I am doing and the more I feel like this is what I am supposed to be doing. I'm far from relaxed but I can see where I am headed.

The stress is taking its toll however. I feel like I am running and never catch up. However, the beauty in that is that I am realizing my children are far more capable then I have given them credit and it is not wrong of me to expect them to pick up some of the slack. However, it is wrong of me to expect them to do things to the same skill that I would or with the same efficiency and dedication. We are all growing in that area.

The use of the computer is helping all of us in that area. I can type out my To Do lists and even write out what I want them to do exactly. They can have time to use the computer if they do what they have been asked to do. And there are things that we have to keep up with every day or it piles up and gets overwhelming. This pertains mostly to the kitchen because our kitchen is small and the dishwasher does not work.

BB is reacting to these changes in a way that is frustrating. He has been so angry and irritable. I sat down with him and described what I was seeing as him putting out spikes like a cactus or a porcupine. And when someone is acting prickly it is because there is something they want to protect from being hurt. We talked about the changes in our family over the last few months and how it is understandable that he would want to protect himself from being hurt by sticking out his prickly parts. But his prickly-ness is hurting his family and we are getting tired of being yelled at, answered with sarcastic, rude comments. The only thing that he actually said that was bothering him was that I now have homework from my own school and he feels like that is taking time away from him.

As I think about it, that does make sense. He wants my attention and he is doing all sorts of things to send me a message that he is unhappy. He is also doing things to interfere or disrupt with our family life. He does not like my going to school. I agreed that going to school is hard and has changed things a bit but it is getting easier. I also told him that I was going to take the summer semester off because we all need a break and need to have some time to spend together.

After that, he started to smile again and he started to relax. I think I hit the nail on the head. I did also tell him that things will not always feel this crazy. It's just a lot of things happening in a very short amount of time. It will get better.

Embracing change

2010-01-20T04:58:00.002-06:00

So many things are changing right now. It does seem to make my head spin and I wonder how it is that I am not huddled in a corner, knees to chest, rocking and sucking my thumb.

Because I am a grown-up, that's why. And, because I have realized that the only thing I can truly count on staying the same is that everything is going to change eventually. I may not like it. It may hurt or feel uncomfortable and it usually means I am will be tossed out of my comfortable bubble. Tough. That's life.

I am reading a chapter in my course book for my Master's degree and this week's topic is on change. One of the statements that hit me, like a stake to my heart, is that "the tension between stability and chaos creates change" (Grossman & Valiga, 2009, p. 116) and "a system maintains itself only if change is occurring in it all the time." (Grossman & Valiga, 2009, p 117). I realized as I read this that it is this very process of chaotic craziness that is changing me and helping me grow! So embrace it, baby!

I thought it would be "fun" to write out the changes that are occurring in my life at the moment. If nothing else it will show me that I am living my life out on that edge of chaos and there is a purpose for it. I may not know all of the purpose for it but for me, I am a simple enough person to be content to know that sooner or later, I will know the reason.

1. Grieving the death of my Dad. This is still huge. A friend of mine mentioned that grieving takes 1000 days. I like that because it takes the pressure off of me when I think ,"Come on, get over it. Let it go." Yet at the same time, the process of letting it go takes time and cannot be rushed.
2. One job ending. It was not something I wanted to happen. I was content. But at the same time, if I am truly honest with myself, I knew that it was never going to be "the last stop" in my career. At some point, I was going to grow beyond that job. What I had to let go of was the loss of it being on my terms and by my choice.
3. A new job beginning. This is exciting. New challenges, new responsibilities. But stress, anxiety and fear. I'm just laying it out there.
4. Going back to school again. Granted, I do all my schooling from home, filling it in around the rest of my life. There is no other way I could do it! But it does add stress and a burden. At the same time, I feel like my mind is just a sponge. I had been sitting on the fence for so long about whether I should start or not and could I hack it. Now I am reading books like the one I mentioned above and seeing how my learning process is spilling over into every area of my life. I am ready for this.
5. A teenage daughter. So far, so good. I'm seeing more emotional lability and some challenges to my authority. But she is a good girl and I think we have a good relationship. So we talk about the changes going on with her. I'm working through some grief knowing that my time with her at home is getting shorter and she is going to start pulling away. It has begun already with long weekend trips with the youth group and summer camp. So, I say to myself alot, "Give her roots and wings."
6. Another adolescent on the verge. An 11 year old boy who makes me laugh, cry and scratch my head or want to ram my head into a wall in frustration. And that is just in 30 minutes. Yet, I have seen so much growth in him over the last year. His brain is developing and the logical aspects are kicking in. He is very black and white. Some of that is being ADHD. He also has to see how this applies to him and if it does not, good luck getting him on board.
7. More battles with the school regarding absences and a report to the county of educational neglect. Ugh. I know in my heart that I am not "Educationally neglecting" my children but the thought that someone out there thinks I am, because my kids got the very illness that is causing a "pandemic" across the world, just bugs me.
8. Another move. It's been almost 2 years. I'm frustrated with this townhouse. I have a place to go. It's hard to wait. But the thought of packing and unpacking again. Sigh.
9. Basketball practice once a week and games on Saturdays. And a boy who wants to play but is struggling with a coach who is a little harder and does not go by BB's rules. As soon as the clock hits 7pm, BB believes practice is over and he starts to shut down. I watch him at practice and in games and while he seems to have a good time playing, this is not something that stirs passion in him. It's painful to watch.
10. A comment from my 8 year old, while we were at the Mall of America, "We need another person in our family. A father." That is something that has been with us for 7 years and is a wound that I can't heal completely from myself. How do I explain to him that I know he wants and needs a father and at the same time, I am going to be very, very picky about who gets to be that for him? At the same time, there is a very real possibility that a father at this point in his life, is not part of God's plan. Instead, I pull him close, kiss him on the head and whisper, "I know, baby, I know."

I think that is it. It's enough, isn't it? Is it any wonder that I feel tired and a little overwhelmed? When I look at that list and then I walk through my house, I find myself lightening up a bit on my aggravation with how things are not clean for long. In many ways, we are still working on a "survival mode" while also developing some skills. It's a season. We are dancing on the edge of chaos but it is that edge that sharpens us, pulls us together as a family and builds our character.

Grossman, S. & Valiga, T. (2009). The new leadership challenge: Creating the future of nursing. Philadelphia: F. A. Davis Company.

Aha!

2010-01-13T06:03:00.004-06:00

I don't know if this has ever happened to you. Maybe it is only me and it means I am weird. I am actually OK with that. I read a magazine article and by the end of it, I was in tears because the author could have been describing my life or she said something that resonated so personally that it seemed as if that was put in there just for me.

I get this experience a lot at church, quite frankly. How could the pastor know I am going through that? How did the worship team know that I needed to hear that particular song? They did not know it on a person level of course. It is what I believe is the Divine moving inside me. Only the Lord knows exactly what I am going through and what I need to hear, see, read or touch. He orchestrates those moments. If I am receptive, I catch them.

As a single parent, I do not get a lot of time to myself. Sometimes my only safe haven is in the bathroom. And even that can be interrupted at any given moment. However, as my children get older they are less likely to barge in and are learning to respect the closed door. (This does not extend to a door that has not been closed solidly. If there is a crack or a broken seal, then it must mean it is OK to come in. It could not possibly mean that Mom was in a hurry...or that there are two doors and one was missed?) So, I will confess, I spend perhaps a little extra time in my little porcelain retreat than the job requires.

Yesterday, I read an article or an essay about a Mom who was struggling with connecting to her teenage son. She described the turmoil of adolescence for both of them in such a way that I was moved to tears and I was left with a new found insight into how I could approach the two children I have that are entering this stage.

She said that for some children, moving into adolescence, the transition seems relatively painless. They find their niche and go with it. For others, it is more painful. She described how it is like a caterpillar who has created it's chrysalis. A mother cannot climb in there with her child. It is an event that her child must go through alone. Her son created an environment that said, "Stay out" with his angry music, long black sweatshirts and questionable bedroom decor. But when she began to see it as his cocoon, she found she could slowly find ways to move back in to his life and reach back in to his world. The caterpillar in this cocoon stage is going through profound changes, as is a teenager. Everything about them is changing; hair, body, voice, brain and so forth. It is a scary time.

Like I said before, I got to the end of the article and the tears were pouring down my face like sheets of spring rain. Aha! I have been thinking about how much I am afraid of these impending teen years because of the changes I see. I see that time with my children is slipping away. It is moving to fast. I am grieving it. I missed the perspective of my children and what it is like for them.

Smacking myself in the head. I used to be a teenager. I remember feeling isolated a lot. I remember feeling like my parents "just don't get it". I remember thinking torn between what life used to be like when I was a kid and then also all the exciting things that were happening with new freedoms. Sometimes, I just wanted to be a kid. Mostly what I wanted was to be heard.

My son, the one who just turned 11, told me on Sunday that I do not know him at all, that I do not understand him. I wanted to shout back at him, "Of course I do! I have known you since before your born. I held you closer than any other person the planet!" Things are changing inside him and he is right, in a sense, I do not know him. I know glimpses of him and what he shows me and tells me. It is now my job to connect back to him and ask him to share himself with me, to let him tell me who he thinks he is and to help him figure it out or to just be here and support him while he enters his cocoon, goes through these changes and we see what comes out at the end.

I still want to cry. I want him to stay a little boy forever. I still think about the baby who would reach out to me, smiling when I picked him up at the end of the day. It's hard to let go of that.

Birthday season is upon us

2010-01-05T06:58:00.002-06:00

Today, my oldest son turns 11 years old. This is so unreal to me. He is so cute and has planned his whole day. We will be busy for sure. Right after school, BB and Peanut have doctor appointments (ones which had to be rescheduled from December and November due to our family's personal battle with H1N1), followed by BB's first basketball practice since he got sick in November and finally, a birthday dinner at the restaurant of his choice: Wise Guys pizza. None of us have ever been there so it's going to be interesting.

I have been working with him over the past year to gain more independence with personal hygiene. Each of my kids, with the exception of Peanut, can now turn on their own showers and complete that task with minimal intervention from mom, other than the occasional, "I need a towel." He floored me this week when he has begun to comb his hair daily, even trying various arrangements using hairspray and water and even deciding he wants to grow a mullet. Does this mean the same thing to him as it does to me? I'm not sure. I'm picturing the full Billy Ray Cyrus "business in the front-party in the back" hair and I want to scream. However, I am realizing that the time has come for me to let go of that too. And I should be grateful he is taking such an interest.

Earlier this year, BB and I had so many bathing battles. The last straw, and it could be the event that *finally* drove the point home to him that he was being utterly ridiculous, was when he was refusing to get in the shower and it has been days, possibly weeks since his last shower and he smelled bad! I jokingly, but with a serious mission in mind, chased him up the stairs and into the bathroom (My days of throwing him up over my shoulder passed with the last birthday.). He then continued to refuse to get in. I turned the water on, stripped him with my own eyes closed and then told him he needed to wash or I would do it for him. He did not believe me and just stood as far away from the water as possible. So, I pulled the curtain back and stepped in with one foot. He immediately got himself under the water and shouted, "Fine, I can do it myself." Since that day, it still takes a lot of cajoling to get him up to the shower but he will inform me, "I can do it all by myself and I DO NOT need any help from you." Excellent.

THis week, with the hairstyling and the combing every day, he tells me that "I have decided that I should take a shower every other day. That means I should take my next shower on Tuesday."

This my friends, is ownership.

I'm holding my breath as it is Tuesday and the day is young. He does have basketball practice, so I do have that little leverage. My plan is to merely remind him that he said he would do this and then, oh this is so hard for me, let it go.

To me, this is one of the hardest parts of parenting. The ultimate objective, after teaching them about the love of Jesus and I have done my job in teaching them about being Christians, is to set them out into the world as capable, confident, hopefully well-groomed and hygienic adults. However, it is also a bittersweet task because as they meet each objective in achieving their independence, it reminds me that the years are passing quickly and my time with them in this little family bubble is also passing quickly. Before I know it, they will be off on their own. I wonder if this is why I tease them each birthday and tell them how I would like them to stay this age "just a while longer". I've enjoyed them at this age and the next year brings us another step closer to their independence.

I think if I do a good job with parenting, they will leave my home but will always know that I am close to them. Our relationship will change. Just like BB declared he would no longer call me "Mommy" but simply "Mom", it is how it must be.

A month ago, Peanut turned 7. In a few weeks, Princess will turn 13 and will conclude our season of birthdays, until May when PH and I celebrate ours.

A Christmas I will not soon forget

2009-12-29T07:15:00.002-06:00

Believe me, I write these words mostly to myself because I need to hear them. However, I knew going in to this Christmas season that it was going to be difficult. I knew things would not feel the same without my father. Even with knowing all of those things, I was still not prepared for how raw and emotional I was (and still am) going to be. I was not prepared for how emotional my kids would be. I expected it of my Mom, even though she keeps her pain close to herself and does not often let others see.

I wanted to prepare myself. I decided that I would start my own little family tradition. On Christmas Eve it was going to be only myself and my little family. So, I decided that I would allow my children to open two gifts. One was their present from their Grandma Jan, who is their father's mother. The other was from me and part of my new tradition. I gave them each a brand new pair of pajamas.

I planned the evening out. I planned the menu. I planned the order of things. I did not plan for variables. And the variables are where things fell apart. I had to work part of the day on Christmas Eve and I had to write a final paper for my Grad school class. That adds a lot of stress. Two of my children had been battling H1N1 all week and were still recovering. Princess had been sleeping off and on most of the day, waking up between the fevers and to cough. By the time I was ready to take all of us out to the service, she came upstairs and told me that she was feeling dizzy and was so tired. She proceeded to crawl into bed. The boys and I went ahead to church.

It was lovely and I managed to keep my annoyance at their "When is this over?" questions to a very low level. It did help to hand Pumpkin-head the bulletin so he could follow the order of service. And I do think that we enjoyed ourselves. When it was over, BB said, "You know, that was not that bad. I kind of liked it."

Back at home, I woke up Princess and suggested she get in the shower while I finished putting things together for our simple, no fuss dinner of crackers and cheese. I lit the candles on my mantle and set the ambiance. It looked so nice. I went in search of my camera, which Peanut had been using earlier, and could not find it. He looked but still has such short term memory and the attention span of a housefly, he gave up quickly.

I fell apart. I may have said something to the effect of, "Well, since none of you seem to care a bit at all about helping me find this camera so we can start our family Christmas, I may as well cancel it all and go to bed." And in a flood of tears, I ran upstairs. I continued to look, tears filling my eyes til I could not see any more. And I found myself muttering unkind things involving just about every person in my family. I groaned about how a silly purple camera was ruining my plans for a sweet, family Christmas. While sitting on the floor of my closet, it hit me.

It had nothing to do with perfect plans or purple cameras. It had nothing to do with my perceptions of insensitive people who cared more about their own stuff than the needs of others. This was grief. My heart was hurting. Christmas was not going to be perfect. No amount of planning or preparation was going to fix the pain I felt. Making sure that my kids were happy and content was not going to keep them from hurting. I could not plan away the sorrow and by pretending that I could, all I was doing was shoving it under the rug and pretending that the big lump sticking up wasn't there.

What I needed...what I wanted more than anything, was to have my Dad here. I wanted to go downstairs and see him sitting in my big brown chair with Peanut curled up in that little nook by his hip while they chatted about 7 year old secrets. I wanted to be able to go down, and as much as I would hate it, I wanted to smell the cigarette butts in my trashcan. I wanted to see his mug of coffee on my table. I wanted to hear his voice as he talked to my kids. I wanted him here and he was not.

Once I realized that THIS was what all of this freak-out was about, I was able to pull myself together. I wiped away the tears and saw my silly camera sitting on the floor by my window. I went downstairs and told the kids I was sorry for yelling at them but I was better now and we could start. The rest of the evening was fine. I enjoyed watching them open their two presents more than I have ever enjoyed it. We sat together and watched a silly movie in our pajamas eating crackers and cheese. We laughed and it hit me that I had indeed created a memory, minus the meltdown.

Christmas Day...a whole other story. So, lets just say:

To be continued...

One Month

2009-10-08T22:24:00.002-05:00

My Dad has been gone one month, today. I still cannot believe he is really gone. I find myself thinking I can call him on the phone and chat with him about my day or his. Or that I could pull in to the driveway and he will be standing in the garage at his workbench, and he will turn and wave at me. Instead, the phone is unanswered. The garage stands empty. And I am very sad. And apparently, I do really dumb things when I am this sad.

For example: I woke up with a bad headache yesterday. It didn't start as a migraine but became one later. I decided that I would start my day a little later so I took some medicine and went back to bed. But I did not call work to say that this was what I was doing. My supervisor was very frustrated with me and also probably very disappointed. She left me several voice mails asking me to explain what happened and then scheduled a meeting with me today to discuss it.

I wracked my brain all day and all night to figure out why I would do such a stupid thing. I have never done that before. It's very irresponsible and very unlike me to do that. I had no good reason for it. Until I talked to my mom and she told me it is grief. But she warned me that I need to increase my awareness of my grief and make sure that I still keep up with my responsibilities while dealing with my sadness.

On the same day, BB lost a shoe and did not get on the bus. He and I looked every where and could not find the shoe. I still have no idea where that silly shoe could be. So, I told him we would drive up to Target and get him new shoes. He really did need them but I had been asking him to wait til payday which was a mere 2 days away. My 1 hour of lateness turned into 3, thanks to a missing shoe and construction traffic.

To add to my day, I got an email from Peanut's teacher informing me that Peanut only had a juice box in his lunch and the lunch helpers had him go through the line because he would need more to eat than that. Then he said that if Peanut ever needs a lunch, just let him know and he would take care of it.

While this was very kind and sweet, I felt so silly again. I tried to explain that I am teaching my children to make their own lunches and Peanut packed his own but I did not know why he only put the juice in there. When I asked him later, he told me he just ran out of time and couldn't find anything else to put in it.

It's a training issue, not a food issue. Again, my Mom suggested that these two incidences are also signs of grief. Forgetfulness. Maybe.

2009-10-02T23:56:00.002-05:00

I am really struggling. I am hating the fact that I have to work. I am hating the fact that my house is falling apart. The laundry is piling up. The bathrooms are natural disasters. I'm afraid that something furry is going to grow in my kitchen because I have dishes to do. I feel as if I am stuck in slow motion while the rest of the world has sped up. I fear I will never catch up.

And I wonder if people forget that I am still grieving, that it is going to take a long time for me to feel normal again, for me to wake up and not feel like crying every day, for me to not wish I could just pick up the phone and call my Dad, just to hear his voice. I am afraid I will forget what his voice sounds like. It's horribly unfair.

My kids are working through their sadness in their own ways. Pumpkin-head had some regression back to wetting the bed a few times. That seems to have stopped but he worried every night that he was going to do it again. All of them have issues with concentration and focus in school. Peanut is the one who just breaks my heart because he will ask me questions that are completely out of the blue, in my eyes.

"What if you die, Mom?"
"Is Aunt Desert Bloom dead?"
"What if Charley dies?"
"I sure do miss Grandpa."

Bless his little, 6 year old heart. He is trying so hard to grasp it all. And he is afraid. So, when he asks me questions like this, I just try to answer honestly.

Well, sweetie, we don't have a guarantee about how long we will live. But when Mommy does die, I'm going to be with Jesus in heaven, so that is a good thing. I wonder if you worry about who will take care of you? You will not be alone. Aunt Desert Bloom or the Mrs and Biker Boy will take care of you. Mom will make sure that you are taken care of.

I need to write up my will and make these plans official.

I need the world to stop for a while

2009-09-25T22:00:00.002-05:00

I miss my Dad every day. And every day, memories of him come to mind and I swing from smiles to tears. I find it frustrating that I am grieving and yet life keeps moving forward when I need to time. I need quiet. I need rest. I need time to just cry or laugh or pour over pictures or to just BE.

If I was still painting, this is what I would paint about. I am standing still while the world spins around me in a whirl of colors, so fast I can't make anything out. I want to reach out but cannot. I'm like a top that has stopped spinning and is laying on the floor, waiting to be wound and spun again or if I cannot be wound up, I would like the rest of the world to stop moving so fast.

I find myself staring into space, lost in thought. I make myself do the ordinary tasks even though it just feels so hard and unimportant. Yet, I know that for my children, they need to see that we are OK and we can continue to live, even with this hole inside.

Tonight, Peanut asked me what he would do if I died. Poor baby. I told him that I certainly did not plan to die any time soon but he would be taken care of by Grandma, Aunt Desert Bloom, The Mrs and Biker Boy. He will not be alone. He grew very quiet after that.

The truth of the matter is that I can give him no promise of tomorrow. Only the hope that we will go live with Jesus and those who have gone before and the ones left behind will take care of each other. It's all I can promise. I wish it was more.

Grief

2009-09-20T00:02:00.002-05:00

There is a debate that I have been reading about regarding the Stages of Grief and whether there really are stages or not. The term "stages" implies that a person should move somewhat sequentially from one stage to the other. My own experience would plant me on the opposite side of the debate. I think grieving is much more like a multi-layered pie and sometimes, you get a slice of everything inside, all at the same time.

I have had the opportunity to talk with many of my clients about the grieving process and have found that when I explain it this way, it seems to make more sense to them. I also explain that there is no time table on grief. You go through it and resolve it in however long it takes you and if someone tells you that you should be done grieving by now, they are insensitive idiots. One example I can think of for this type of insensitivity occurred with a co-worker whose father had committed suicide. At the time I met her, it had been almost 2 years. She was extremely frustrated and hurt when she requested to have the anniversary of his death off and it was denied because the supervisor told her it had been long enough and she should be "over it" by now.

In my situation, it's only been a little over a week since my father passed away and I know that I am beginning to truly grieve. The funeral is over. Family has returned home. I have returned to work and my kids are back in school. Life moves forward. However, I am finding that I am still struggling with feelings of shock and disbelief to reminiscence to missing him so much, I feel like it will always hurt.

I have trouble concentrating at work but it did get easier the second day. I did manage to get my housework done today and also to relax. Yet, when I tried to lay down and go to sleep, the sadness swept over me like a huge ocean wave. I cannot believe he is gone and I walk around feeling as if I am still dreaming the whole thing happened and that any minute, he is going to pull up in his red F150, handing out Starbursts to my kids or that I could dial my Mom's house and he will pick up the phone. The sadness comes when I realize it will never happen again.

2009-09-16T08:37:00.003-05:00

On Thursday September 10, 2009, my father passed away unexpectedly while making his USA Today delivery. In many ways, I think it was a blessing that it was quick and that he did not suffer a long, drawn out illness. However, it was all too soon. And I am still coming to terms with the reality that he is truly gone.

His funeral was held yesterday, September 15 and my mother asked each of my sisters and I to write a tribute and then asked me to read them in the service. I was honored that she would ask this of me. The following is what I wrote and then read:

My Dad preferred to live his life in a quiet, unassuming manner. While he would be so pleased to see all of you here today, he would absolutely be embarrassed by all the fuss. And he most certainly would not like me standing here, reading these words. Not because he would not like what my sisters and I have written but because to hear one of us read it out loud would have been too much for him and he did not like anyone to see him cry. That is just the kind of man he was.

His quietness in living did not mean my Dad lacked passion. He had many passions, dreams and pursuits. At various points in his life, he fell in love with certain instruments like the banjo, the mandolin and the hammered dulcimer and proceeded to build one or two of each. He never really learned to play but he loved making them. When he fell in love with Scottish bagpipes, I half expected him to figure out a way to build his own but it isn't really a wood instrument, so we were safe. However, we were subjected to a bagpipe CD on occasion. His passions always seemed to involve woodworking or animals. He built his own wood sailboat, "The Crappie Stalker" and a beautiful wood strip canoe. I will never forget when he decided he wanted to raise miniature pot-bellied pigs because a couple friends and I spent the better part of an afternoon chasing that pig through the woods behind the house. He never did get to pursue his dream of the Llama Therapy Ranch.

His number one passion however has always been his family. He had no greater source of pride than my Mom, the three of us girls and then his grandchildren. He would do anything he could to make sure his family was taken care of.

As I have thought about my life with my Dad over my childhood and my adulthood, the memories that continue to surface are of our many camping and fishing adventures. He loved the outdoors. His girls, for the most part, did not. "Mrs. Miller" for one, hates bugs. "Desert Bloom" and I prefer quiet indoor pursuits. He liked to take us fishing, a lot. He just never seemed to understand that I really do not like fish or fishing. However, when I was 20 or so, I went on one last camping and fishing trip with him. I really just wanted to ride in his canoe and read my book. But I indulged him by throwing my line in the water. We soon learned that the lake was full of bullheads and began to catch one after the other. My Dad showed me how to get them off the hook and throw them back. But this became very annoying to me so I quit baiting my hook and still threw my line out. This did not deter the fish from biting. Eventually, the fishing was interrupting my reading so much that I just quit putting my line in. But we joked that this may not stop the fish at all, they probably would jump out of the water and find my hook anyway.

My Dad will forever by my number one hero. This trait became even more prevalent when I became a driver. For several years, I developed a certain affinity for winding up in ditches all over the state. Always, he would come and pull me out. He never made me feel silly or stupid. His first question was "Are YOU alright?"

These car rescues continued when I went off to college in Duluth. My predicaments usually occurred late at night, in sub-zero temperatures and always a couple hours from home. Nevertheless, he would get in his car or his little red truck and drive to where ever I was and fix an alternator (which he always seemed to have an extra in the garage), or a radiator hose or a battery that burst into flame with a comment like, "Well, that doesn't look good." He would let me sit in the warmth of his car or the gas station while he suffered in the bitter cold. And then I would follow him home. He was not easy to follow, it took a lot of skill and a heavy foot to keep up with him!

My biggest rescue came when my marriage ended and I needed to leave TX. My Dad, without hesitation the moment he heard the news, began to make plans for driving down to get me. My Mom only slowed him down a bit when she reminded him that 3 adults and 3 small children in car seats would not fit in their Ford Focus. From that moment on, he was the man I could count on for anything. His joke was his business was now called "Blueduck Woodcraft and Daycare". He so often took care of my kids when I was going back to school or when one of them was sick and I had to work. He would also pick them up if I couldn't. He only said No if he could not find a way to change the plans of his day.

My most cherished memories will be of him and his relationship with my children. I know he loved being a Dad to us girls and he was proud of us. But when his first grandchild came along, the pride and the love practically oozed out of every pore. I will never forget the day when Princess, who was 4 or 5 months old, and I stopped by to see him at work. He met us at the door of his unit so that HE could be the one to carry her in and introduce his granddaughter to everyone. And with the grandson's that followed, he was there when they were born or shortly after and again, it was love at first sight. Each child was a precious gift to him. We lived with my parents for 4 years and I think that moving out was hard on all of us but it was perhaps hardest on Grandpa and Peanut who had been with each other every day of Peanut's life. When it had been a few days since we had seen or talked to Grandpa, Peanut would start to cry and we would call Grandpa. They would talk on the phone for a few minutes and I know that phone call made both of their days.

I miss you, Dad. More than words can say.

Time for school!!

2009-09-09T19:03:00.002-05:00

I love it when September rolls around. The kids go back to school and routine returns. My living room stays clean longer than 5 minutes. I love the smell of newly sharpened pencils, notebook paper and new crayons.

I am not a big fan of Meet the Teacher night. It's not that I don't want to meet the teachers who will have my children for most of the day, 5 days a week. I just don't know what to say.

"Hello, Mr. Blah-Blah-Blah...I'm TulipMom. This is my 5th grader, BB. What would you like to know? He's smart, clever, funny...He has ADHD and and IEP. He's going to challenge you for the first few weeks and make you want to rip your hair out but stay strong, stick to a routine, be firm and we will both be fine. I'm rootin' for ya...I'm sure we will be in touch soon."

"Ahhh, Mrs. So-and-S0...this is my 3rd grader, PH. He's a sweet boy. He had a rough year last year but he is over it now. He loves sports and his friends and anything Lego or Star Wars. He really is a good boy."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. First-Grade-Teacher. This is Peanut. He's a fun one. He likes to chat. In fact, he is very seldom quiet. He is funny and cute and he's my baby. But don't treat him like that. I want him to get out of acting like it. Ummm, well, I'm not real sure how things are going to go. He has a hard time sitting still. He does not always do what he is told or like to listen. But I'm sure it is going to be a great year. Really. I'm almost positive."

And for my daughter...same speech...multiple times.

"I'm Princess's Mom. She's a sweet girl. She's very quiet and needs a lot of encouragement to speak up but when she does, she has good things to say. You will enjoy her."

The other thing I love about a new school year is feeling like I get a fresh start. It's like an annual Do-over. I take some time to think about what worked last year and what did not.

These are the changes I am making this year: (It's only been two days, but so far, so good)

*Family breakfast at 7am. This ensures that everyone has eaten and is awake. I also get the chance to see everyone before I head off to work.

*The kids are making their own lunches. I grumbled so often last year about making lunches every morning. The kids grumbled about what I put in there. So, now, they know exactly what they are getting and it seems to have more value since they did the work.

*Once homework starts coming in, I want to discuss with each of them how they like to do their homework best. I sort of know already that my oldest boys do better if they can lounge on the couch. Princess does better with peace and quiet.

*Family meal planning and a posted menu. This has rejuvenated meals for me and brought back some creativity where I had grown stagnant. I was also tired of the complaints. Now the kids can look at the week and know that even if they don't like tonight's dinner, they may like tomorrow. And we gave each night a fun name: Sloppy Saturday, Special Sunday, Macaroni Monday, Taco Tuesday, Whatever Wednesday, Take It Out Thursday and Fun Friday. I have told the kids that these titles are loosely defined so that we can experiment with different things that fit the categories. Taco Tuesday could be tacos, could be gyros or enchilada's or super nachos. Whatever Wednesdays is my freebie night. Most of the year, we go to church supper and then clubs but other times we have Wednesday off, I can put "whatever" I want in that spot.

I think I have other things I am changing too but this is all I can think of at the moment. So far, these changes are good and well received. I particularly like having breakfast in the morning with my kids and starting off the day together.

I love my Do-Over/Fresh Start Fall.

I see the sun

2009-09-05T08:16:00.002-05:00

I think this dark cloud of depression is beginning to lift. It is probably a combination of the increased dose of Zoloft, adding Vitamin D, a lot of prayer and time. I am finding it is easier to deal with the daily stresses of life. I am less irritable, less tired. I even tried to lay down for a nap last night after work and found that I actually did not need it.

I also started therapy this week but it was an intake appointment so we have not begun to work. She is working out what my official diagnosis is. Her initial feeling was dysthymia or an adjustment disorder. I looked up both and I would go along more with dysthymia which is sort of a "low-grade" ongoing depression that for me has been under control. It's chronic but not severe. This seems to fit. But I will let her discuss that more with me. Other than that, I like her a lot. I found her very easy to talk to and she was very straightforward with her methods of therapy and it is exactly what I want.

My life continues to be stressful. Financial stress always abound. I learned this week that my rent check for July bounced. I have no idea how I am going to cover that. And due to an issue with my kids uploading games to a new cell phone, my cell phone bill was much higher than planned and that too did not clear the bank and was returned. So, now my phones are cut off and I don't know how I will be able to get that resolved either. What I do know is that God is in control. This weekend, there is nothing I can do but sit tight and turn my anxiety over to the Lord.

I had a dream in which a friend came to me and told me the very same thing. The friend said, "What we do know, Tulip, is that God is in control. And that is enough." When I woke up from that, I knew it was my divine message.

So, I will enjoy this last weekend before the craziness of the first week of school starts. My work week ahead will be equally crazy. My Nurse counterpart will be out most of the week due to the death of her father so I will be picking up some of her cases for the week. I am working 3 days this week but my Thursday will be a long day as I have a client to pick up at 7:45am and my last client to see at 6:30pm. "And hours to go before I sleep..."

So, this weekend my objective is to rest and relax.

After the Fair

2009-09-01T22:13:00.002-05:00

I think going to the Fair every other year is going to be quite alright with me. By that time, the not-so-good memories will have faded into that sweet, golden haze of reminiscence. We will have forgotten the sore feet, the stress of trying to get there, the bickering about where to go and when and who does and does not want to do what. And the internal screaming in my head about how much money was spent at the fair will have subsided or at least slipped into a softer whisper.

The things I will remember about this year's trip to the MN State Fair:

1. Riding the bus and listening to Peanut tell strangers about what he was looking forward to at the fair.

2. Buying my kids their very first Pronto Pup and watching them enjoy it.

3. Having BB ask to take my picture with my head poking out of the face of the Mona Lisa outside the Fine Arts building and enjoying the fact that it was completely his idea.

4. Cheesecurds and the noises we make while eating them.

5. Peanut driving the mini tractor at the Little Hands farm, and taking it off the approved path and then causing a traffic jam with the other little tractors. The rest of us stood laughing and called it "Bumper Tractors".

6. Princess holding Peanut's hand while crossing the streets and the moment when she looked over at me and then grabbed mine. There won't be too many times when a 12 year old girl will want to hold her mother's hand.

7. BB's one quest: to find the WCCO booth. It's his favorite station. He loves Don Shelby and the "Good Question" segment. He got to watch the weather man tape his voice over and he claims he was on TV. Who am I to steal his 15 minutes of fame?

8. Riding the bumper cars with my kids.

9. The Miracle of Life Barn. I could spend all my time there. It's my favorite. BB found his favorite calf named Charley. The boy loves cows. PH found the piglets and even got to pet his favorite one. We got to see all the fuzzy ducklings and the little peeps.

10. The sigh of relief when I found Peanut after we used the bathroom and thought he was lost. And the pride I felt when I realized that his brother PH went to look and wait for him so he would not get scared.

11. BB hugging a 6 foot inflatable Kemps cow.

12. The laughter of my children as they rode the swings in the Kidway.

13. The look of sheer delight on BB's face as he rode the Giant Slide and then his remark afterwards, "That was so fun! I guess this place is not so bad after all." (He had been feeling a little let down by what he was seeing at the Fair)

14. Watching Peanut ride the slide, absolutely stone faced but then when he hit the bottom, he stood up, grinned broadly and said, "That was so awesome!" Two years ago, when he rode that slide, he was so scared, he declared he would never ride it again.

15. As we left the fair, Peanut hit "Meltdown Mode" and was crying. PH who had bought a Whoopee cushion, inflated it and came over and said, "Will this cheer you up?" and proceeded to squeeze it. I would have laughed but Peanut just shot him a nasty glare and kept crying.

16. The feeling of relief of sitting on the bus after all that walking.

17. Making silly faces at Peanut who was sitting several seats away.

18. Eating ice cream cones on the drive home.

I feel like Eyeore

2009-08-25T21:51:00.003-05:00

I mentioned before that August is a bad month for me. And this has been one of the toughest ones I have had in a long time. My kids, however, have done beautifully. And for that I am grateful. I am the one who feels like I am falling apart.

I have been so tired; physically and mentally. I just can't seem to get enough sleep. I have been feeling that way all summer, actually. I can find no reason to explain it. I get enough sleep. I seem to sleep well when I go to bed. Nothing has changed in that area. I just find it harder and harder to wake up in the morning. It finally did dawn on me a week or so ago. Depression.

My black cloud.

I thought I had it under control. I take an antidepressant every day. I have for about 12 years, since I developed severe post-partum depression. I have tried to take myself off of it a few times and know that when I do, it's bad for everyone because I get irritable, moody and tired. Life is just no fun. So, I decided that like my thyroid medicine, it is something I will take lifelong.

Things have just slipped downhill to the point where I cannot fix it alone. Thankfully, I do have several people in my life who are aware and watch for me. They see the signs and call me out. I kind of blew it off at first but I tucked the warning away in a corner where it could whisper to me, getting louder until I had to listen.

My breaking point found me driving to work, crying over a silly comment a friend made on my Facebook page. I know it was meant in fun but I blew it out of proportion in my head and felt hurt, then angry, followed by sadness and tears. It hit me that I was being completely irrational. I had to talk it out in order to hear it. When I heard the words come out of my mouth, I heard how irrational it was and then I could talk myself through that and get over it.

I called and got myself into my doctor. I called and set up therapy. I talked to my Mom. I know I am getting myself back on track but I still feel like I am dragging my black cloud around with me. I still feel tired. I did find out from my visit with my dentist and my doctor that I had an infected tooth that required a root canal. I got that taken care of. I also learned that I am deficient in Vitamin D which could be contributing to my increased depression. A simple supplement could take care of that, along with the bump in my antidepressant. I also learned that this crazy problem I have been having with pain in my thumb is actually something, and not just my imagination. So I have a splint to wear in order to rest my thumb and get the swelling down around the nerve because it may be a repetitive stress injury.

I fight every day to get up. I fight every day to keep myself on track financially but I struggle with feeling both apathetic and hopeless that I cannot ever manage my banking right, so why bother. I continue to feel gloomy and irritable. It does seem better, but it is very slow.

The Un-iversary

2009-08-12T23:01:00.002-05:00

August is one month I do not look forward to for many reasons. It marks the imminent end of summer. It is usually the hottest month and I find myself suffering under the heat and humid. It also marks the anniversary of my flight from Texas, 7 years ago and then a year later to the week, my divorce after 10 years of marriage.

I thought I was doing fine this year. I was very busy in July and knew that this time was coming. I figured that awareness was the bulk of my battle. So, I was surprised last week when I found myself falling apart. I was crying over the smallest thing. I found myself oversensitive, irritable and irrational.

I guess that awareness did not prevent the emotions from rising to the surface. I did do some things differently this year however. Instead of shutting myself out and hiding from the world, I reached out to friends. And many friends reached back out to me with love and support.

So, maybe every year, I will continue to remember that Un-iversary. It slowly feels less and less painful but I think of it like a scar; I always know it's there and sometimes the old wounds ache. But I am so thankful that I have family and friends who love me and surround me, especially in those times when that scar is throbbing.

Back from vacation

2009-08-06T12:45:00.002-05:00

What happened to July? I think I blinked twice and missed it and find myself in August.

Actually, we did a lot of fun things in July and time went by really fast. We took a family vacation, the first in several years...and the first in which no one was in diapers, pull-ups or requiring every 3-4 hour feedings. We were invited to go to Conference Point Center in Williams Point, Wisconsin on beautiful Lake Geneva for a week-long family camp. We had a truly amazing time. Rather than regale you with every little detail I thought I would share with you some of the funniest quotes from our trip:

BB who truly is a great reader but some words are new and tricky to pronounce on the first try noted that we were now passing by "Ewwww Claire and Chip-a-wee-ah Falls"

We stopped for lunch in Madison, WI at a farm where our friend's sister and her family live. It was beautiful. BB commented, "I smell cows. I know they are here somewhere."

[I should mention that he LOVES cows. He is not too fond of any other furry creature and tolerates our two feline pets but thinks cows are cool. ]

Upon discovering the cows, he remarks, "I have now seen cows up close. This is the best part of the trip."

But we haven't even gotten to camp yet, BB...

"I know. But I have seen cows and this is it. It's all I need."

As the children, who numbered 8 at this point, studied the cows, the grown-ups conversed and the subject of the cows gender came up. Chris's sister stated that all of these are steer. Nina then asked, "What is the difference between a bull and a steer?"

I said, thinking carefully because there are lots of little ears around, "Well...they are all boy cows who cannot make baby cows."

Peanut commented, "Don't the cows know that they have bugs on them?"
Mom--"Yes, but they can't really do anything about it."
BB--"That is because they don't have opposable thumbs."

Later as we pulled into camp and our feet had not even left the van, the kids exclaimed, "This is the best place ever...when we come back next year..."

At lunch one day, the kids were playing with these accordion fans and next thing I knew we were talking in Japanese accents and saying, "Perhaps you are hot...Don't make me fan you..." and then we were doing karate moves with the fans as well. It might be a moment of "You had to be there."

While on a boat ride and trolling through a very swanky marina looking at yachts, the driver noted there was a large Northern swimming below. BB and PH looked over the side and watched it. PH, resting his chin on his arm, said wistfully, "I would like to be a fish."

BB, while walking around the camp with me commented, "I think I would like to be a cow. You can walk around and poop where ever you want. You can blow snot out your nose and lick it with your tongue and no one cares. Yup, I think being a cow would be a good thing."

"Mom, lets take the short cut to our cabin." Ha!! It wound up being a tour around the windy path of the point with some steep, muddy slopes, rocks and finally a steep climb up to our cabin that took about 20 minutes. Whereas had we cut across camp, it would have taken us 5.

"We're the Gospel Fuzzies, Yeah."

While bowling, I will note that the kids had bumpers up and I did not but I still hold my title as the Gutterball Queen, the kids were laughing at my feeble attempts to bowl...I had also been playing volleyball all week and had injured my elbow...

I said, "Well, I am playing poorly so that you can all feel good about yourselves." To which my daughter looked at me, raised up an eyebrow and burst out laughing.

Good times. Good memories and we will go back next year.

Moments

2009-07-05T15:25:00.002-05:00

I think that life is full of "moments" rather than of events or days. I can do all sorts of planning for a special day and then when the day comes, something comes along to unravel all my perfect planning. Shoes get lost, we oversleep and start late, tempers flare and I find myself gritting my teeth wondering if it is even worth the trouble.

However, over this past weekend, I did plan several BIG THINGS but the "Things Unplanned" almost got in the way. One of the things that almost blew it was an item that I purchased for myself and had not even used yet disappeared. I bought a mini cassette recorder with the intention of recording my story for the book I want to write since I keep getting stuck as I try to write. A friend suggested taping myself and then "transcribing" it as a way to get over the blocks. One one of my kids was even aware I had bought it and the other who was with when I did would not have any idea what it was. So, this narrowed down my list of plausible suspects to the two eldest children.

I was very upset by this. I needed to get it across to them that I take these breaches of security seriously and I was not going to just sit by and "take it". There was going to be a serious consequence for everyone if this item did not get found and returned to me by the end of the day. "Nobody" knew anything about it. Nobody knew where it could be and Nobody could find it. So, I said unless this tape recorder and the tapes were on my bed by the end of the day, Nobody was going to Duluth on Friday.

I had to remind them of this several times through out the day. I did not want to cancel the day trip. I was looking forward to it just as much as the kids were. It was my mini vacation as well. But a lesson needed to be learned and the consequence needed to be strict or they would not get it.

By the time I got home from work, the tape recorder was found and put on my bed. No one confessed to taking it but it was my daughter who found it. At that point, I decided I would let the guilty conscience work its magic. At some point, the guilty party is going to come clean.

We were able to enjoy a fantastic day in Duluth with my friend Beth and her two nephews. We packed a lot into just a few hours but all 6 children said it was one of their favorite days. For me, the moment I remember most was sitting on the beach, watching all 6 children running and splashing into the ice cold water and squealing with delight. I could feel the warm, soft sand under my feet. Then two of my boys came over and tried to bury my feet. It was splendid to just be there and for a brief time, not think about anything else in my life but that time with my children. Later on, we moved up the shore to the "rock beach" as we call it and I sat on a rock, looked out across Lake Superior and said to Beth, "We live in a great state." I love Minnesota.

Teachable Moments

2009-06-26T21:11:00.002-05:00

Last week, on the last day I had with just my boys (before Princess came home from camp), someone asked a question about what particular road sign meant. I explained it and then more and more questions and discussions came up about road signs. What surprised me was the length of our conversation and how engaged the boys were in it.

As I explained signage to them a few things occurred to us about the use of color and symbols:

1. Black and Yellow signs are warnings. They tell the driver that something is going to change; a road is going to curve sharply, a road is getting narrower, cars will merge into the lane. These signs, I told the boys, mean the driver needs to pay attention to what is coming.

The question came up then about a sign that had a railroad track on one side and a black line parallel to it and then a black line cutting across it. I asked BB to tell me what he thinks it means. He figured out that it means there is a train track next to the road and then asked "But why do I care? I can see the train track."

Ahhh, young grasshopper...in daylight, yes, it's easy to see but at night or when the trees are thick, that track is hidden and then what if we decided we needed to turn. It would be good to know that there is a track there and there are no bells or road bars that come down if a train comes so a driver has to pay attention to the environment and a possible change.

"Ohhhhh. I still don't care about the train track but OK."

2. Red & White signs or Red, White and Black signs give instructions, usually in things we can't do: No Left turn, No U-turn, No Parking, Do Not Enter, Stop.

3. Green & White signs are information signs about streets. They tell the driver the street name or upcoming roads.

4. Brown & White signs give information about points of interest like museums, zoos, scenic overlooks and historical sights.

So, then one of my bright boys said, "Why do we need all these signs and colors?"

Good question!! I explained it like this, "When I am going down the road at 55 mph, I am doing a lot of different things like keeping my foot on the gas, checking my mirrors, checking my speed, watching the road and then also trying to find where I am going. I need information but I can't or don't have time to read a long paragraph such as "Oh, the road up here is going to turn sharply to the right, so you are going to need to slow down a bit and also watch for cars merging into your lane as you turn onto White Bear Avenue."

BB giggled. He got the point. "So, you need to know stuff fast."

Yup, and it has to be something everyone can figure out.

We spent the next several minutes of our trip guessing what different signs meant. I do believe that this was one of our first driving lessons. It was fun.

Why TulipMom's been gone so long...

2009-06-21T16:14:00.003-05:00

After weeks of wandering alone and disoriented in the badlands of Mt. Washmore and the Denim Valley, a friendly face appeared. He was on horseback but when he got close to her, he dismounted. She noticed that he wore the uniform of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. She was so tired, hungry and thirsty, she didn't care that it was strange to come across a Mounty this far south of Canada. She took the canteen he offered and drank as if she had never tasted water before.

He helped her onto his horse and then climbed up behind her. She told him her tale. It started out as a simple journey, one she has made hundreds of time. She visits Mt. Washmore at least every few weeks. But this time, the trip was more treacherous on a count of some unforseen spring storms and an unreliable Sherpa named Luigi.

Never again would she hire a Sherpa from an ad on Craigslist or someone advertising a discount because they are "building up a client base and a resume" and then when asked about their education, he states he took his courses online but had mono and missed the semester where they traveled to the mountains. He assured her it was OK because he had been practicing with packs and lines in his backyard and studying his textbooks.

At the first crack of thunder and a loose boulder that looked sort of like boxer shorts with spiderman and something akin to "skid marks", Luigi ran off, shreiked like a 5 year old girl, cried, "Mommy!" and stuck his thumb in his mouth. She realized then that it wasn't a good idea to keep the map in his pack.

Over the next few days, she continued to climb Mt. Washmore and thought she reached the summit, only to discover yet another peak she had never seen before. She headed toward it and discovered it was just a mirage. This confusion threw her for a loop and as supplies dwindled she grew more disoriented. She found herself wandering further and further away from the mountains and deep in the Denim Valley.

It's a good thing she did let her friends and family know where she was going so when she did not show up for dinner, they could send for help.

It could have happened like that. Or perhaps she has been knee deep in laundry, dishes, the end of school and the start of baseball...and an over-active imagination.

Peanut

2009-05-28T07:36:00.004-05:00

Peanut has been talking an awful lot about his Dad lately. It's a struggle for me because he has never met his Dad. He was born in MN, his Dad was in TX and two days after he was born, his Dad went to prison. These are complex issues to try to relay to a 6 year old in a way that he can understand.

I have been confused as to why this is coming up all of a sudden. I'm not afraid to talk to my children about it. I want them to come to me. I made a promise to them, in my heart, that I would be honest with them about what happened and that I would not vilify their Dad in any way that he has not already done himself. I would speak only truth, not trash talk. But honestly, that gets really hard when I see the pain on their faces and when Peanut asks me, "Why did you tell the police to come and take my Dad away? Couldn't you have not told them?"

Ugh.

Those are the moments when I pray for wisdom and the right words to come and I try to listen for the underlying questions.

Yesterday, Peanut was singing a song that went something like "It's time to go home to see your mom and your dad..."

I did not need lightning bolts or handwriting on the wall to clue me in to that one.

"Peanut, do you sing that song at school?"

"Yes. Every day before we go home."

"Does that song make you think about your Dad?"

"Yes. I don't go home and see my Dad but everyone else does."

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

"Awww, baby. I know it is hard to not have a dad at home. But you do have a Mom who loves you very much. You also have a Grandpa, Grandma, Auntie Desert Bloom, Auntie Mrs, Uncle Biker Boy, Great Grandma...Soooo many people love you. And you have Jesus and He is with you all the time."

"I know. I just wish I could see my Dad."

It's not that I want my kids to hate their father. I don't want them to grow up with hate in their hearts. But in all honesty, I often feel that he does not deserve their love. Other then provide half of their DNA, he is nothing in their lives but a ghost, a reminder to them that they are different. They don't have a two-parent family. They don't fit what they see on TV with father's playing catch with sons or coaching their sports teams or taking them fishing. I would hate to break it to them and tell them that their father, were he around would not be doing those things with them anyway. He would disappoint them in that area too.

He was extremely self-absorbed. To this day, when he writes to me annually on Mother's Day and my birthday (which really makes May suck, thank you very much) he refers to them not by name, individually but as "the kids" or "the kiddo's". He tries to imply an intimate relationship with them that is just not there. He does not get that. He is not here through the good and the bad. He doesn't get to celebrate the victories in their lives or hug them when they lose or miss the mark. He's not here when they are sick and fevered, vomiting all over every surface in the house. He, in my mind, has not earned the right to refer to them in a group or by a nickname.

To me, this pattern of his, that he has repeated over the last 6 years of referring to them en masse, just continues to show me that they are merely objects in his world, they are things he feels belong to him, but they are not individuals. They are not people to him. They are things.

I wish I could explain that to my children but I know that it would scar them and hurt them far worse then the fantasy father they have. At some point, when they are old enough, and I have told them this, the court order for no contact will no longer apply because they will be adults, and they can write to him and visit him if they want to. I know that should they pursue that, he will disappoint them. He will hurt them. And I will be here to catch them. I can protect them now as best I can. It's the only thing I can do.

Self Perception

2009-05-27T14:39:00.002-05:00

The other day, a friend described me as outgoing. I was floored. This is not a word I would have ever used to describe myself. I'm an introvert. I have since learned that introverts don't NOT like people, we do, but we also need a lot of "alone time" to regroup and recharge. I have a job that requires a lot of time with people, both co-workers and clients and people in the community. And then I get home and I have 4 more little people who also require my time and energy. In order to refresh myself and get ready for the next day, I need quiet things that relax me. I scrapbook. I knit. I read. I watch some TV.

To me, an outgoing person is someone who is bubbly and always on the go, busy chatting it up with people all the time. Like my sister, The Mrs., she can talk to anyone at anytime and in fact, the more she is around people, the more energy she gets. She loves the city and the energy. I find it exhausting. I'm an introvert. She's an extrovert.

So, I asked another friend about this term "outgoing". She agreed that she would consider me outgoing but not someone who needs the spotlight or all the attention. OK. That is making more sense. That is true. I'm content to be behind the scenes. I don't need to run the show and "be seen". She also told me that I seem to be confident and comfortable with myself. Hmmmm. I like that. That is a good thing. That is something I have been striving for.

What is weird however, is that I have not seen that in myself. I sometimes still see myself as the mousy, frumpy, forever pregnant housewife who did not voice opinions, who did not rock boats, who did not speak up but did what she was asked without complaint. Is it possible then that I have changed in ways that I did not even know about?

This was good news to me. It made me feel great. I want to be seen as confident. I am proud of what I have accomplished and where I have come from. I have gone through a lot of muck and mire to get here. And it seems that this is shining through, even though I still look at myself and see the problems, the mistakes, all the things that still are not going right.

I worry that I am fake. But I think if you worry that you are fake, then you are probably not. Fake people think they are real. When I was married, I had a fake veneer. From the outside, I looked like I had it all together. I had the husband with the good job, the house in the suburbs, the cute blond kids, nice car but I was living a lie. No one knew that behind that veneer was a dark secret. Some of the secrets I did not even know about. My husband worked very hard to keep up the appearance that everything was fine while the reality was that everything was crumbling and the life we had was about to fall apart. But we were good at hiding the truth from most people. And the ones who could see something was wrong, my husband found ways to push them out of our lives.

That is why I worry about being fake. I want to be genuine. I want to be real. I want who I am on the inside to shine through to the outside. Someone I have not met in my office, but is on an email loop with me, told me she has to meet me because my email was so funny she about fell off her chair. Really? There was a time in my life when no one laughed at my jokes but me. And now a stranger tells me I am funny and a friend tells me I am outgoing. And those are two things I have always wanted to be.

The best weekend

2009-05-25T10:30:00.002-05:00

I think what has been the best thing about my really great weekend is that I did not plan any of it. It all just sort of happened. There were moments that were far from perfect but overall, that does not diminish this weekend as being one of my favorites in a really long time.

Friday night, my family and I celebrated my birthday with ice cream at Dairy Queen. My oldest 3 children spent that time entertaining their aunt: Desert Bloom with various jokes and silly stories. I sat with my parents and Peanut and just enjoyed my ice cream and opening some presents. That is always fun. I like presents. One gift from my sister was a slinky and I knew that I would not get to play with that gift.

On Saturday, we spent the afternoon at the pool. We just splashed and relaxed. The kids have been waiting for the pool to open since...well...since it closed last summer. I enjoyed watching Peanut swimming around like a fish, diving in the water, jumping and just enjoying himself. Princess was born with gills and apparently when water hits them, her ears close and she cannot hear the outside world. It took 5 minutes of calling her name and then her brother chasing her all around the pool in order to get her attention and tell her it was time to go.

I think Sunday was my favorite day of all. After church, we went on a picnic to Elm Creek Park Reserve and joined 3 other families. The kids played for hours while the adults chatted and laughed.

BB however had it determined in his head that this event should last only about 45 minutes and he wanted to go back home so that he could go to his friend J's house. I warned him that he should not make plans without consulting me and I told him that the times he gave his friend were not accurate. I also told him I did not want him to spend the afternoon asking me if it was time to go.

I refused to look at the clock but when I did, it was 5pm. And this sent him through the roof. He began to pitch a fit. It was quiet at first but when I did not respond, he increased the intensity and pretty soon, he was banging into me. In a way, I was glad that some of my friends saw him act this way because for the most part, he only does this at home. I also wanted him to realize that he does not always get his way and he does not get to control everything because of his notions of how long things should take. I refused to look at my cell phone for the time because I did not want him to be focused on the time.

He did wind up missing the chance to go play with his friend because it was almost 7 by the time we got home. He was mad but he did calm himself down. And he did so in a manner that was a tremendous improvement over previous disappointments. He grumbled and he was owly with us but he did not strike out at anyone. He did no destruction and he eventually got himself calmed down to the point that he was able to enjoy swimming and a funny movie in the evening.

I think we ended on that high note.

You can ground me if you want to....

2009-05-21T17:06:00.002-05:00

If I had not been so STEAMING mad, these words coming out of my 12 year old's mouth would have made me laugh until my sides ached. In the moment however, they only made me more angry.

Oh you are grounded, young lady. Count on it.

"For how long?"

I haven't figured that out yet. I'm still to mad to think straight but I will let you know.

I don't know if I have ever mentioned my alter ego, Yolanda on my blog before. She started out as a joke when I had a land-line and I asked to have my number unpublished. My phone number would show up on caller ID's as "Yolanda..." somebody. My Mom started calling me Yolanda and we would giggle. Then my friend KMB told me about his hulk moments with his kids. I believe he told me that his kids were probably wondering if he had turned back into Bruce Banner yet. I thought that was hilarious. So, then we started looking up the She-hulk but she apparently stayed in her green hulk form and became more of a lawyer type for the justice league. So, my alter ego Yolanda was born. When my kids get me really mad, and it takes a lot, Yolanda comes to visit with her foot a stompin' and her gum a snappin' and her loud voice telling the children, "Oh no you di'int..."

Yolanda came over last night. The living room becomes a real sore spot for me. And I had reached my threshold of Mess Tolerance. I told the kids to start picking up and not one of them looked me in the eye or stopped what they were doing. When I mentioned this, Princess said, "I am listening, Mom"

Well, it does not seem like it. You are not looking at me. You are not moving in a direction that would show me you have any intention of doing what I ask. Your brothers are continuing to play their video game. Nobody is moving. Therefore, no one is listening.

"But I AM listening."

Ding dong....Yolanda walks in and takes charge. Feet are scrambling, arms are flying and butts are moving. However, my kids have this tendency to "disappear" upstairs or into the bathroom for long periods of time. I called them on that and got nothing but flak for it. Flak and a whole lot of attitude.

The boys were busy cleaning under Yolanda's watchful eye and foot tapping. But Princess disappeared. Yolanda called up. No answer. She called again. Nothing. At this point, I went upstairs for the first time since I left for work.

When I got up there, I screamed. There was laundry, clean and dirty spread all over the floor in the hall and the boys room. Upturned laundry baskets all over the place and the door to Princess and my room was shut tight.

"Giiiiirrrrrrrrlllll....You better open that door right now... And answer me."

Nothing. I opened the door and there is Princess laying face down on MY bed. Ignoring me.

"I have been calling you over and over. You have not answered. Get up NOW."

She refused again.

"Get up NOW."

She stood up and said, "I'm tired of the boys being mean to me. You can ground me if you want to."

"We have another issue here. Right now, the issue is not your brothers being mean. The issue is your obedience. You were told, as was everyone else, that everyone works on the living room until it is done. I have called you and called you and you have ignored me. This is a big problem. And yes, you are grounded. But you still have to go down stairs and clean up the living room."

She muttered something about things not being fair and walked out of the room. Yolanda marched down after her.

"No one says a word about things being unfair. Do you understand me? This is not about fairness. You are talking to the wrong person about what is fair and what is not fair. Life is not ever going to be completely fair. You have to learn to deal with things the way they are. So, each one of you will get this living room clean. I will be sorting through the tornado that blew through upstairs and I don't want to hear an argument, a peep or anything remotely related to a squeak about who is doing what or not...DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

My living room is clean. For now. It took me an hour to sort through the laundry mess upstairs. Yolanda left until she is needed again. Princess will be grounded. I need to come up with a fair amount for her sauciness and disobedience.

Another candle on the cake...

2009-05-19T22:34:00.002-05:00

I don't recommend lighting 38 candles. Not without warning the fire department in advance and taking all other proper precautions. All kidding aside, I do not dread this birthday. Even with the supposedly dreaded BIG 4-0 looming around the corner. I have earned every hour, day, week and month of this year. The laugh lines emerging around my eyes...they are from laughing. I have very few frown lines because I don't frown for long. I have had a tough year but looking back, I see that it is just part of my journey. And for that, I feel like celebrating!

What I have learned between the year of 37 and 38:

1. Life is unpredictable. Tornadoes can blow through your neighborhood. You can watch a client go through the devastation of losing everything in a house fire. The government can garnish your wages for a tax issue that turns out to be a mistake and while the money will be refunded...it is not returned as quickly as it was taken.

My take home lessons from these observations: Get renter's insurance. Improve my filing and save everything financial. Don't give up, even if you are in the wrong, ask the questions and get the answers. You may be surprised!

2. Children really change a lot in a year. Last summer, I could not trust my kids to be alone for more than an hour tops and even then they managed to find trouble. This lead to a couple visits from the Sheriff's department, a couple phone calls from Social Services and a tiny blurb about an escapade on the roof in the newspaper. Throughout the year, each of my children has shown increased maturity. Princess does an excellent job keeping track of Peanut. She is also learning how to cook and can make simple dinners or lunches. With the exception of Peanut, the kids can manage being home if they are sick without a Hover Mother and they know they can reach me by cell or text.

My take home lessons from these experiences: Babysitting class for Princess. Clear rules about where the kids can and cannot play. Safety rules like keeping the doors locked and the garage shut, don't answer the door and sticking together when they do play outside. I also talked a lot about how we are a family and we are to look out for each other because that is what families do. A big key is COMMUNICATION.

3. Managing a family is hard. Duh. So, not only do I have my job but now I have children in elementary and middle school. There are school parties, youth group activities, projects, projects and more projects. Add in to that basketball practice and games, baseball practice and games, concerts and conferences, and lots and lots of doctor appointments.

Take home lesson: Calendar!! We have also learned that we can't say yes to everything and sometimes we have to choose.

4. Money is a tool but without good management skills, it is a monster.

Take home lesson: seek wise counsel. Diligence, patience and hard work.

5. Enjoy the sunshine, the laughter and embrace the silly now and then.

Saturday Stuff

2009-05-16T16:49:00.002-05:00

I love Saturdays. It is probably my favorite day of the week. Even if I spend a bit of time doing my least favorite activities revolving around housework, I still enjoy Saturday.

Today, I went to my Weight Watcher's meeting and decided that my number is not moving in the right direction. I need to get myself excited again. My daughter wants to go on walks with me. So, I decided that when I got home, we would take a walk. I did not factor in that it was so cold! However, that did not deter us. My now 8 year old PH, had a new razor scooter that he wanted to try out. BB grabbed his bike, Princess pulled Peanut in the wagon and we walked. I grabbed my camera, just in case I found photo worthy opportunities. With kids, I always do.

We walked over towards this area that has these drainage ponds. BB told me he saw a fish and thought it was a Muskie. I laughed and then told him that the water is not deep enough for Muskie but there may be Crappies or Bullhead's in there.

I really enjoyed watching the kids running back and forth between two ponds that are connected by two large concrete pipes. They figured out these make excellent communication devices so one would lie down at one end and then another would lie down at the other and they would call back and forth or sing a song to each other. Then PH got the idea of spitting into the water and running back to watch it come out the other side.

My favorite moment was when BB, with his hood pulled around his face, his cheeks rosy from the wind, smiling broadly, said, "This is starting out to be a really good day."

Some days, I look at him, remembering back just 6 months ago when he was pitching fits, hitting me, destroying lamps, and I can hardly believe this is the same boy. Something has change in him. I don't know what it is. I don't know when it happened but this child is happy. And it is fantastic! To see this, it makes everything worth it. We both learned a lot and have grown and changed.

Yesterday, it was PH's 8th birthday and we were driving over to Grandma's for a party. The kids were excited and were bouncing, literally, out of their seats. I was telling them all to buckle up and BB starts to repeat everything I say. I said, "I don't need a chorus."

BB suddenly breaks into song, "Happy...birthday....happy...happy...birthday...." It was so cute, I started laughing silently and he says, "Mom, why are you bouncing?"

At that point, I just burst out laughing. The tension was broken. That's my funny, bright boy.

Amazed...

2009-05-13T09:19:00.002-05:00

Last summer, I was struggling with having my 3 boys in one room. It was a constant battle every night to get them to settle down. I was exhausted because I did not get to bed before midnight for months. I don't remember exactly when the idea came to me, it was truly a God-inspired insight, but one night I had had enough and I suggested to BB that he just go sleep on the couch. Almost immediately, everyone fell asleep. So, he did it again the next night and again everyone fell asleep. I was able to get to bed around 10. This went on for over a week. I noticed a remarkable change in everyone.

So, I discussed it with BB and we decided that he could continue to sleep on the couch as long as he wants to. The livingroom, at night, would essentially be his bedroom. It was not ideal. I had to give up that space and the area so that I could relax there as well but it was worth it for the peace of mind, and the rest I was able to get.

BB and I discussed that he would always have the option to sleep in his own bed. I even put in a loft for him. He tried it one night but then went back down to the couch.

This week, he has started sleeping his own bed, of his own volition. I tried not to make it a big deal but I did ask him this morning why he was sleeping up there. He just kind of shrugged. I smiled at him and said, "It's comfortable up there, isn't it? Maybe we can put the sheets back on and make it real cozy." He smiled at me.

Something is changing in that boy and I like it alot.

Sometimes...you just gotta let go

2009-05-07T20:27:00.002-05:00

It happened one day when I watched BB swing across the monkey bars and then he started climbing across the top. I wanted to jump out of my chair and tell him, "Get down before you fall and get hurt..." and I imagined him falling on his face, blood pouring out of numerous scrapes and white bones poking out of every limb.

It took everything I had within me to sit in my chair and cheer, "Good job, BB! Way to go! Look at you!!"

I know that if I had told him he could get hurt and then demanded he get down, he would have done one of two things: climbed back down, pouting and feeling embarrassed perhaps he would be more cautious and fearful the next time or he could have continued on as he was with more determination and next time upping the ante, doing more and more outrageous stunts just to prove me wrong.

I had to let go. I had to let him try. He finished climbing across the top of the monkey bars that day. He did it many more times that summer. He never fell. He never did fall or even so much as break open a blister. And the grin on his face told me he was proud of his accomplishment.

It's happened at other times too and with the other kids. They each learned how to ride a bike. I left the training wheels on until I saw confidence growing and the the training wheels were not actually touching the ground any longer and then I took them off. BB hopped on his bike, wobbled for a bit and the took off like a rocket. He fell often, usually when trying to stop and would comment, "Wow! I'm biking but I think I need to work some more on my landing!"

Princess could not be left behind, so she saw BB riding and she asked me to take her trainers off too. Next thing I knew, she was riding up and down the street with a grin on her face. I never did the "hold on to the back of the bike and some times let go..." thing. But I had emotionally hands on the back of that bike. I bit my tongue and the inside of my cheek as I watched them round the curves and almost wipe out. I cried the first time one of them scraped up their knee. But I learned to let go. They learned to be confident and try things.

Today was another opportunity for me to let go. The funny thing is that I did not plan it. Maybe that is the best way. On Thursdays, I work until 7pm. Princess babysits Peanut from 5:30 until 7:30. She is learning to cook so she also makes her brothers dinner. Sometimes.

I got home tonight and there was not a kid to be found. I did start to panic a little but then I saw that Princess wrote a note:

"Went to sience fair at boys school from 6pm to 8pm We rode bikes. "

The spelling made me laugh.

Then I looked around the kitchen and saw the remnants of dinner. And I saw the cell phone plugged in. I put the pieces together and knew that she had tried to call me while I was in a meeting but had not left me a message. We will work on that. But she left me a note. She told me where they were and when they would be back. She made dinner and they were all together.

I fought the urge to drive over to the school and chew them out. Obviously this was something they felt was important. I needed to let go.

And they all came back. They were happy. They were safe.

I did feel a bit like a chump when I realized that this was THE Science and Arts Fair...and I should have gone. I just did not know. And selfishly, I was enjoying the peace and quiet.

For next time, I do want her to leave me a message on my voicemail and we need to make sure that cell phone is charged AND turned on.

A difference between boys and girls...

2009-05-05T08:51:00.002-05:00

I should have known. Boys are very different from girls. I don't buy into the whole "Nature vs. Nurture" debate. My boys came out of the womb acting like boys and my daughter came out acting very much like a girl, with the exception of her love for matchbox cars but note that she would line them up in long lines while wearing her prettiest, girliest dress.

I think I mentioned before that my friend gave me the idea of using a notebook as a way to keep the communication channels open between my Tween daughter and I. She and I bot love it. We have a secret way of letting each other know that we have written each other a note. She gets the chance to express some of her hurts and pains and I get to peer into her heart and try to understand what life feels like for her right now and then encourage her.

My 10 year old is struggling with the area of communication as well. He does not always do well handling feelings. He has made great improvement and I have been making a point of telling him the things I am seeing. But I thought perhaps this secret notebook would be a good idea for him too. He was very receptive to the idea. So, I showed him the notebook I bought and asked him to give me an idea about where we could put it so that we would both know how to find it.

He did say, and I was astounded that he came up with this,"Well, I don't know what would be a good place because I am not so good at remembering where I put things." This is very insightful for him. This is one of his struggles. I think having a spot for him to go to for this notebook will be beneficial in developing this skill. A bonus! However, he did locate a good spot that is visible yet not a place that others in the house will necessarily thing to dig around in.

He took the notebook and immediately wrote me a note. I really had to giggle. I will not make it a habit of sharing what he writes because that will violate the rule about privacy but he did not write anything deeply personal. Instead, he wrote a commercial plug that went something like this:

Dear Mom,

I need to renew the Lego magazine. This is the last issue. I really love this magazine. But you know that what I really want is the Lego Brickmaster magazine. You know the one that also sends out special lego kits. I got one for my birthday and it was great.

Love,
BB

Dear BB,

I know you love that magazine and have read it cover to cover several times each time you get an issue in the mail. We can certainly renew it. How much does the Brickmaster cost?

Love,
Mom

Dear Mom,

Don't you think that it would be well worth $39.95 for a year's worth of not only the magazine but also the lego kits. This is a special price and a value of over $70!!!! I would really love this. Would you help me get this?

Love,
BB

I laughed so hard when I read this. He is so funny. It is making me think that there is perhaps some room to negotiate here and figure out a way to work with him so that he can earn this.

The difference between boys and girls...no talk about feelings or how the day went or what frustrated him or any lines like his sister writes "Why is growing up so hard?"...but a sale's pitch!

Speaking only for myself

2009-05-01T15:06:00.003-05:00

I can't speak for "all" single parents...just me. But today, I feel extremely taken for granted. It could be that I am stressed and things are piling up on top of me and more things are just "getting to me" and irritating me. And perhaps I am expecting too much from my children. It would be nice for them to "Rise up and call me blessed" now and then and even say "Thanks for making my lunch every day. You do a really great job." As opposed to the typical, "How come I don't get ....(Insert junk food items)like so and so?"

Sometimes it would be really nice to have someone, a grown up someone, around to help pick up the slack a little. This sounds really whiny. I just feel tired and worn out from doing the same thing, day after day... same battles, same arguments, same lectures and very little change.

In fact, this morning, I lost it. I went downstairs to find that 3 of my children were sleeping in the livingroom and that made me mad because I had told two of them who know they are supposed to sleep upstairs that they are not to sneak downstairs. The living room, at night, is essentially BB's bedroom. Then as I am scrambling to get Princess's lunch together, she says from the chair, "Mom, what time is it?"

Excuse me?!? Get up and look at the clock...I'm busy making your lunch. And while you are at it, grab the cheese and make your sandwich.

"But where are the bags?"

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

This is the same daughter who is getting cooking lessons from my friend April and is learning how to use knives to chop onions, how to make a tasty white sauce and how to cook rice and she can't find the lunch bags?

The kitchen is a mess. The living room is a mess. Someone ate my yogurt again, after I tied it up in a plastic bag, put it in a box, tucked it in the back of the fridge behind the potatos. And suddenly "Nobody" knows who ate it. BB, who has a tendency to speak without thinking says to me, "Well, if you would have given us breakfast, then we would not have to eat the yogurt."

What?!? Tell me you did NOT just say that to me? I pay Jenny to watch you in the morning and give you breakfast. What you have done by eating the yogurt is eaten MY breakfast and I bought enough to last until next payday and now there is not enough. If you do not eat breakfast, how is that my fault?

Then he denied he said it. The fire is stoking and starting to blaze. I'm not proud of this. But I got really mad. And then BB covers his head with a blanket.

Look at me when I am talking to you.

"I've already heard this before."

Apparently, you have not heard it enough because you still don't do what I ask you to do and keep doing what I tell you not to do. So, listen again. And when you talk to me like that, so rudely, I get so frustrated I would like to throw a pillow at you.

He looked up at me and blinked in disbelief.

I did not say I would. I only said that is what I feel like doing. There is a difference. But that is how angry and hurt I am right now by your attitude and behavior.

I then went upstairs to take a shower and I cried through the whole thing. I'm just tired. My life is hard. Some days, it just gets to me. Today was one of those days. And I feel very alone in moments like this. I try to be angry with my ex-husband and make it all his fault for putting me in this position. But the reality is that even when I was married, I was alone. I was still essentially carrying the burden of parenting by myself. I just sometimes had another adult in the room. It is not fair. It stinks. But that is the way it is. I think it is OK to acknowledge those feelings now and then...to look at them, recognize that they are there and then put them away again knowing it does not change anything. But the feelings are real. The hurt is real. Injustice is real. So, I visit that spot sometimes but I don't unroll my sleeping bag and sleep there.

That is the day I am having. I'm looking at the unfairness in my life. I admit it stinks. I wish it was different. I pray that it will be someday. And I feel sad, grieve a little and then pack my things and get out of there.

Updates and other matters

2009-04-28T19:14:00.002-05:00

We are currently a cable free but fully digital TV family. My kids did lament that we do not have any cartoon channels. I, however, am not lamenting. I am happy to save money on cable and I also realized that there were really only a handfull of channels that I watch on a regular basis, so why pay for all those other ones that I don't watch. It does not make sense. And my kids will learn to live without Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network.

PH's health is greatly improved. His personality has returned. I knew he had turned a corner when he started getting into trouble and being naughty again. I did not miss that so much but I had missed the other facets of him like his energy, infectious and musical laughter and funny jokes. He has another doctor appointment this week, so I am curious to see how much more weight he has gained since the last one.

BB has made me quite proud with his improvements too. He has a big project he is working on. He had to pick one state to research and had all sorts of things to do around that state. I was floored when he told me that he wanted to get his "State Float" done early. This is so unusual for him. He is usually pushing the limits and deadlines. It would not be unheard of for him to tell me that something huge is due in two days and then we are scrambling to get it done. It really was HUGE for him to want to get it done early and then he did the work himself with the exception of some creative input from me.

Peanut is sounding out words and is on the verge of reading. He is doing it so much that BB told him, "Stop sounding things out!" I, on the other hand, am enjoying listening to him sound out, "kuh kuh kuh- ihhh ihhh ihhh-du du...KID!!"

Princess is feeling the stress of much homework, impending deadlines and pre-teen angst of having too many younger brothers. She is tired and a little crabby these days. Tonight, she sat in the kitchen, staring at the door of the fridge, unable to get started on anything because it was all too much. And then she continued to grow agitated the PH and Peanut kept running in and out of the house, breaking her concentration.

The fun never ends. I'm anxious for school to be out. We all need a break.

Playstation Predicament Continuing Saga

2009-04-24T18:36:00.002-05:00

I got a call from my oldest son yesterday. He informed me that the Playstation was now working but the TV was not. And according to him, he had tried everything. And then his voice became completely unintelligible because he could not possibly wait the hour or so until I was going to get home.

He was right. The TV does not work. I don't know what happened to it. Electronics baffle me. I can use them but I don't program them, take them apart to understand the inner workings or anything else. And quite frankly, I don't care to. There are other people in this world who like that sort of thing and I am perfectly content to find them.

I moved the upstairs TV back down and all evening the kids said, "I am just not used to the mini-TV." It's a 20". How is that mini? They are funny. I was sad to move that TV because I had become sort of accustomed to having a TV upstairs in my little corner where I have my computer and my scrapbooking stuff. So, I started planning that perhaps with potential birthday gifts coming up in the next month, I should look at replacing it.

However, today, my youngest sister reminded me that my parents recently got a new TV and now had an extra one that they were no longer using and that perhaps this would be a good one to use for the video games and to watch movies on. Absolutely brilliant! I called my Dad to see if they still had it, and if so, could I take it off their hands? The answers to both questions was Yes!!

And I can continue my pattern of staying behind the crowd, waving at the technology bandwagon as it goes by, catching on to things much later when the kinks and bugs are worked out and the prices come down. I'm not a bleeding-edge kind of gal.

The Plight of the Pitiful Playstation

2009-04-23T16:00:00.002-05:00

It was bound to happen sooner or later. I warned them. I scolded even.

Do not bring beverage cups into the living room.
Do not set cups of liquid on the floor.
Keep the Playstation off the floor.
Keep your video games in their cases.

And repeat. Repeat. Repeat. ad nauseum.

This week it did.

I was upstairs when I heard a roar followed by a yell. Then weeping and gnashing of teeth. And then BB screamed, "Peanut, I will NEVER speak to you EVER again."

A certain boy, the smallest of the 3, knocked over the forbidden cup of water, splashing it into the very end of the playstation that would be the worst end to get water splashed into. And now the PS2 no longer works. The eldest two boys have tried every day, to see if the electronics have dried out and function will return to their machine.

BB declared, "Well, if it does not work by Friday, then it will never work again." He said it with such conviction, as if he has had previous experience.

Yesterday, he said, "Mom, I am reading here in the Playstation manual that the PS2 should NEVER be submerged in water."

I have to chuckle silently in my head. They are having a hard time with this. I was afraid they would go into convulsions from their video game withdrawal. Instead, they adapted and have gone over to the babysitter's every afternoon to play on her Playstation until I get off work.

At least it is time limited.

This morning, PH said to me, "Mom, what are we going to do tonight when we have to go home from Jenny's and we are waiting for you to come home?"

Well, the weather is going to be gorgeous. You can play outside. Go to the park. Draw pictures. Play with your legos. Watch a movie on the upstairs DVD player.

I loved his answer, "I think that I will spend some time reading my Bible. I'm already on page 6."

How can I argue with that?

All you ever say...

2009-04-17T16:41:00.002-05:00

PH started saying this one day last week, "Mom, all you ever say to us is 'Pick up the living room'. "

Ha ha. Very funny.

Maybe it's a little true. I do seem to say it an awful lot lately. I think it is because this is becoming my Biggest Pet Peeve. Ever. If it was just a little untidiness, I could handle it. But it isn't. Daily, and I am not taking creative liberties of exaggeration here, I find wrappers, crusts of bread, icky cups of sour, curdled milk, lego's, blankets, pillows, Playstation 2 games and dirty socks strewn about. If these things are not strewn about, then they are shoved between the couch and love seat on top of my end table. It is enough to drive me completely out of my mind.

Wouldn't you think it would be easier to just carry your trash to the garbage can that is 3 feet away? Wouldn't it be easier to carry your dishes (which are NOT supposed to be in the living room anyway) into the kitchen rather than setting them where ever? Wouldn't you get tired of being scolded every day for the same thing?

I would be. But then, I am a girl. I don't like being scolded. I don't like voices being raised. When voices raise, I panic and start to cry and get very upset and I will do anything to make things right again. My daughter is the same way.

My boys are not. They are from a different planet. And apparently on that planet, it's perfectly OK to be pigs. Well, welcome to earth and more specifically Tulip's house...It's not OK to be pigs. And until they start picking up their messes all they will hear me say is "Pick up the living room...throw away your garbage...put your dishes in the sink...quit eating in the living room...take your dirty, stinky socks up to the laundry...and wash your hands...Flush the toilet..."

Get used to it.

More Unsolved Mysteries

2009-04-16T15:43:00.002-05:00

Why is there a ziplock bag of baby carrots in my freezer?
I did not place them there, nor would I do so. Peanut was "feeding" carrots to his new stuffed bunny "Checkers"...I suspect he wanted to try Carrot-pops.

Writing on the wall:
In the garage, one day the word "poop" appeared in 2 foot letters and yellow chalk. Another wall showcases the word "idiot". I'm sure that No One Knows who did it.
Someone drew a little cartoon scene on the wall just above the baseboards, behind the couch. That takes talent and serious ambition or a strong desire to NOT get caught.
I do know that BB wrote "I hate you" on the wall last fall when he was in one of his funks and really, mad at me. I figured it was some sort of progress from the day he wrote a note to Grandma and told her "I hat you". His spelling has improved.

Rubber lizards on my ceiling. I was finally able to change the lightbulb in my ceiling light at the peak of the vault and the critters were removed. However, I kind of miss them. There were up there for a year. I will console myself with the little rubber man that is stuck on the wall in my dining room.

I think it is sort of like fingerprints on windows... they are reminders that children live here but will soon grow up all too fast. For now, I am OK with these mysteries. One day, they will be painted over. But for now, they speak to me of childhood.

Blessings

2009-04-13T18:39:00.002-05:00

I should never be surprised by miracles. My life has been full of miracles. Yet, somehow, when they come, I am always caught off guard and sit back stunned and think to myself, "The Lord did it again...He surprised me, He supplied my needs."

For example, I have a wedding I am attending in a few weeks. I don't have the money to buy a new dress but I have a lovely spring suit I bought a few years ago that I have only worn once or twice. The only thing I need is some sort of a blouse or camisole to go under the jacket, since I did tell one of my friends that I am not prepared to "showcase the girls". I'm far too modest. That is a good thing.

On Saturday, my mom was cleaning out her closet and showed a few things to me that I could have if they fit. I did find some satisfaction in the knowledge that things were too big for me. However, she did have one sleeveless, cream colored blouse that would go perfectly with my suit. And it fit. Now I don't need a blouse.

I am going through this Crown Financial class through my church and on Saturday is my weekly class. We do prayer requests every week and pray for each other through the week. Part of our preparation is to write out our prayer requests before we come. My brakes were just starting to make funny noises. I tried topping off the fluid but the noise was still present. So, I brought this up because I do not have the money to pay for the brakes.

Today, I am sitting outside a house where two men from my class are working on my van and fixing my brakes. One side of one brake was grinding shiny metal to metal.

I am so blessed.

Life with a Pre-teen...The Saga Begins

2009-04-12T18:57:00.002-05:00

And so does the drama. Which, according to my family, drama is something my dear daughter comes by honestly. I try to huff and be offended but it's true. I was a teenage drama queen. I created my fair share of Angry scenes and Important Declarations about just how dorky and out of touch my family was and how they could not possibly know anything about how I was feeling...In. This. Very. Moment.

Now that I am a mother of a 12 year old, and a little more experienced with life, I know that my parents were not quite the dorks I thought they were, nor were they that unfamiliar with how things in my life were changing. I standing in that place myself. At this present moment, my kids think I'm pretty OK. But my daughter is listening to what I say and is telling me that I embarrass her. And I learned this weekend, I can also make her very hurt and angry.

The incident that sparked this particular revelation revolved around getting our bedroom clean. It was to the point where I could not tolerate the clutter and the creeping mess any longer. This was going to be taken care of this weekend. I told her of my plan on Friday night. I reminded her on Saturday morning and even gave her fair warning about when I was going to be ready to get started. I asked her to come up with me and I gave her a job to start with while I put some laundry away because I needed the laundry baskets...

She did that job and did it well. And then disappeared. I saw her and her brother playing in the woods. I worked on my area of the room. I put away all my clean clothes, cleaned out the junk that seems to infiltrate the crevices and open spaces under my bed, night stand and the edge of my dresser. I even pulled off my sheets and flipped my mattress.

After lunch, I told her she needed to come back up and help. She wandered up and again stayed for only a few minutes. I decided I would provide us some entertainment so I even found a way to turn the upstairs TV so that it would face our room. I went down to find her, and she had fallen asleep. Apparently, she had been a participant in the overnight video game party with her brothers after all. So, I let her sleep and determined that if she was not going to participate in this clean and purge event, that was to her loss. She had had an opportunity several weeks prior to clean up her mess, organize, set some precious things aside and all she did was shove things around. This was getting done today.

I worked hard. I pulled everything out from under her lofted bed and sorted and organized. I put some of the toys and items she never plays with anymore, but I dare not throw, and put them in the storage container. Anything that looked broken or like crumpled up trash, I tossed. I wound up with one huge lawn bag full of garbage and several smaller bags full. When it was all done, I was very pleased with how it looked. She can sit under her bed and pull books out of the little cubbies she has under there. You can see her pink fuzzy rug again.

I woke her up and she was not happy about that because she was still tired. But I did not want her sleeping the entire day away or she would have trouble sleeping at night. I told her to go and check out our room.

I proceeded to get dinner ready and get ready for a class I attend on Saturday nights. She was pouting about something one of her brothers did and I told her to leave the table until she could join us with a more appropriate attitude. She never came back down.

When I went upstairs to finish getting ready, she was in our room and I asked her what she thought. She yelled at me, "You threw away things I was saving. And I don't know what to do with this stuff YOU put on my bed."

Whoa, girl. Them's fightin' words.

For your information, daughter, I spent my entire day cleaning this room. I did not throw everything away. Some things are put up. I asked and asked you to come up and work with me but you kept disappearing and I was not going to wait for you. The fact of the matter is that I have been asking your for a long time to get this clutter under control and you have not. You have had fair warning that this would happen. And honestly, if I see your part of our room get like this again, I will do the same thing again. So, you need to learn to take better care of your stuff and put it away so that it is clear it is something sentimental but shoving papers under your bed and my bed is not showing me these are things you care about.

At this point, she quit looking at me and sat, stewing under her bed, ignoring me. Then she handed me a note, written in purple crayon:

"Dear Mom
How would you like it if someone came in and threw out your dreams and Ideas for when you want a good job and that person had nothing. no job No house and no life. Because every thing that I had built from scratch and that you threw away was my chance of life and you threw my life away -Princess"

Honestly, when she handed me the note, I had to fight off a giggle. She was very sincere and earnest. I felt awful in giggling. She was just so cute. And so dramatic.

I was bothered by her feeling so hurt. But at the same time, I also figured I was teaching her a tough lesson. I remember my own mom teaching me hard lessons too...especially about possessions and room cleaning. I don't think my mom ever went through and tossed things but I do remember a few Saturdays when she went through the room I shared with my sisters and pulled out everything we had been stuffing into crevices, corners and closets and threw it into the center of the room. Our job was to put everything away and we could not come out until we finished.

I do think that my parents would get rid of things we left out and did not put away. As I thought about it, I do not think I was unreasonable or out of line. I did need to deal with the hurt she was feeling about it. So maybe my method was harsher than I intended. She is a sensitive girl. My Mom told me today, when I described it to her, that it is not that what I did was wrong or out of line but perhaps that these were things she just did not want to let go of and was not mentally prepared to do so yet.

I also talked with my friend Elizabeth ( Thanks :-)!) and she suggested that I start a shared journal with Princess. Then she and I can continue to communicate privately and keep that door open. Plus she will have the journal for as long as she wants it. I think this is an excellent idea. I talked to Princess about it and she really liked the idea. So, I found a notebook that I had not started using. I decorated the cover and made it girly and we designated a special drawer for it.

I'm keeping the purple note too.

An interesting day at work

2009-04-06T20:12:00.002-05:00

Once upon a time, I was an Art major. I was actually an elementary Art teacher for 2 years. When I had my student teaching experience in my senior year, it dawned on me that this was not really what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. However, I had one semester to go, so I finished. I taught for one year in a small school in Pine River, MN. And then I taught one year in St. Louis, Missouri. Vastly different experiences. But neither experience endeared me to teaching as a career. I learned I was pregnant at the end of the year in St. Louis and discussed the possibility of full time motherhood with my husband. We agreed that we would make it work. I finished my teaching career by teaching a 6 week session of summer school and had an absolute blast. I worked with a great principal who was very validating of everything I did. I worked with two small groups of children for 2 hours each per day. This enabled me to do some really fun projects. I felt like I ended my teaching career on a high note. I left that career behind and decided that art would now be for me.

God is funny. I also think that He is the ultimate recycler. Nothing is wasted. I sat with a client today and we discussed her most recent watercolor endeavor. She asked me to tell her what was wrong with her painting. I paused for a moment before I said anything because I worried about whether this was really therapeutic. But she and I have developed a relationship over the last 9 months or so and she really wanted to know. So, I did tell her a few things I saw and then I gave her a few ideas about how she could fix it. We had a good discussion about drawing and painting and she showed me the next drawing she wants to do.

This is a woman who has been severely battered and now has a severe TBI. She decided that she was going to learn to draw because she loves horses and she needs to prove to herself that she can learn something new again. She is pleased with herself and her progress with drawing. I admire her commitment and dedication to her craft. She has put hours of drawing in every day. And she keeps trying. Because of this desire to draw and get good, she has gotten herself out of the house and out to the library for drawing books. Her TBI affects her ability to process information so driving and new places are very overwhelming. She also decided that she needed drawing supplies so she took on a challenge of getting herself to Michael's. The first time she went, she wound up in Minneapolis but even that did not defeat her because she tried again and now she is not scared anymore.

This is therapy. And I hope that by working with me, she is finding support and encouragement for trying something new and out of her comfort zone. And I believe that God is taking a skill set that I have and showing me a new way to use it.

After that appointment, I had to drive out to a foster care provider. My co-workers have told me stories about this place...how there are lots of animals and "killer turkeys" wandering about and driveway that is treacherous on a good day, and practically impassable on bad days. I saw the turkeys but they stayed clear of me. What surprised me were the peacocks. I did not know people could keep peacocks as pets. They were beautiful.

Inside the house, I was greeted by 5 dogs. A couple were those little mini-greyhounds or Whippets and then a grey-hound and some other stocky dog. The greyhound wanted to be my buddy and escort me around the house. The stocky dog wanted to run me out of town. Apparently, there are also ferrets in the house but I did not see those.

I never know what the day is going to hold.

One question I hear repeatedly is "Aren't you scared to go and meet mentally ill people in the community?" The answer is "No". I have never been scared of a client. I have been in tense situations with client's who were very sick and needed to taken to the hospital. But I was never afraid. The people that I have been scared of were not clients.

I like this unknown factor about my job. I set my own schedule and make my own appointments but there is always the chance that things will change and something will come up. There are components in my work week that are predictable. Tuesday is Meeting Day. I always have a team meeting every Tuesday afternoon from 2:30 to 4:00pm. But there is also a monthly Unit meeting on the 2nd Tuesday of the month. A therapy consult meeting every other Tuesday at noon. And then a Prepetition/Committment meeting on the last Tuesday of the month. It gets really crazy when 3 of those fall on the same Tuesday. It's a lot of chair time and I have been known to doodle in order to keep myself alert and paying attention.

Some days, I am out on appointments most of the day. Some days, I am at my desk doing paperwork and researching things for presentations or co-worker's questions or to satisfy my own curiosity. And then some days, I just spin in my chair, counting down the hours til quitting time. I work too fast. I think that is my problem. It does not take me long to write my treatment plans or case notes. I am too efficient.

Stuff

2009-04-02T19:32:00.002-06:00

I was reading another blog and got this idea. She asked what we women keep in our purses. I have a friend that I have joked with about the difference between men and women and our ability to carry various necessary items. I do believe that men are at a disadvantage. I sent him a picture of a model carrying a "man bag" but he told me he did not think he could "pull off the look". Perhaps in the age of laptop computers, men are going to gain some ground in this disparity, as my friend pointed out when he noted that "you can fit a lot of Happy Meal toys in a laptop bag".

I left my purse at work one day and really felt it's loss. It is like an extension of myself. I carry important items that would otherwise tumble around and get lost. But my shoulder is also used to it's weight and I am used to grabbing it when I head out the door. However, since I now have this laptop and big bag to take with me daily, I realized that it is easy for me to overlook my purse since the laptop bag is taking it's place on my shoulder.

So, I am going to let you in on the secret world of my purse. These are my "essentials". I need to have them with me every day. I may not always use them but they are in a way like having jumper cables in the trunk... you never know when you are going to need them. So, you must be prepared:

--wallet which includes my checkbook and various forms of plastic identification, stamp cards for free meals or hair cuts, insurance cards and car insurance.
--car keys when I am out but when I am home, my car keys have to hang on their hook or I will not know what to do!
--lip balm, several tubes
--an assortment of pens and pencils
--a small notebook
--my family calendar
--a pack of gum (if my kids have not found it)
--loose change is always floating free on the bottom
--paper clips too
--shopping lists
--reciepts
--bills I need to pay or mail
--stamps
--a couple extra envelopes

It's weird. When I read the other blog, I realized that the contents of my purse are not that unusual. The basics are usually the same. It just struck me funny that these items are things I carry with me every where, into every store, gas station, building and often bathrooms I go into even though I generally don't need any of those things in any of those locations.

Who knows, I may be in some isolated locale and be in need of a stamp, a paper clip and a quarter. In that case, I am ready. Like a female MacGuiver.

More from the Village Idiot

2009-03-31T18:48:00.003-06:00

I remembered some other things that happened last week, firmly establishing my title as the Village Idiot of Hugo.

--Stood by my van, hitting the button to open up my trunk and open up the doors...but they would not obey the fob...and as I stood there befuddled...I looked around and noticed that another van had a trunk opening...and I looked at the one I was standing by and realized, "Hey, this is not my van...it's a Town & Country". I drive a Dodge Grand Caravan. If only I had been alone...but alas...I had my daughter with me and she found it incredibly funny.

--Woke up and started getting ready for work. I looked at the clock and called downstairs to tell my daughter to get ready to head out when BB told me that she had already left. I commented that this was really early. BB said she had been gone for quite a while. Still puzzled, I looked at the clock, thinking it was 6:45 am. But when I looked at the clock, I realized it as 7:45 am! I stood there in my bathrobe, hair soaking wet with panic setting in...I now had to finish getting ready as well as wake up two sleeping boys, make lunches and head to work. Thankfully, I managed to only be 15 minutes late.

--(This did not happen last week but it's so funny, I have to share it). I came out of the gas station and climbed into my van. But as I put my key in the ignition, I noticed that the van looked very clean and the interior looked very...tan...and then I realized that I had climbed into the wrong van...As my face turned several shades of beet red, I looked over at the van I climbed into and realized it wasn't even black...It was a green van.

My week as the Village Idiot (of Hugo)

2009-03-30T20:55:00.003-06:00

I can't always pick on my kids. Sure, they do silly stuff, dumb stuff...Kid stuff. It's funny. It's annoying or aggrivating and sometimes, downright mystifying. But they come by it honestly because I have had one of those weeks where a whole lot of little things happened and I sat back feeling like I was a complete nincompoop and the village idiot.

In the space of one week, the following is a true account:

--I locked my carkeys in my running van...sitting in my own garage. Thankfully, I had a spare key. Lesson learned: don't push the buttons on your key fob when deciding to start your car...and check to see you did not accidentally lock the doors.

--Wore the wrong shoes to work...I slipped on my cruddy garage shoes when going out to the garage to get something...and completely forgot to change into my work shoes..the ones that coordinated with my outfit

--Wore navy socks with black pants and black, open backed shoes

--Spilled toothpaste on my shirt 3 out of 5 days

--Spilled taco sauce on my shirt at lunch

--Forgot my purse under my desk at work

--Forgot my lunch twice...one day, it was made and still sitting on the counter when I got home

--Fell asleep in a satelite televised meeting when I was front and center on camera and also sitting next to the presenter

--Walked halfway out to my car without my car keys because they were in my coat and I decided I didn't need my coat at that time.

--Left my cellphone in weird places: buried on my car seat, in the pocket of my other jacket, on my kitchen counter, on my desk

--Lost my mailbox key and haven't been able to get my mail for 4 days

--Walked all over the house in search of my nail starter, yelled at my kids for taking my tools, frantically searched and drove myself crazy trying to find it...only to discover it in my back pocket.

My motto for the week: "Can't brain to day...I has the dumb."

Silly, silly me!

Unsolved Mysteries...

2009-03-30T19:11:00.003-06:00

1. Who ate ALL 32 tubes of Go-gurt just purchased on Friday night and then left the empty box as well as the empty wrappers strewn about the living room?

I may never know but they, and I will include all 4 "they's" in this statement, will not soon get go-gurt again. However, I wonder if I did perhaps buy it more often, the novelty of it would wear off and they would leave it alone. It seems to have worked for cottage cheese. But not so much for raisins, sour cream or shredded cheddar cheese...or pickles. Apparently, these items fall under the category of Fair Game.

2. Who ate 7 of my personal cups of yogurt, and it was for this explicit purpose that I did purchase the children their OWN yogurt in the form of a tube...so they would leave mine alone, and again, left the evidence, spoons and all...in the living room?

I made sure that I explained to each and every person under 5 feet tall and the age of 12 that this batch of yogurt was purchased for MOM alone...I make very few purchases in the realm of food that are only for me but I am trying to eat more healthy and the only thing I like for breakfast that keeps me satisfied until lunch and not gnawing off my own hand at the wrist is a bowl consisting of yogurt, a cut up apple and granola. All I ask is the have my yogurt left alone. Apparently, I shall have to resort to threatening notes and hostile symbols (for the one who is not yet literate) and several more stern lectures.

3. Where is my alarm clock?

I do know the perpetrator of this crime and I know why. I don't claim it makes sense to anyone other than an ADHD 10 year old. He was mad that I gave a little alarm clock to his sister. It was purchased by me, for the purpose of helping the children get off to school on time, but that was before I started bringing them to a sitter in the morning...and thus the alarm clock became merely decor in the living room and my dear daughter was in need of a louder, more abrupt alarm to help her wake up in the morning. However, he saw it and decided he would reclaim it...but when it did not happen... he broke that alarm clock and then hid mine. Thankfully, I did have another spare alarm or I would have had to resort to my cell phone and that would have caused me great anxiety because I cannot smack it and snooze it...It would mess up my morning ritual.

This mystery has been solved. While shredding documents, in an attempt to further organize my life, I pulled the top part off my shredder to discover why it was making the funny noise and continuing to grind when there was no longer paper inside...and low and behold, amidst the shredded confetti, lay my missing alarm clock. I do confess that now that some time has passed, I find this funny. A few weeks ago...not so much.

4. Where do all the pencils go? I just bought a large pack of mechanical and regular pencils and still I get complaints from the children "I can't find a pencil."?

5. Disappearing sweatshirts, jackets, mittens and snow pants... I think there is a Bermuda Triangle type vortex located in the school...it sucks these things in to the kids lockers and bless their little hearts when they try to pull them out of their lockers, they are unable to break them free and then more sweatshirts, mittens and snow pants get pulled in...Occasionally, some manage to break free and wind up washed up in the Lost & Found in the school cafeteria but my kids never seem to find their belongings.

6. Gum. I like to chew gum. I buy it and stash it in obscure pockets in my jacket or purse and my desk drawer at work. Yet somehow, I never seem to get more than a few pieces before I find an empty pack in my hiding spot. Weeks later, I come across a chewed wad somewhere in the house. When I ask about it, "I dunno"..."It wasn't me" and "I would NEVER do that..." is the answer I get. I think I need to get gum wrappers that have flavors like Juicy Tomato and Lima Bean Fresca...then I can hide my good flavor in the pseudo wrappers and perhaps my kids will leave it alone.

7. Exactly who are "Ida Know" and "Not-me" and why do my kids keep playing with these troublemakers?

Negative Patterns

2009-03-26T17:15:00.003-06:00

I read something today that challenged me and it is a question that some significant people who love me dearly have also asked me. I guess it is high time I put some thought into it.

The question I am pondering is: What are some negative patterns that continue to be repeated in past and/or present relationships?

Considering I was married to a controlling, abusive man, then went on to date two other abusive controlling men, I think there is a pattern, as opposed to just "bad luck". The article went on to say that I should take a few minutes to write down two negative patterns that have repeated, being careful not to point the finger at the men but rather look within myself at what I have done, acted like, behaved etc.

So, I did it.

1) When I get into a relationship, I throw my whole self into it and give all my time to that person to the point of neglecting the other areas in my life that require my attention. This includes my time with kids, housework, and so forth. I spend as much time as possible with that person or thinking about them. When I was dating my husband, I pushed friends out of the way (not in a mean way...just did not spend time with them anymore). I did the barest minimum required for school and work and then spent all my time with my boyfriend/fiancee'. In the two dating relationships I had after my divorce, I did the same thing. I spent every spare moment with the man, neglected myself, my children and so forth.

2) I avoid conflict as much as possible. I hate fighting and arguing. So, if there were things that I did not like or did not agree with, rather than deal with them head on, I either ignored them or I changed my opinion to match his. This really did not serve me well in my marriage and opened up the gate to becoming a doormat and being wishy-washy. But also, I did everything I could do to keep the peace and keep him happy. What that did for me was erode who I truly was to the point where I felt like was hardly even a person any more and was really just a role--Mommy and Wife.

Whew. That was not fun coming up with that. But at the same time, it does feel good to look at myself and see that I have those patterns.

The next part of this exercise was even more interesting to me. The author pointed out that women have a tendency towards "all-or-nothing" thinking and when we see something negative that needs to be corrected, we go the other direction and completely root out that bad thing. However, the author pointed out that this pattern is repeating for a reason, even if it may be maladaptive. So, the next part is to take a look at one of those patterns and think about how that negative pattern could be a strength.

I chose to look at the second pattern and explore that one. I avoid conflict as much as possible in other areas of my life and not just romantic relationships. To see this as a strength, well, I do believe my desire to avoid conflict stems from my desire to keep and restore harmony in relationships. I want peace. And what I have seen of myself is that I am willing to work hard and do the work that needs to be done in order to bring the harmony back.

I think my task then is to take this strength and figure out how to restore harmony in relationships without sacrificing or compromising myself and who I am in the process. I do believe that the last 6 years has been a time for me to learn more about who I am as well as who I would like to be. I have discovered parts of myself that were long dormant and parts of myself that are stronger than I thought. As I think about this now, the other thing I am seeing is a deep-seated fear of rejection. If I change myself, make the changes and adjustments, be who the other person wants me to be, then maybe they won't reject me. The kicker is that any person who truly wants to be my friend or otherwise, will accept me as I am; warts and all.

The only thing that stays the same is that everything changes.

2009-03-22T14:07:00.002-06:00

This is how I feel things are moving in my life at the moment. I am facing changes at work, in my children, in my finances, in my health. Basically, every aspect of my life is being touched by change. This is difficult for me in that I am for the most part, a person who does not embrace change very well. I find it stressful and seldom do I find it exciting until I begin to see the benefits and reap the rewards of change.

At work, my supervisor approached me and told me that she would like to work on a different strategy for using me with the rest of my team. My job has always been sort of an evolutionary process anyway but I am quite comfortable right now. I have things going in a steady rhythm with the only issue being that I am a little bit bored because my case load is low. So, a challenge is not unwelcome but it is uncomfortable because I am going to have to stretch myself again. Some of the ideas we came up with were for me to plan to work with each new client a minimum of once a week for a month and then meet with the senior workers to determine whether I should continue further services. In some ways it will be good to talk it over with some other people and have some accountability for my decisions but I will sort of miss that autonomy. However, I can already sense a change in myself and the case managers as I have begun to tell them that if they refer clients to me, this is what I will do initially. I think they feel more supported by me. I am not feeling like I have to make a snap decision but can take more time to get to know a client. I can also do some more education which is something both my supervisor and I agree is one of my strengths and my passions. So, overall, it's a good change.

Last summer, I hit an extremely difficult time financially and it is something I am still trying to pull myself out of. It has been much slower than I anticipated. These changes take more time in order to become permanent patterns. Last summer, I did begin to read more about financial matters and how to better manage money. However, what I really wanted back then was someone to come alongside me and coach me and help me stay on track and keep me accountable. I knew about Crown Ministries and read a lot of things on their website. I tried to get a Crown coach but was never able to connect with anyone or even get a phone call back. It was frustrating. This winter, our pastor did a series on Biblical finances and also mentioned that our church would be starting up a Crown ministry. I was so excited, I could hardly contain myself. This was an answer to prayer, specifically, it was an answer to my prayers from last summer. I got my materials today and have started working on my homework. I am nervous and scared but at the same time, I need to change this area, so I am ready to go.

My health needs addressing too. Both of my parents have developed diabetes. My father is now insulin dependent and my mother is only monitoring her blood sugars and trying to make adjustments in her diet. I have been doing a lot of teaching with my clients on diabetes and I do not want to develop this myself. So far when I have had a fasting blood sugar done, I am below 100 which is good. It does not even put me in a pre-diabetic category. However, my cholesterol has been slowly creeping up and my blood pressure is all over the place. I take a blood pressure med for the purpose of controlling my migraines with the added benefit of controlling blood pressure. But my risk factors are frightening. So, I joined Weight Watchers again. This time, I go to meetings with a friend and this helps me so much, just knowing I have someone to go with and the cheer me on and that I can cheer on too. I peeked at where I started at two summer's ago when I did a WW group at work and I am still down about 10 lbs from where I started then. And I did lose 1 lb this past week with very little change except a lot of "thinking" and processing. This change is slower for me. But I have realized, I am not in a hurry. My goals for joining WW go beyond just weight. It is my overall health that I want to improve and if I can get down to what I weighed before I had children, that would be fantastic. Beyond that, I am not thinking that far yet because it is just too big. 30 lbs, improved health, lower cholesterol and increasing my activity level and setting a good example for my children, those are my initial goals.

Kids are Funny

2009-03-19T11:56:00.001-06:00

My little Peanut told me that when he grows up he wants to get a motorcycle with a sidecar and then he will come and find me and drive me around. I asked him where he thought I would be that he would need to come find me. He did not know.

I did tell him that I was pretty sure that I would always give him my address.

Then he told me that I could always live with him.

But what if you find yourself a pretty girl who loves Jesus and you get married and don’t want to live with your mom?

BB chimes in, “Aunt Desert Bloom lives with your mom…”

True. But Aunt Desert Bloom does not want to continue to live with our Mom forever. She wants to sell her old house and buy a new house and live by herself with her dog and her cat.

I then proceeded to tease my boys further, as well as plant a seed for the future.

Peanut, I think you will grow up and marry Adelyn. She’s a pretty girl who loves Jesus.

“No! She stinks.”

BB, I think you will grow up and marry Abi. And PH, I think you will grow up and marry Hannah. And then you will give me lots of pretty little grand babies that I can spoil to the point that you will say, ‘Mom…stop spoiling my kids’ and I will then say, ‘But that is my job. I’m the grandma, I get to spoil the grand kids because I did not get to spoil you when I had to be MOM. It’s the circle of life.

They then proceeded to tell me the name of one of my friends that they think I should marry. To which I pointed out that would need to be HIS decision. This gave me the opportunity to mention a little bit about what I believe dating is meant to be. I told them that I believe it is to be the man or the boy who asks the girl out and tells of his intentions and not vice versa, even if the world is telling a different story. The Bible is full of stories about men approaching women they are interested in and then approaching her family in order to ask permission to date her.

This went a little bit above their heads but I knew I was just planting a seed.

Later, I shared the conversation with my daughter. She is more fertile soil at this point and was far more interested. And my point to her was different. I did tell her that I believe a boy who wishes to go out with her will be a nice boy who will treat her kindly and if he doesn’t, then he is not worth her time because she is precious and deserves to be treated as such.

I also shared again the illustration from my own life, one that she witnessed, in which I broke off an engagement with a man who started off being loving and kind but as time went on became more controlling and abusive both to myself but also to two of my boys.

“So, you kicked him to the curb.”

Yes, honey, I did. No woman deserves to be treated in a way that is less than respectful and if a man cannot love all of my children, then he cannot love all of me. We are a package.

An Object Lesson

2009-03-15T21:43:00.002-06:00

BB has issues with impulsivity. And at the present time, his impulsiveness is very high and his cooperation is very low. It's not a good mix. But I am on to him and he is not good at hiding things from me. We stopped at a gas station while on our way to Walmart. I was feeling sick and needed the restroom. The boys said they needed to go as well. Unfortunately, boys are very often quicker than girls. This in itself puts me on high alert. They were acting very suspicious in the car so I asked them to empty their pockets and sure enough, they had taken 3 packs of gum. Caleb refused to come and I did not think in that moment, it was going to be best to drag him in kicking and screaming because he was not teachable. But I did get PH to come with me, reluctantly. He was very embarrassed and I was glad because I wanted him to be embarrassed.

While we drove to the gas station, the boys had been talking about buying a gas station when they are 30. BB will be in the office because he is the manager. PH will be the cashier and custodian. It was fun listening to them make their plans.

After driving off from the gas station, still fuming about the gum and resorting to what would amount to a pointless lecture, it struck me that I had an object lesson on hand.So, I talked to BB about his gas station and what it would mean if he was the owner and someone stole a pack of gum from him.

"Well, I would be really mad and I would call the cops."

Really? You would call the cops every time a pack of gum was missing? Would you notice?

"Well, I would have cameras up. I would know."

Do you think the gas station we were in had cameras?

"I looked. There weren't cameras. No one saw us."

Does that make it right? To take something that you did not pay for because no one saw you?

"Well, no."

OK, suppose that when you own a gas station, you notice that everyday 5 people each steal a pack of gum. Each pack of gum costs $1. How much is that a day?"

"$5."

"Right. How much would that be a week?"

"$35."

Hmmm. That is starting to sound like a lot more money. How much is it if that happens every day for a month?"

"$140."

So, BB, why would someone want to own a gas station?

"I don't know. I think it would be cool. I like gas stations. They have lots of things that people buy."

That's true. Usually, people buy a business because they think it will make money and it is their source of income. If you are losing $140 a month just because people are stealing $5 a day, that is money you are expecting to have go into your pocket to pay your bills and expenses but now you don't have it.

"Ohhh."

Light bulb moment.

What is even funnier or more profound was how this morning, when he was in the shower he says, "Mom, how much is 140 times 12?"

Little does he know that I don't do math in my head real well. I need paper or a calculator.

1680. Why?

"I was trying to figure out how much money it would cost for a year. you know, like we talked yesterday."

The boy is still thinking about this. Something connected. It amazed me that he has been thinking about this over night and that he still remembers the number we came up with yesterday afternoon. Not only is he thinking about the cost of stealing but he is also learning some practical application for math.

So Tired

2009-03-10T20:19:00.002-06:00

BB's antics are wearing me out. I can tell that I am running up to the end of my rope. I lost my temper and it was far to easy to do so. Princess has been sick for the last two days and still does not seem to be over it. I told the kids that since she is the one who is sick, then she gets to pick the TV show. BB insisted that she was not really sick, "And you know it."

It was one smart mouthed comment too many. I tried to send him upstairs but he refused to go. So, I put my hands under his arm and escorted him and every other step, he would collapse. So, i grabbed his elbow and he accused me of pulling his arm out.

I get scared when I feel that anger rising inside me and the thoughts I have. He is just being so belligerant, rude and I want him to stop. I did manage to keep enough of my cool but I did raise my voice and I probably told him to "shut up" which has always been a big No-no. I regretted it when it flew out of my mouth however, I needed to get his attention and he would not stop talking over me.

I told him that he would have to stay in my room for 10 minutes until he could show me that he could behave appropriately both in action and in word. And if he came down and started in again with the mouthiness, then he would go back up. He shot back, "Breck (his therapist) all ready told me that. I don't need to hear it again."

Yes, you do. He is your therapist but I am your mom. Your actions have consequences. I set the rules, not you. YOu do not determine the time, the duration or the consequence you have. I do and I will. If you continue to talk back to me like this, then I will begin to add minutes.

I went down and set the timer. After, 10 minutes he came down but he was holding the alarm clock I had given to my daughter. He claimed that it was his and suddenly we were back to fighting.

BB, you are arguing with me again. You are being rude and disrespectful. Now you need to go back up and spend another 10 minutes in my room.

This time, I heard him breaking something but I did not go up until the timer went off. When he came down, he was quieter and I walked over to him and said, "OK, now you are more respectful and your consequence is over."

"You are going to be mad at me again."

No, this is finished. I am not mad anymore.

"Well, I don't know how to say it but I...uh....you are going to be mad."

Be honest and tell me what you did that I am going to be mad about.

"I broke the alarm clock and I took the keys off your computer."

There went my peaceful feelings and back came the anger. And then some.

If you were looking to make me mad, you did it. Now you need to go away because I need to calm down and if I look at you, I can not be calm. I get more and more angry.

I am exhausted. I don't know how much more of this I can take. He is wearing me down.

Resist and Annoy

2009-03-07T10:03:00.003-06:00

Last weekend...part 2...Sunday

Stinky attitude has persisted through this past week. I am quite tired of the snotty responses and rudeness I am hearing from the mouth of my 10 year old. However, I have managed to keep my head about me and I am determined to be persistent in my efforts to maintain this control.

Last Sunday, we had a very busy day and while the busyness persisted, the rude attitude was minimal. Once the activity level dissipated, the mouthiness returned. In the evening, I asked the kids to clean the living room. BB was sitting on the couch and rather than helping with the cleaning, was critiquing every one else and what they were or were not doing. This caused a great deal of frustration and Princess was exasperated and announced, "I am tired of being the only one doing any work."

At this point, I conceded that she had a really good point. I then sent the other children upstairs and had a conversation with BB. I informed him that his behavior was not going to be tolerated and he would be cleaning the remainder of the living room by himself.

"Well, that is not going to happen."

At this point, I began to unplug the TV and the playstation and informed him that these items would not be back on until the living room was done.

"I didn't want to watch TV anyway...there's nothing on."

I continued to unplug and find a way to hide cords and thwart possible attempts to reconnect without permission.

"I don't really want to play video games because they are boring..."

I felt my temper beginning to rise and I walked into the garage to put something away and to gather my wits. After a prayer and a few deep breaths I walked back in and then headed upstairs.

By the way, BB, you may not come upstairs until your work is done.

I sat down at my computer and began to work...fine...I was on Facebook (but that is not an addiction I am willing to address at this point). He came up the stairs. I sucked in a deep breath and walked over, calmly (but I was holding back the anger).

BB, I told you that you are not invited to come upstairs with the rest of us until you finish your work. Head back down. I will be more than happy to see you in a while when you finish your job.

I gently urged him back down the stairs and then walked away and went back to my desk. Within a few minutes, I heard some strange noises. I shuddered and figured I was going to find something broken because he was throwing a fit.

But the sound continued and then I recognized it. The vacuum!

I did a victory dance...in my head. If I actually did one, it would have spoiled the effect of MOM in CONTROL. But inside, I was jumping, dancing and whooping for JOY!! However, rather than go downstairs, I waited.

He came up a few minutes later and shyly said, "Hi. I'm done."

I heard the vacuum. Let us go and see your work.

"By 'us', do you mean you?"

No, I mean you and I will go down and see what you have done.

In that moment, I decided that no matter what the living room looked like, this kid needed positive feedback. He had pushed through and had chosen the right thing. When we went down, I pointed out a few things he needed to pick up and then I gushed about what he had done and invited him to join us upstairs.

Something has changed inside me. It's hard work but it is working. To myself, I say "Go Girl! Keep it up!"

Showdown Weekend Part 1

2009-03-01T20:35:00.006-06:00

I have talked about my son with ADHD. We have been in a very quiet and pleasant place for a while. Always in the back of my mind, I have known it was bound to turn and we would be back to challenging behaviors and "attitude".

That time has come. Even though I knew it would come, I was still caught off guard because I did not see any warning signs. It is as if he woke up on Saturday and decided, "Yup, this is it. Today is the day I am going to ride every one of her nerves, challenge every request and be as smart-mouthed about it as I possibly can. Game on."

I recognized it quickly and I have been trying to gain control of my own emotions and get back to being rational. It is very, very hard. My feelings are very raw and I am on a tight rope of losing my cool at any moment or running into my room and hiding in a corner with my thumb in my mouth in a full blown pout and/or cry.

However, considering that I am supposedly the grown-up...the In-charge One...Maker of Rules and Destroyer of Fun...and the new one "You make us work to hard!". To which I would love to stand on the dining room table, broom in my hand, a cape flowing behind me, a fantastic hair-do (as all the superhero's have fantastic hair AND capes...) and say to the little ones below, "You think THIS is hard? Why don't you try working for a living, doing all your laundry, planning menus, shopping, budgeting, paying bills, washing dishes, cleaning dirty toilets and picking up your filthy, stinky socks and attempting to make them white again...Ha ha ha...Cleaning the living room is NOTHING!...and don't forget to get under the end tables because it annoys me."

I think they would laugh. And I need to be taken seriously.

BB, in his determined way, had a doozy of a weekend. It required a 2 hour recovery period on my part on Sunday afternoon. He wore me out but he did not wear me down. I am proud of the fact that for the most part, with the exception of a few loud outbursts, I kept cool and level-headed.

It started on Friday night when we went to Sam's Club and there was a mistakenly labeled PS2 game that the boys have "only wanted FOREVER" and the price was $18. I have to admit, I was excited too. Between the two oldest boys, they had $15. I could cough up the other $3, on the condition that they would work it off. However, it turned out that it was for a PSP. Their faces were sad and downcast. BB insisted that we drive to a different Walmart than we usually go to and described it only as " the one Grandma took me too". Little does he know that I know of about 7 different Walmart's , any one of which Grandma could have taken him to as she also knows the "W circuit", and I was no where near "in the mood" to drive all over in the hunt for a game after a long day of work followed by shopping. He grumbled and griped.

Saturday morning, he woke up in a fowl mood. He had a basketball game, supposedly his last one, at 8 am. He broke his end of our bargain about taking his Strattera. The bargain being that he would take his medication quickly and without grumbling, complaining or fussing and I would provide chocolate syrup for his milk that he takes his med with. It took 10 minutes that we did not have to lose in order to get him to swallow it.

After his game and our celebratory breakfast at Denny's with the family, we headed to Gamestop to check for a used copy of Lego Indy. No go. While the boys browsed the video games, I put their names down for haircuts at the shop next door. We headed over to Target since we had 2 hours to kill before the hair appointments. Shortly after this, things fell apart. Big time.

Target had the game but it was double the price I was willing to pay. And I explained this. But it did not make BB happy. He was upset. I am fine with that. It was disappointing but I had a plan in mind and I would have shared that plan with him if he would have listened but he decided instead to be so angry that he would not hear a thing I said.

When I was checking out, BB disappeared. I sent the other kids off to look for him and suddenly, I had no children in sight. As I wheeled the cart over in the direction I had seen them go, I saw BB lurking around the books. He would not look me in the eye and he would not follow me. I found the other kids and we swung back by BB but he still refused to come along. I have found when he acts like this, it is best to not give him a lot of attention but instead, walk away and he will follow eventually. He knows I will not leave him behind but he does not get a victory in seeing me get all flustered or bent out of shape.

I got all the way out of the store, stopped to "adjust" my shoe and peer behind me. He still had not come out. I got all the way to the van, loaded the bags, the other 3 were belted in. I started the van and looked in the mirrors and still no sign of him. I decided then that I would drive over towards the door and if need be, I would now HUNT HIM DOWN. As I pulled up to the curb, he was slowly walking and pretending he did not see me. I pushed the button to open the side door and called out to him. He ignored me and did not get in the van.

I had to go out and get him. Looking back, it could have looked very much like a poorly executed kidnapping as I tried to grab a very reluctant child and pull him into a waiting, engine-running, black van with the side door open. This boy continues to have the ability to turn his bones into rubber as well as be able to act like an octopus with all 8 arms and suction cups working to prevent himself from being put in the van and to keep his mother, who is fighting to keep her cool, from getting him in to the van. Every time I got his legs folded in to the van and the door shut, he would push the button and open the door. So, I would do it again. And he would push the button.

In desperation, I told his sister to lock the door when I got him in and the door shut, not thinking how I was going to get myself into the van. This did not work. Stupid van doors with automatic buttons. Sometimes technology is not my friend.

I kind of knocked him off the seat and onto the open floor by the seat and got the door shut, telling Peanut to sit down and take the seat. But he then just opened the other door. I was ready to scream. I walked quickly to the other side of the van, muttering incoherently as I did, and this time, I grabbed him around the middle and shoved him into the back seat and told him in my hardest, yet not a yelling voice, "THIS WILL STOP NOW." And managed to get the door shut.

I scrambled to my seat, locked the doors and began to drive. Then my mouth opened and words were flying. I was white hot, seeing-red, going to explode MAD. I took the other 3 to their hair appointments and told BB that he was to stay in the car until he could sweeten up and I really did not care whatsoever if he got his haircut but he WOULD NOT be embarrassing me or our family again with his behavior.

I was very surprised when he stayed in the van and did not sulk in after a few minutes. I worried a little bit but one of my kids checked on him periodically and said he was asleep under his coat and his quilt. So, I stopped worrying so much. He needed the nap and I needed the break.

Later in the afternoon, he was much calmer and I was able to talk it through with him. He was able to identify that his choices were not beneficial and did not get him what he wanted. He also told me that he was having a very hard time because, "There are just so many things missing from my life."

These comments just tear into my heart every time. It does not get him off the hook for his behavior. But I know that sometimes his "Daddy hunger" is a little closer to the surface than other times. And when he is feeling stressed, it surfaces more quickly.

I think I have gotten better are recognizing that he is trying to start a fight. He wants to release the emotions he has inside him and for some reason, he knows that starting a big fight with me does that. But it is maladaptive and inappropriate. He needs to learn and I need to teach him better ways of coping with disappointment and complex feelings. I saw the signs that he wanted a power struggle and I did not give in. I tried to validate the feelings without excusing the behaviors. I also stuck to my guns about his behavior and my expectations. What I did not know on Saturday was that I would be tested again on Sunday.

Yay. More practice.

Housework...It Puts the Chore in Chores

2009-02-24T12:23:00.002-06:00

I hate it. It sucks up so much of my free time and energy and just plain drives me crazy. To further compound matters, one of my machines that I rely heavily on is not currently working and it is taking another slice of time and energy that I do not feel I can spare.

My dishwasher. It currently is nothing more than a white door filling up a large hole under the counter. It should make my life easier. It should free up my time in the kitchen. I have fought this beast for almost a year and I am now waving the white flag of defeat. The beast has won. My aggravation is compounded by the fact that because I am merely renting my townhouse, I am at the mercy of the management company and one particular person and when he "can get around to it."

I tried to up the ante last week by calling the Management office and speaking with the maintenance coordinator directly but then I started getting calls again from D any way. He did come out and fix the light in my kitchen that quit working. But he told me that he would be calling Sears to come out and look at the dishwasher. It has now been over two weeks since I called in my complaint. I have been washing all of my dishes by hand since that time, occasionally glaring at my dishwasher sitting smugly on the floor, empty and useless.

This man D either accused me or insinuated that I was using laundry soap and thus my dishwasher was not going to work. He did not listen to me even though I assured him I am not "that stupid" and do know the difference between the two. I have been washing dishes by and in a machine, as well as doing laundry since I was 8 years old. I know the difference between all the soaps. He then admitted that his wife buys the soap. I then realized he was looking for an excuse to not be responsible for the problem with the dishwasher.

I could tell him the problem. It's a cheap piece of junk!

He did send Sears out and they did all sorts of tests and ran a load with 1 cup. And told me that everything was fine. It spins, it sprays, it heats up water. But seriously, who ever washes just 1 cup? And if you have read my blog, you would know that I have been known to wash an entire load of just cups!

So, in preparation for whenever D "gets around to it", I have written a list that I will tack onto my dishwasher door:

The Problem with the Dishwasher is:

It does not dissolve the soap even after running it for 3 cycles. Please note the soap still in the dispenser, dried onto the door and down in the bottom of the machine. That is after 3 full cycles.

The dishes come out dirtier than they went in. They have a soapy residue that has to be washed off. The worst is the glasses that foam when you put water in them because of the soap.

The items in the top rack do not appear to get any water on them as they are usually dry and still look dirty.

What I have done to Resolve or Work with the Problem:

Run half loads.

Space the dishes out so that no dish touches the other and water can easily get through

Tried powdered detergent, liquid detergent, different brands

Ran the dishwasher with a dishwasher cleaner

Hopefully this note will be clear enough for the repair man to make an assessment. I really do not like complaining but I don't have a lot of time to do the things I already do and to have to add washing dishes by hand after every meal is adding a fair amount of stress to my day and my life in general.

I am trying to get my children more involved with cleaning. I used to have them switch jobs every week but one day it hit me that while this does give them variety, it is not giving them mastery nor is it giving them ownership. So, for the time being and I am seriously considering a period of 6 months, they have one area that is their responsibility to keep clean and to thoroughly clean each week.

I'm getting a bit of grumbling and it is not always done to my satisfaction. However, it does provide me with opportunities to instruct each child in the things they are doing well and then the areas that they need to work harder at. I am hoping that the more they have to clean their assigned area, the more they will begin to care about it and will begin to see the messes and take care of them before they get bad.

It is funny when I hear some complaining. My favorite is from BB who says, "Why do we have to clean on Saturday. That's our day off."

I remind him that the Bible says God worked for 6 days and rested on the 7th. I also tell him that Saturday is also my day off and while I would love to just sit around and do fun stuff, there are things that have to be done and the sooner we get them done, the more time we have left to do fun stuff.

While my house is not perfect by any means, it is looking a lot tidier except in certain "Kid only" areas. And I will work on those one at a time. The organization I started last week is really helping me keep on top of paper that comes into the house. It is more clear to the kids where things are supposed to go. It does not mean they always do it but with a quick reminder, they usually will put their coat away or their backpack. This is doing wonders for my stress level. There is a lot to be said for coming home to a house that is picked up and the kitchen is clean.

It is just a never ending job. I read a quote in a magazine the other day that is very appropriate. It made me chuckle. "Cleaning your house when you have children at home is like shoveling when it is still snowing."

Pumpkin Head

2009-02-19T16:55:00.002-06:00

This little guy, just 7 years old...well, turning 8 in May, is having a really tough time. He had surgery in November to resolve the chronic reflux he was having. Over the course of the summer and fall, he was getting sicker and sicker. He was irritable. He was vomiting and regurgitating multiple times an hour and nothing we tried was helping. Surgery seemed like the only option. Of course, I was aware that surgery is not without risk and not without potential complications. It was not an easy decision but I did decide to go ahead with it because it did seem to be the best option.

Since his surgery on November 4 but probably more since Christmas, he has begun losing weight. He has lost about 5-6 lbs. When your starting weight is 54 lbs, this is very significant. And when people begin to notice and make comments about it, it is significant. He also began falling asleep every time we were in the car. He began falling asleep in school. I noticed his appetite was severely diminished and he was often sick after eating and would need to rest for a while after eating.

After trying to work on it myself, I finally realized it was a bigger problem then I could handle and probably a bigger problem than I was even aware of. So, I got him in to the doctor last week. He had some blood work done at that time as well and it shows that he is beginning to show signs of malnutrition.

So, for the next month, I am making a very deliberate and concerted effort to increase his caloric intake in any way I can. The doctor wants him to drink two supplemental shakes a day and to take his Prevacid again. In one month, we will go back in and see how he is doing and if he will need more tests.

What I suspect, now that I have begun to do some research on my own is that he has something called Dumping Syndrome in which his stomach, because of the surgery, is now emptying too fast into his intestines and thus nutrients are not being absorbed because they don't have the time to sit in the stomach and get broken down further. He seems to have the symptoms of the fatigue and stomach pain after eating, the weight loss and malnutrition.

The treatment is exactly what we are doing now and it may be a long road to recovery for him. He is going to have to learn to eat differently. I am going to have to learn to feed him differently. The other children will have to learn that he will get snacks and things at different times and will get offered things that they will not. It is going to be something that affects all of us.

I have been talking with the school psychologist and the school nurse. We are developing a 504 plan which is to put some things in place that will allow us to help him recover. He can have his Ensure in class. He likes that he has a "desk refrigerator" as he calls it and he has some yummy enriched cereal bars and snack bars at school. I am so grateful to the school for how they have just jumped right in to help me out and to help him.

I did not have that experience with some of the other schools I have worked with. I had a difficult time working with a principal when BB was being diagnosed with ADHD and we were trying out different medications to figure out which one was going to work best for him. She labeled him a sociopath. He was 6 years old. I tried to explain that it was the medication and that it was blunting his affect and personality and this was not him. But she saw him in this troublemaker category and refused to see him any other way. I felt that she labeled me as well. I was in my last year of nursing school and frantically trying to balance classwork, clinicals, 4 children and a part-time job and then a child with a learning disability. I was at my wits end but I think she saw me as witless and pathetic. That was how she treated me; patronizing me and asserting her power and authority.

Contrast that experience with what I am experiencing now and I am completely blown away by the care and concern I am receiving for each one of my boys. It is very humbling.

More on the science fair and other stories

2009-02-18T09:23:00.003-06:00

According to BB, the egg was a huge hit and EVERYONE wanted to touch it. He also said that the graph we made on excel did not need to be explained "because everyone got it right away". He also said he did not have to do any talking. I am still hanging on with baited breath to find out what his grade is. He said he did get a lot of positive remarks about his poster. So, we did good. And I think that he did learn a great deal in the process, so that is a good thing.

Peanut is completely cracking me up lately. He says the funniest things. Except that he says them in all seriousness and does not mean to be funny. Over the weekend, we were at Sam's Club and eating lunch. He tried to quote a line from the boy's favorite show Star Wars: the Clone Wars and said, "Let's turn these clones into scrapbooks." I believe the correct word was "scrap metal" but his version is very cute and the kids launched into lengthy descriptions of robots sitting down to cut up pictures and glue them down, showing each other their books. There was a great deal of giggling and laughing. I enjoyed it immensely because for a few brief moments, the older brothers were laughing with Peanut instead of making fun of him or calling him annoying.

There was an older couple sitting behind us and the gentleman said to me, as I stood up, "I really enjoyed listening to your children talking about their favorite show and laughing. It was a lot of fun." I figure it really made his day if he took the time to comment to me about it.

This morning, while driving in the car, Peanut said something and it made me laugh. I told him he was very funny and very smart. He replied, "Am I smarter than PH?"

No. You two are funny and smart in your own unique ways. One is not better than the other. God made you special because he has a plan for your life and needs you to be how you are so you can fulfill that plan. We just don't know what that plan is because you are still growing up.

"I know what my special plan is..."

Oh you do? What is it?

"To take over the world."

I burst out laughing.

"And to get lots of toys."

The Weekend

2009-02-17T12:39:00.003-06:00

More 12 year old drama. A few weeks ago, in celebration of Princess's 12th birthday, we went shopping and got her a bunch of really cute clothes because her wardrobe was pretty pathetic and things weren't fitting. However, many of the items we bought are still on their hangers with the tags still on. In my new "We Will Be Organized Or Die Trying" mode, I told Princess that she needed to pick out her Sunday clothes on Saturday. I am fairly certain I told her to do this twice. I am almost positive I told her to do this 3 times. But come Sunday morning, 20 minutes before we are to head out the door, I am scrambling to get the boys dressed and ready and Princess is still sitting in her PJ's. I told her to get dressed. She plops down on her bed and sighs.

Oh No You Don't.

I continue to get ready. The clock is ticking and I am not ready, only half-dressed and half-way done with my hair.

Princess, you need to get dressed.

"I don't know what to wear."

You have at least 5 brand new, cute tops to wear. Pick one. I don't even care if you wear jeans because you don't have many skirts. But you have to put something on.

More sighs.

You are 12 years old. And way too old to have your Mommy pick out your clothes. You have until I have my hair done and am dressed to get yourself ready. That is about 10 minutes.

When I finished getting ready, I found her sitting on the yoga ball in our closet, pouting.

Are you dressed?

"Yes."

Then what are you doing in the closet?

"Just sitting here."

I am trying to laugh about this even though at the time I was incredibly frustrated. If I don't laugh about it, I am going to start pouting and park myself on the yoga ball in my closet and pout until things go my way.

The other event of the weekend was Banana Boy's science fair project. He did not tell me that he had this HUGE project to do until a week ago. Part of the project entailed conducting an experiment. We had very little time so we needed a quick experiment.

I told him about my vinegar egg experiment that I did in chemistry and mentioned the word "osmosis". Right then and there I knew I had gone over his head. He liked the egg idea. I googled the experiment and found a very cool way to tie the experiment into something he could relate to...or should relate to: How cavities are formed.

He liked the idea. However, for the ADHD child, the long-haul big-picture process is a bit daunting and very overwhelming. Not to mention he struggles with procrastination. I did not realize either that he was doing no research or work on this in school. It was to be done completely at home. So, we spent President's day scrambling to get everything done for his tri-fold poster. I did get his marginal participation in the experiment. I took pictures over the weekend and got him into the pictures as often as I could. We talked about the experiment as much as I could get his attention.

But in the end, I was the one who was up to 10pm putting the last finishing touches on his poster and gluing things down. His siblings think it is very cool. I hope we got everything he needed. I hope I did enough teaching and talking with him about cavities and the connection to the calcium in the egg shell and the chicken bones that we soaked in vinegar.

I am anxious to hear about it when he gets home from school. I also want to know what kind of grade I will get in science. :)

Simplify

2009-02-15T16:46:00.002-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, I reached my breaking point in regards to the amount of dishes I currently have in circulation. It's way, way, way too many. The realization hit me when I ran an entire load in the dishwasher of just cups and glasses.

At that point, the gloves came off and I decided something HAD to be done. It's ridiculous to use that many cups. I am sure that my children take a few sips out of a glass and set it down, generally in a location that is not Mom-Approved (i.e. the living room end table or Gasp! the living room floor where it will be kicked over). I have also decided that water and milk are perfectly acceptable beverages and I will no longer purchase, with exception to special occasions, Crystal lite or other drink mixes. If you move my love seat, you will find a large blue stain that is a blinding reminder of why I will not ever, EVER buy grape drink mixes, no matter how tasty.

I have friends that have trained their 6 children to use only one cup. Each child has their own unique colored camping cup. I thought this was an absolutely brilliant idea. I just never went so far as to implement it. I did poke around at various stores looking for different colored tin cups. But after the Dishwasher Full Of Cups Incident, I got down to business. I found blue tin cups at a store and decided to also purchase paint markers and my kids could decorate their cup and make them unique. They liked the idea and then I also explained that this would be the only cup they were to use.

It's been a slow transition but they are getting used to it. When they ask for a cup, I tell them to look for theirs. It works for the most part but when they can't find it, they resort to pulling cups out of the cupboard. I knew I needed to do something about that temptation and I had plans but then I got hit Wham Bam with only a week between with both a stomach virus and then the entire family got the flu. This pretty much sapped all my energy and time for a solid month.

On the day I bought the tin cups, I also decided I would cut down on the number of dishes we use as well. So, I bought clear salad plates and had the kids decorate them from underneath. The paint doesn't last forever but I figure they may like being able to redecorate their plate again with something different or seasonally. I will admit that this idea is not unique. I read it in a magazine. I can't remember which one, in order to give credit where it is due.

This weekend I finally have energy back and an extra day off. So, I went on the attack. With 4 children in school, the amount of paper that comes home every week is substantial and even daunting. I don't know how many things I have lost because I didn't have a good system in place.

Again, my friend with the 6 children, now 7 children, came to my rescue with the idea of using file folders for each day of the week and then each month of the year. I added to it by creating a folder for each family member. I also took my cubbie station by my front door and moved it to my kitchen. I have always intended for the kids to put their backpacks and other items in their cubbies but since we always seem to come in through the garage, the backpacks keep landing in the kitchen. I can't believe it took so long for me to figure out that I should move the cubbies.

Since I was on a roll, I reorganized my kitchen cabinets and moved out the extra dishes and cups. Now there are only the 5 tin cups and then a set of 6 plastic cups, 5 plates and 5 bowls. Less to keep track of, less to clean. Simple. Organization in my kitchen that makes sense.

I have other areas in my home that need to be organized. I have decided that I will focus on one area per week and then continue to maintain the areas I have already done. I think this is the key to caring for a big family by myself.

One more thing I did that seems to work very well: instead of dragging all of the food to the table and trying to serve 4 children at the table, I decided to leave the food in the kitchen and serve from the stove. So, the children come to the kitchen, take their plate of dinner out to the table. It has cut down on a lot of back and forth traffic of pots and pans which always annoys me. Again, it is just one more thing that seems to make my life a little simpler and less stressful.

Consequences

2009-02-10T09:37:00.003-06:00

Tough lesson for Princess today. She is getting a 2nd tardy at school. I do feel a little bit guilty about it. However, at the same time I have realized that I have to push her more to do things herself and take some responsibility. I can’t save her from everything. The tears in her eyes and the quiet stillness in the car told me that she gets it. At least I hope she does.

The mornings are tough. I am trying to draw a line in the proverbial sand. 6am to 6:45 am is Mom Time. I do not want to do anything for anyone else but myself. I need to shower, get dressed and do all the things I need to do in order to get ready for my day, without interruption. The boys are sleeping and thus, they do not interrupt. However, my daughter needs to get up during this time as well and get herself ready for school. She has set her alarm to go off but it goes off to music and she continues to sleep through it.

So I find myself having to wake her up. And she does not wake up easily or quickly. And now Mom Time gets shortened because I have to spend precious minutes in between or during my personal time waking her up. This morning was no different, I grabbed my bathrobe and gave her a couple of shakes. She rolled over. I got in the shower, dried off, moussed my hair and then I shook her again, calling her name. She stirred slightly. I kept trying while I brushed my teeth.

Then I started to get panicky because it is close to 6:45 and I was no where near ready. My hair was not dry. My make-up was not on and I was not dressed and she was still not up. I had to get more forceful. My voice got louder and after several minutes, she finally sat up in bed. I took myself down, in my bathrobe, to the kitchen and put together her lunch and started the lunches for the boys. It’s 7:00 and she was meandering down the stairs, telling me there was not enough time to get to the bus. She still had to put her shoes on, get her back pack, put her lunch in it, put on her coat. By the time she finally started moving toward the door, it was 7:08 and she told me that she would probably miss the bus.

I sensed that she wanted to just give up. But there is a lesson that is important and I wanted her to get it. So, I told her to go. If she missed the bus, then she could come back but she needed to hurry.

A few minutes went by, I was in the middle of drying my hair. I still had 3 boys to wake up and dress. She came back. She missed the bus. I told her that she would have to write that down when she signs in at school.

The next several minutes were very frustrating for me because now, in order to get her to school before 8 am, I had to get every one up and out the door in less than 10 minutes. The boys were still sound asleep. At 7:45, I finally had everyone up and somewhat awake and Princess decided at that very moment that she wanted to fill up her water bottle.

I completely lost my cool. This just pushed me over the edge. It was not pretty. I dropped the boys off and she got an earful as we drove over to school. She tried to tell me that she didn’t know we were leaving then.

Excuse me?

I was telling everyone to get their shoes on and grab their coats and HEAD OUT THE DOOR and you didn’t know we were leaving? You did not look at the clock and note that the time was now 7:50 am…and school starts at WHAT TIME? 8 am? It takes 15 minutes to get you to school…? You could not put that together? You could not fill this all important water bottle in the 30 minutes you had from the time you came home to say you missed the bus to the time I started telling YOU specifically to get YOUR stuff and GET INTO the car??

Silence.

Ohhh, girlfriend…don’t give Momma silence. Huh uh…

Then she says, audaciously, “If I say I missed the bus, I need a note or a phone call or it will be unexcused.”

Oh Daughter….oh, oh, oh Daughter…

Do you think this is an excused tardy? Do you think I should excuse you when I spent the better part of 30 minutes trying to wake you up and get you out the door and then you spent 5 minutes telling me how you didn’t have enough time to get to the bus while you drag your feet and can’t hurry because your backpack is too heavy? Exactly who’s responsibility is this? Who is doing you a favor in getting you to school at all today?

What do you think? You can answer me. Is this an excused tardy?

“No.”

What are the consequences of unexcused tardies?

“I will get detention”

How many unexcused tardies do you have to get before you get detention?

“Three.”

How many do you have?

“One.”

Including today?

“Two.”

Then you are on thin ice, aren’t you? You have a problem to fix. I will help you. We have a different alarm clock that no one is using. We will move that upstairs and you will set it for 6 am.

She was silent and turned away from me but I could see tears in her eyes. Something was getting through. Her face was soft, so she was not angry. She was chastened. This is good.

Consequences are not comfortable, daughter. But it is how we learn.

Bonding

2009-02-07T21:46:00.002-06:00

Thankfully, it appears that we are going to live after all. I said this to Princess and she burst into giggles. I take it as a good sign that we are getting better. Laughter has returned.

Not without a price however. It seems the residuals of the flu for each of us is a lingering cough. And laughing seems to trigger coughing fits. For me, this then causes pain under my ribs, around my diaphram and my intercostal muscles (those muscles between the ribs that move the ribcage out and in during breathing).

BB sent me into a coughing/laughing fit. I announced to the kids that I was making pancakes for dinner. BB croaked, "That sounds good." Something about the way his voice cracked and sounded so hoarse sounded so funny and I began to laugh and then the coughing started. As I laughed and coughed myself into a blue, oxygen deprived state, BB began laughing and coughing at the same time. Everytime we tried to talk, we laughed and coughed more. It lasted about 5 or 6 minutes. When I finally caught my breath, BB said, "Mom, we're bonding, aren't we?"

In sickness and in health, baby!

Sequestered

2009-02-06T13:39:00.000-06:00

The Flu has hit my family this week. Hard. No one is unscathed or untouched. I do think that since I had a flu shot, perhaps my bout is slightly, but only by the barest amount, less severe than my children. Princess and Peanut have been home from school since Monday. BB and PH were struck down by Wednesday. By Wednesday night, I too had a fever and chills and could not get warm enough. So, on Thursday, all 5 of us were crashed out in the living room.

I had to do some rearranging of bodies so that we could all fit. Me, being Mom and also the tallest, needed the couch. So, I moved BB, who was more fevered than his sister who had been home for 3 days, to the loveseat. I moved Princess to the chair with the footstool. PH got his fuzzy chair and had to share the footstool with Princess. Peanut could either share the little triangular space between my bent legs and the back of the couch or take a spot on the floor.

I tucked everyone in with their pillows, blankets, a water bottle and turned on Cartoon Network. It struck me that we looked like a very colorful, fuzzy M.A.S.H. unit. However, I doubt that in the Korean War they had the soft polar fleece blankets with cutesy snowmen nor were they entertained by Spongebob Squarepants and Scooby Doo.

And my medical unit was missing something. There was no one well enough to take care of us. I realized this as I heard the hoarse crying of Peanut from upstairs. I tried to ignore him because I was finally comfortable and enjoying a slightly delirious but pleasant dream. The crying continued and Princess then, in her own hoarse voice, “Mom, Peanut needs you.”

I stumbled off the couch, grabbing the walls and trying to steady myself as I went up the stairs. I figured he would tell me that he was out of toilet paper or some other silly non-critical issue that I could be mad about.

I was wrong.

Poor Peanut had tried to get himself to the toilet but the downstairs one was occupied so he psyched himself up to go upstairs even though “It’s scary.” But apparently, he did not succeed in getting his pants down in time. As I walked to the bathroom, he calls out, “Mommy, you need to clean up the floor.”

There is really very little that can make me gag. I have a strong stomach on most good days. Today was not a good day. I won’t be gross but it was not pleasant and I wound up putting my son into the tub and having to clean the floor, a rug, a towel, his pants and underwear and a washcloth by the time it was all said and done. And then I collapsed on my bed.

I had kind of hoped that Peanut would be able to go to school on Friday. However, he came to me with the thermometer in his hand and even as I touched his hand to take the thermometer, I knew he had a fever again. His eyes looked glassy again. I took his temp and it was 102.4. Looks like he will be home again. At least while they are all this sick, they don’t cause any trouble. They don’t fight with each other and they don’t argue with me. In that way, it’s kind of nice.

BB made me laugh when I felt his forehead and estimated his temp to be around 102.5 and I suggested to him that he take some Ibuprofen to lower his fever and make him more comfortable. He said, “Mom, I don’t want to do drugs.”

How am I to argue with that?

I did tell him that it was up to him but this was medicine, which is not the same as “drugs” and it would be for the purpose of helping him feel better. He still insisted that he would be OK. I’m not going to push him on it. He can make that decision. However, I have decided that if he starts to get delirious or his temp gets over 103, he gets medicine.

I hope that we all start feeling better soon. I think I am recovering. I have no fever. My rib muscles ache from coughing and I am tired. However, I felt just enough energy to do the dishes that I had neglected for several days and this morning, I picked up garbage around the living room. I may even vacuum. I think I should also wash everyone’s sheets, pillow cases and blankets when they start feeling better. The fact that I am thinking about these things implies a degree of improving health. Whether they get done in the near future is another story.

Adolescent on the Verge

2009-01-30T15:25:00.002-06:00

This week I had one of those moments when I realized that once again, things are changing in my household, in one of my children and in my role as the Mom. I was caught off-guard and thus was unprepared for the emotional upheaval it caused me.

I have been a Mom for 12 years...closer to 13 if you count the months I was pregnant. And in those 12+ years I have taken care of the health and well-being of my children. I fill out the papers and "surveys" at the doctor's office. I schedule appointments for physicals, vision checks, surgeries and last minute "someone got a rock lodged in their forehead" appointments. I will admit, it is crazy keeping track of who needs what when but I am so grateful for tools like electronic records and proxy access that allow me to schedule appointments online, check on immunizations and print them off. I have a calendar at home that I use a color-code system to keep track of every one's appointments and activities. I have it down to a fairly, well-tuned art. (I am not perfect so it does break down or I do from time to time, lest you think I never make mistakes. Ask my daughter about the day I told her that I would pick her up at school for her physical and it was at the end of the day, apparently it was also on Homecoming and all of the high school kids were released early and flooded the middle school to pick up younger siblings and take them downtown to watch the parade. I could not see my daughter in this huge mob of black and orange teenagers, yelling out at the top of their lungs. I figured she forgot and got on the bus, so I took her younger brother and we went to his appointment. However, she was sitting patiently in the office, waiting for me. Poor girl. I probably scarred her for life.

Now that my daughter is 12, this physical would be her first adolescent exam. I was worried she would be embarrassed about being asked questions about what stage of puberty and development she was in and having to be undressed for the doctor. And since she has a history of sexual abuse, this compounded my fears even more. We talked about it before the appointment and she was completely fine with that component of the exam.

She was not, however, happy that she would be getting shots. And she made it very clear that she was quite healthy and did not see why she needed any shots now or ever again and I should know this about her by now. She worked herself up into quite a lather about it.

At the time of the exam, she had calmed down quite a bit and was quietly asking me questions and chatting away. I noticed right away that the nurse hardly talked to me at all but talked to my daughter and asked HER all the questions. I was taken aback.

I was filling out a Health survey and suddenly realized that the questions were supposed to be answered by my daughter. So, with a sigh of sadness and transition, I passed the clipboard over to her. She is going to be in charge of her own health. I am not #1 person in this office visit anymore. It really surprised me how much that caught me off guard. I am just not ready for all of this. I know she is growing up. I can see the evidence in every aspect of her life. But I don't want her to. I want her to stay a little girl a little longer. I have just gotten the hang of this parenting thing and now I have to change again. I'm not ready!

I thought about it some more and realized my daughter and I are in a Push and Pull dance. I think this will continue for quite some time. She is going to push against me and try to gain independence and I will have to pull back. She may at the same time try to pull back to some of her childish ways and I will have to push her into more mature behaviors. It's going to be a tricky balance. I don't think it is going to be easy for either of us.

Back to the doctor appointment. She answered all of the questions and we were both relieved that there was no undressing. The doctor discussed her puberty and had her look at pictures and point out where she feels she is at. He discussed her health and she was really listening. I was very proud of her for that. But then it was time for shots.

My mature 12 year old disappeared when the two nurses walked in with their syringes. I could have closed my eyes and been back to a time when she was two years old. The nurses told her that they needed her upper arms. She began to argue that she wanted her shots "One at a time" but the nurses tried to convince her that it would be best to have it over all at once. She was protesting and fussing and yelling about it, tears stinging her eyes. While she argued, the nurses did the shots and it was over.

Suddenly, she blinked and turned to each nurse and glared. Then she glared at me. And burst into tears. I had to stifle a laugh because it was so cute. I helped her put her shirt back on and she started saying things like:

"I don't know if I should go back to school. My arms are really sore."

I nodded. But not in agreement, just to indicate that I was listening.

"I mean we are doing these stretches in gym and I don't think I can do them."

ummm hmmmm....

"And I don't think I can write. In French, we write for the whole time... How am I going to carry my back pack pack?"

I looked at her, "Sweetie, you are going back to school. I know your arms are sore but you are going to be fine."

But then I had to tell her that we had to go to the lab for a blood draw.

"Oh, well they are just going to poke my finger. That's not so bad."

I let out a big sigh, "Well, actually, they need to draw a couple of tubes of blood, so they need to get that from the crease of your elbow."

"WHAT!!"

She's a bit of a drama queen. She always has been . When she was little, and she would stub her toe, she would limp for days and days and tell me that she couldn't do anything I asked her to do because her foot hurt too much. I don't want to give in to that too much. Sometimes, there are things in life that we just have to suck up and deal with. Getting shots and blood drawn is one of those things and it does not get you out of school. Or homework.

2009-01-30T10:00:00.003-06:00

In my very busy life, I have days when I really look forward to the kids going to bed. It will be the first time all day that I can relax and do something for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids to pieces and I love to spend time with them but they are energy sappers and I am an introvert by nature. What I have learned about being an introvert is that I need a lot of down time in order to get rejuvenated and refreshed and ready to go back out into the world of people and energy sappers again. For this reason, bedtime is very important to me. And I am strict about what time it starts.

9 o’clock pm. Sharp. If it goes beyond 9 pm, I have been known to grow fangs and become a bit short-tempered. Sometimes I have days when I wish that bedtime would come a little sooner than 9 pm. But my ability to send children to bed early has been thwarted by their increasing ability to tell time and their awareness of daylight and darkness. And I have tried but I get the response back, usually from Smarty-pants BB, “It’s only 8:57. We have 3 more minutes.”

Even though my bedtime is strict, my kids are not great about staying in bed at 9pm. And they try to stretch out the bedtime process as much as possible. The following is a list of things they have said to me.

Why I can’t Go to Bed Yet:

1. I need my favorite ______________ pajamas (fill in Batman, Spiderman, Comfy, Fuzzy or “You know what one’s I like”) and you did not wash them yet.

2. I have to go to the bathroom.

But honey, you just went a few minutes ago.

I have to go again. This is my EMERGENY bathroom trip.

You used that one already…4 bathroom times ago. You do remember that Mom is a nurse and knows that it is physically impossible, even for a boy such as yourself to have to use the bathroom more times in 15 minutes than you go all day because your kidneys only produce about a teaspoon of urine an hour and your bladder will only tell your brain it is full and needs to be empty when there are many more teaspoons in there…

3. I need a glass of water.

4. I wanted to bring you a glass of water. You looked thirsty.

5. I forgot something downstairs.

Like what?

Ummmm….I don’t remember but I will know it when I see it.

If you don’t know what it is, how do you know you even forgot it?

It just feels like I forgot something, that's all.

6. I have to say good-night to everyone.

7. I wanted to hug the cat and she is downstairs.

8. I needed to ask __________ a question.
And it can’t wait til tomorrow?
No.
What is the question?
I wanted to know the name of that guy in Arkham Asylum with Penguin.
And how will that help you sleep?
I just need to know his name.

9. I forgot to do my homework.
You’re in kindergarten. You don’t get homework until Friday.

10. I’m waiting for __________ to go to bed…or to get out of the bathroom.

11. You didn’t tuck me in.
Yes, I did.
But I don’t remember.

12. You didn’t hug me.

13. I can’t find my ___________________(insert current favorite plushie friend). I can’t sleep without him.

14. The cat keeps jumping on me.
Ummm, Shadow is here hiding behind my keyboard and Tiger is out in the garage. Nice try.

15. My brother won’t stop talking. He keeps calling me Idiot.

16. That show your watching..it’s my favorite.
It’s the news.
I know. I love the news.

17. I’m not sleepy.

18. I just want to know who you are talking to on Facebook. Will you say Hi for me?

19. I just wanted to know what you are doing.

20. I forgot to tell you that I love you.

21. What are we doing tomorrow?

Basketball Mama Woes

2009-01-24T22:35:00.003-06:00

Today was a tough day for my little basketball player. He would resent that I called him little but if you saw his team mates and the other players, its a fitting description. He is the shortest, scrawniest player on his team. However, there are other ballers who are as short as he is on other teams so that is some consolation to both of us.

When it is his time to play, the coach matches players by size, so BB is matched up with other short players. However, sometimes that is not good because these other little guys can really hustle and BB has a hard time keeping up with them. And I have come to realize that my boy is not an aggressive player, nor is he terribly energetic. He sort of meanders his way down the court, sort of shuffling along, while the coach is shouting, "BB Hustle!"

Basketball, I have also come to realize, is far more complicated than I had ever realized. It takes a lot of concentration and focus. Not only does the baller have to know where the basketball is, he has to know where his person to guard is and keep a handle on the other players as well as make a play to pass, rebound or shoot. It's fast paced and there are lots of skills.

My realization today is that it may be too much for my kid. However, we have another month of practices and games and I want him to finish because I do believe that it is a good lesson to finish what you start and he is learning a lot about being on a team, even if he is not the best player.

Oh but my heart was aching for him today. He was struggling so much. He just could not get his head in the game and his team mates where giving him directions about where to stand. At times he looked confused then he looked frustrated and embarrassed. I had tears in my eyes and I wanted to run over and scoop him up and make it better for him. However, I also realized that my Mom-reaction would not make it better. This was one of those things that I was going to have to let him just tough out.

At one point, he actually got the ball and was dribbling away. But he started heading toward the other team's basket. His team started yelling at him, "Wrong way...wrong way." And he dropped the ball and slid across the floor. When he got up, his cheeks were red hot. I tried to make eye contact with him but he just looked down at the floor.

The game lasted only about 1 more minute. He came over and I could tell he still looked upset. I wrapped my arms around him and said, "Everyone makes mistakes. It's OK."

He just shook his head and walked out. I know I can't make it better. I can't make him a better basketball player. I can't make his team mates like him more. The only thing I can do is tell him that I believe in him and that I am proud of him no matter what.

I caught up with him outside and got down to his eye level, "Sweetheart, maybe you aren't the best basketball player and that is OK. But I am proud of you. You go to every practice and every game. You work hard. You keep trying. You have perseverence. Sometimes other kids only see the scoreboard but I see the effort and I see the changes inside you. And that is what is really going to count."

2009-01-22T20:19:00.003-06:00

I am not a very good sick person. To be more accurate, I am not a very good recovering from sickness person. At least I know that I am getting better when I start getting really irritable. I am embarrassed to say, my behavior is not pleasant or particularly mature.

After a day of spewing from every exit, my body is aching. I told my kids my vomit muscles hurt. They laughed. I still feel tired and easily fatigued on top of being very crabby. I spent yesterday on the couch fading in and out of a show on the Sci Fi channel. I had two people ask me if I ate tainted Peanut Butter. Ha ha.

I set my alarm but apparently in my fevered, and foggy state, I did not set it to the correct am/pm designation. My alarm clock is rather goofy anyway. It is cool in the fact that it sets the time itself just by being plugged in and doesn't do that 12:00 blinky thing if the power goes out. However, for some reason, I can't always get it set to the correct time zone nor can I get it to be on the correct am/pm setting. When I am thinking clearly, I know that I have to have it set to the opposite of what it should be on a non-goofy clock. But when I am sick, I can't think like that. So, I had set my alarm to the correct time but forgot about the weird am/pm glitch.

I woke up from a weird dream about calling in to work, back when I worked at the Regional Treatment Center, only in my dream, I couldn't figure out who I was supposed to call and no one I tried calling would tell me the correct person or would tell me that I needed to call another number and in the meantime, the start of my shift had begun and now I was a "no call/no show" and was completely humiliated... So, when I stirred out of this panicky dream, I looked at the clock and realized it was 6:40am and I needed to get my daughter off to school. She apparently fell asleep on the couch and when I woke her, told me that she had been up and in the bathroom a good deal of the night.

Good...go back to sleep. You're staying home.

And I went back to bed. I called my supervisor, told her I would be in later, reset my alarm and went back to bed to have more weird dreams.

The next time I woke up, I looked at the clock, realizing that again, my alarm had not gone off. It was 8:50am and I needed to get the boys ready. PH has a concert today and needs to wear black pants and a white shirt. He insisted on wearing his black running pants.

Fine. They are black. Here's a white shirt. Let's go.

BB and Princess are playing Playstation and I have to demand they shut it off and now is when things get ugly. Is it my kids fault that I did not set my alarm correctly and thus overslept? Is it their fault that we are now running late? Is it their fault that because of my sickness yesterday, two of them left their backpacks at the babysitter's and no amount of cajoling or yelling was going to produce them?

And yet, all that proceeded out of my mouth was harsh, ugly words of "Get going. NOW."

Peanut is in tears. BB is harumphing around as slowly as he can, making angry faces at me. PH is pouting at me and trying his hardest to tie his boots with minimal success. And yet, the verbal tirade continues. Every single thing in the house is getting on my nerves. The mud on the floor that was tracked in yesterday by the guys who came to fix my door knob. The wrapper from a cereal bar that someone has yet again neglected to get into the garbage that is 6 inches away...

I can't take it. Finally, I get everyone into the car and I do believe just about everyone was either in tears or fuming mad and I get them to school. BB blurts out, "I think we are going to be late. It's 9:24"

"You have 1 minute to get in that door. You are fine. Now Go."

What a pleasant way to start the day.

So, after this, I head over to the gas station and pick up some Sprite for my daughter and then I head home. I did the dishes and that, surprisingly, made me feel better. It was one thing I could accomplish. I also took a very long, hot shower and got ready for work.

I realized that I am still not 100% up to par when I had been at work for a couple of hours and realized that I really needed a nap and was counting down the minutes until I could head home. However, what waited for me at home was a 2nd grade choir concert, dinner and 4 kids. Hardly the rest I need. And my kids will attest that I continued to be very crabby.

My stellar quote of the evening, while I looked for a parking place at the school, was "BB, I don't need you to gripe because I am griping sufficiently for all of us."

As soon as it flew out of my mouth, I knew that I was in a state of severe distress and not completely in control. As one of my client's calls it "No social filter".

So Much for a Day of Rest

2009-01-18T20:46:00.003-06:00

Sunday was crazy. So crazy it deserves a capital letter, Crazy. But I think I need to back up just a bit because some of my Sunday crazy is left over from Saturday. Saturday night consists of the usual attempt to get everybody bathed. Sometimes I am more successful than other times. This time was not one of those times. I ran to the store to pick up a few things I had not been able to get earlier on our Bi-weekly Shopping Extravaganza and to return our Redbox DVD's (there is just only so much I can take of 4 kids in Sam's Club and Walmart before I am ready for my quiet room and medication). I told my daughter to get herself into the ...note the key word...Shower while I was gone so that when I got back home in 15 minutes, I could get the boys into the shower.

I enjoyed my 15 minutes of peace and quiet in the grocery store and came home to find the boys playing on the Playstation and they informed me that Princess was upstairs in the bathroom. I went up to see how she was doing to discover that she had decided to take a bath. She assured me that it would be a quick bath. However, this girl does not take "quick baths" and I had to encourage her...several times and with greater intensity...to get out. By this time, it is 9:30pm and I get PH and Peanut showered with no problems other than a firm reminder from Peanut that he is out of Jammie pants (because he insists he can only wear his PJ's one time before they are dirty and yet he can wear his favorite shirt for 3 days in a row if I let him).

BB is next in line. He begins to fuss and fight. And whine. And grumble. And complain. I decide that this is not a hill I am willing to die on, on this day, and state that he will take a shower first thing in the morning.

He agrees but I know him well enough to know that this will not be as simple as it sounds to the naked ear. The boy likes to fight about bathing, as if it is a shower of acid I am forcing him in to instead of mere soap and water. Sometimes he will playfully yell out, "It burns...it burns..." And I tease back, "Honey, that is just the yuck coming off. The germs are upset that they must un-inhabit your body but soon, the soap will take over and all will feel good again. And you will smell better." He giggles.

Sunday morning rolls around and I went down to the kitchen to fix a salad I would need for the last stop in our adventure. I informed him that the shower was impending in "T minus 10 minutes". He begins to grumble. I have learned, because I am smart and adaptable, and from many a similar battle and several sessions in therapy, that this is merely part of the dance and not to get upset when he starts to gripe.

Things did not go smoothly. Everyone was tired and everyone needed coaxing to get up and get dressed. PH argued with me about his church attired. He insisted that jeans make his legs too cold so he should be able to wear sweat pants. I insisted that on Sunday morning, I get to choose his wardrobe but in the afternoon, he could change. We did not even require a notary to witness that agreement but it took several minutes to strike it. Peanut does better with picking appropriate church clothes. He is all about solid colors these days. And he likes to wear 1 color. Unless it is his favorite green striped shirt which he insists is Everyone's Favorite. Thankfully, it was clean. But then he struggled with getting his pants buttoned.

Princess has wardrobe issues as well. She has a severe lack of appropriate clothing for church. She has grown a lot this year and no longer fits in the girl's section of the store and yet the styles in the juniors department are not appropriate nor are they too her taste. Not to mention we have to figure out what her size is. It took a while to find an outfit. I picked out her very cute sweater with a nice white T-shirt under it but she fussed because "you can see my bra". I should not complain about her modesty. I should celebrate it because quite frankly, there are too many girls showing bra straps and thongs these days who would not be offended when their mothers suggest that the sweater will cover it up just fine.

Now I am finally getting myself ready. Then I have to look for socks. I am several days past due for laundry so...I had to look for slightly less dirty socks for the boys to wear. Everyone was fussing and dragging their feet as we try to get out the door. I generally try to leave the house at 9am so that we have time for donuts before church. It's my incentive for getting everyone ready on time. We did not get out the door until 9:25 so I declared that I would be passing out cereal bars and there would be NO DONUTS this morning and that this was a consequence of everyone being so UNCOOPERATIVE with me.

In the middle of this, Someone, and no one seemed to know which Someone, took PH's gift out of it's packaging. There were two suspects but neither would confess. I had to let it go of that and find a way to salvage the situation for PH. And we did with a minimal amount of yelling and no bloodshed or bruising.

Fast-forward through church. Lunch at McDonald's. My kids, sadly, have become quite particular about their food. I ask them what they want but I should not really bother. It's the same...Princess and BB want Double Cheeseburgers with NO PICKLES and NO ONIONS (or else!!), PH wants Chicken Nuggets and Peanut wants a burger with EXTRA PICKLES....I try to tease the cashier and ask for a Pickle Burger. Sometimes they laugh. Today, the cashier was new or a little low on IQ points because she did not get anything right.

I told my kids, who started to fuss about it, that they would need to deal with it politely and if they did, there would be ice cream. Isn't it interesting that I got no complaints? I thought so too. I highly recommend using the strategy of denying them ice cream for months at a time so that when you really, really need it, you can offer this incentive and it is very effective.

After lunch, we began our Crazy afternoon. First stop, Home. PH reminded me that I promised he could change into sweat pants that do not make his legs cold the way jeans do. Peanut needed to get his winter gear so he could go to his Tubing party at Ecko Baken. I needed to change out of my church clothes and I Highly Recommended that everyone use the bathroom before we left or they would be holding it for a quite a while. Some followed my advice, some did not. But the Did Not's now know why I Highly Recommended and hopefully, a lesson was learned.

Next Stop, Scandia and Ecko Baken to drop off Peanut. He looked both excited and slightly terrified. It's a good sign that he is going to have a good time. I hug and kiss him and tell him I will see him a couple of hours.

Next stop, Oakdale to Pump It Up to drop off PH. En Route, BB broke his lego creation and was screaming his head off, which was punching through my skull like an iron spike because he couldn't get it back together. I suggested that if he waited until I got to Pump It Up, I could take a look at it and he screamed, "What can YOU do about it? You never ever LOOKED at the directions?"

Now I am insulted and my migraine is flaring up and I would like nothing better than to stop the car, and break his lego creation into tinier pieces with a haughty, "There! How do you like that?" But, I am the grown-up and have more restraint than to act upon my impulses and I tried very hard to stay patient and kind while every ear piercing scream drove the spike of pain deeper into my head, moving down my face, over my eye and settling into my teeth.

I snapped, "You know what, screaming at me is not going to change anything!! All it does is make me angry. "

He answers, "I don't care!"

I reply, "I don't care either."

That was really mature I know. Migraine headaches and 3 hours in the car is enough to drive any mother to the brink.

But the kid got real quiet after that. He made a few more squeaks about his legos. But the screaming stopped. I don't recommend the method even if it was effective.

Next stop, back up to Ecko Baken to pick up Peanut. He is slowly eating cake and ice cream and looking sad. Apparently, he got forgotten in the group and had to find another way in to the building. He was also mad at me because I left and I was supposed to stay. However, I explained to him that I was invited to stay but I had told the parents I could not because I was driving his brother to another party.

Next stop, back down to Pump It Up to pick up PH. He is excited. He declares, "I want to come here for my birthday!"

Next stop, Eagle's Nest in New Brighton. The kids can play and I can have some adult conversation. My head is still pounding but I am distracted for a while.

Finally, at 8pm, we arrive home. Whew!

9pm...the door knob from the garage to the kitchen falls off. Terr-if-ic.

The Writing Process

2009-01-13T13:19:00.000-06:00

Writing a book, I have decided, is very different then writing a blog. It may have something to do with the subject matter. My blog is about the daily stuff of life. My book is about a specific period of time in my life that is wrought with emotion. I can not get it out of my head. I HAVE to write it. I know that, just like I know I have to breathe 12 times a minute, give or take. And like breathing, I have only some amount of control over it. It is a very strange thing.

I am currently stuck. I was thinking about it today on my way to work. And of course, as I thought about it, the tears just flowed out of me. I realized that crying is also part of my cathartic process. Sometimes there is so much emotion tied in with these events that tears are the only outlet I have left. I have worked through the anger and the grief, for the most part. Those emotions are not the primary issues any more. Tears are indicators, to me anyway, that I still have emotional ties to my memories and to the wounds I have healed from.

The part I am stuck on is the day that I physically left the state of Texas, my husband, my house and my friends. A door to that part of my life slammed shut. Reality began to sink in. But how do I describe it? Most of it, I do not even remember. It is a blur of highway miles, scenery, drowsy conversation and one poignant epiphany moment.

I realized that I have not spent a lot of time reliving this day. I have walked through my last week in Texas, from the moment I learned of the abuse my husband was enacting upon my 5 year old daughter, through the reporting process at the police station, the rape kit at the hospital and the interview with Child Protection. I have replayed all of those moments in my head so many times in the last 6 years. I have tried to dissect and understand every piece of what happened. What did I miss? Did I handle it right? What did I say? What did I do? How did it feel?

I had to do that. HAD TO. It was how I worked through my grieving process. It was how I made my decisions about how I would move forward, what I would tell my children and how I would live the rest of my life. That week was when I stopped being a victim and started surviving.

I think there were important things that happened in the 1200 miles between Dallas and St. Paul. Clearly, not every mile was crucial. I can not remember every detail. I just have not thought about it much. If I were sitting in my therapist’s office, I am pretty sure she would ask me why. So, I will ask myself that question.

Even though I was with my parents, I felt utterly alone. I was safe but I was scared. Actually, I was terrified. I had no idea what I was going to do from that day forward. Everything in front of me, for the first time in my life, was a complete and utter blank. I had nothing but 3 children and 1 squirming inside me, the clothes on my back and $500.

The only thing I was certain of was that I had to get out of Texas. I could not feel safe in the same state as my husband, the abuser of my child. A few weeks later, I would realize that he was my abuser too. My feelings of panic were part of that reaction to being abused and now I was yanking myself out of a situation that although it was extremely unhealthy, it was predictable. I did not know if I could do it.

It is a very good thing that I was not driving because I am fairly certain, I would have either turned the car around or I would have stopped many times on the side of the road. Instead, I was able to let someone else literally take the wheel for a while and drive me away and keep me going in the direction I needed to go, even though I was afraid of what lay ahead.

As I think about this writing block I have, I think it may be that there is not much “action” to describe compared to the whirlwind I had just gone through. This section of my story is more reflective and is more about feelings, impressions and remembering with a little bit of planning and then a lot of “dawning realizations” about the hard road ahead of me.

Perhaps this experience of writing about it is not so much about what words I find to describe the events of my life but the process I go through to put them into place and make them make sense again. Catharsis and healing.

The Pre-reader

2009-01-12T13:27:00.002-06:00

Peanut is really picking up his letter recognition and is trying to make sense of the letters he does see. It is really a lot of fun listening to him as he identifies letters he sees.

This past weekend while we were driving down the road, he saw this sign and starting telling me that "P is for 'people'" and if that is the case then he inferred, "That sign means that No People can be on the road."

Reflections on the Weekend

2009-01-12T11:53:00.002-06:00

I could deny it no longer. The boys look like they have hair growing out of their ears, Princess must have a set of beautiful blue eyes under those bangs...but my wallet and tight budget as well as 2 kids with birthdays, cannot support $60 for hair cuts. So, I had to pull out my clippers and scissors. I will admit that I am a bit rusty.

OK...OK...Very rusty.

I'm actually very embarrassed for PH. He suffered the worst at my inept attempt with the clippers. However, I will not solely carry the blame. He is very impatient and very wiggly. He also has the thickest head of hair. Its fabulous and I love it but it is a brute to cut nicely. Not like my two toe-heads. I had to cut his hair twice, it was so bad. I managed to somewhat salvage it but there are still some patches where I got a little too close. I could pretend that he got in to the clippers or that his brother did. But that is not a good example is it? Maybe I should be the one to put the paper bag over my head for the next few weeks until it grows out a bit.

I look at his cute little face with his Jack-o-lantern grin and then I see the almost-bald patches and I start to chant to myself, "It's only hair...it will grow back...It's only hair...It will grow back..."

Peanut's hair was not cooperating too much either but he was completely OK with me just buzzing his whole head. He looks so darn cute when it's that short anyway. When BB looked at Peanut, and I was struggling with two miserable attempts at boy haircuts, I offered to buzz it and BB said, "I do not want to look like Peanut!"

I had to try and not make the same mistakes. Apparently, by the third haircut, I had made significant improvements because BB's hair looks really good, for an amateur.

Princess let me cut her bangs and yes, she has eyes!! But my sister and I were playing with her hair and discussing it. My sister, Desert Bloom, pointed out that Princess's hair is very much like her hair, thin and easily splits but great in quantity! And Princess also has the two cowlicks that Desert Bloom has too. Poor thing. When Princess was a baby and had very little hair, her hair all went forward and no amount of coaxing my part could make it look feminine, not to mention, it was very straight. Even if I put a bow on her head, she looked boyish. At least when her hair is long, it pulls the cowlicks down.

But my sister and I sighed together as we looked at Princess's hair and I looked at how much her hair was breaking and how badly it tangles all the time. I realized that it has to be cut. There is just no other way. Princess was sad to hear it but it is not the first time we have cut her hair short due to split ends. Her only comment to me, "Mom, just try to cut it straight this time."

It's like she knows me or something.

Smarty-pants.

I cut off about 5 inches. It was a battle to get her hair to lay nice because of those cowlicks. I have a friend who is a beautician and she gave me a couple of pointers for cutting Princess's hair. She told me to never cut it wet but always cut it dry. So, I think I managed OK. It looks so cute when it's short.

Princess said to me later, "Mom, maybe now that my hair is short, we can curl it with the curling iron."

I have been waiting for this day. Is it wrong to be thankful for split ends? Let's just keep that between us.

Friday Sick Day

2009-01-09T10:38:00.002-06:00

I am home with 3 out of 4 children. Poor little Peanut tried, unsuccessfully, to convince me that he too must be sick and must also need to stay home. I think he is afraid he is missing out on something good. I had to have a little heart-to-heart with him about how we need to go to school and cannot stay home just because every one else is...and then I bribed him with a treat from the gas station on the way to school. I whispered it in his ear to make it extra special. It lit a fire under him and he was ready to get ready.

Before all of this occurred however, I was lounging in bed, rather enjoying the extra time to rest that having 3 sick children was going to bring me. Peanut woke up and then came and snuggled up to me in my bed. Next thing I knew he was laying on top of me, as I lay on my side. I started to rub his back and he just burrowed into my shoulder. It was the sweetest way to wake up.

I had a strange thought however. I have a queen-sized bed all to myself and yet, I continue to find I sleep on only one half of it. Is it because old habits die hard? Is it because this is where the alarm clock and the lamp is?

Thursday

2009-01-08T19:44:00.002-06:00

I feel like today was a waste of a very good hair day. Doesn't that sound girly? And maybe a little bit vain. It's true though. I don't know what I did differently today but somehow, my hair just fell into all the right places, had the right amount of lift and movement and just looked good.

It feels like a waste because halfway through my work day, I got the Dreaded Call from the nurses office. BB threw up and was now in her office and she needed me to come get him.

Sometimes, I am embarrassed to say, I do not say the right thing.

Are you sure he is sick? I mean he could just be very tired. He was up kind of late, goofing around on the video games.

Thankfully, the nurse and I have gotten to know each other quite well and I don't think my stupid question insulted either her, her assessment or position as Keeper of All Healthy Things in the Elementary School.

Did you take his temperature? Maybe if he doesn't have a fever, he can just stick it out.

As the Mom, RN, there are days when I am positively brilliant. (please note the sarcasm and tone I take with myself.) However, I was in a dilemma. I was at work, in the middle of a training on how to use my tablet. And my usual Go-To guy, Grandpa, is in the hospital recovering from surgery. My Mom is busy taking care of him and my sisters are also back at work. What am I to do? I also have two client appointments to do. It's not so easy to just drop everything and run off to pick up a sick child from school... a child I suspect is not really sick.

Shame on me. Maybe he really is. It isn't like him to pretend to be sick. And he did throw up. Even if he doesn't have a fever, he can't stay in school or take up the bed in the nurses office. I do give the nurse a lot of credit. She is very patient and accommodating. I have worked with several different school nurses and I know that there are a few who would demand that I get there at "half past an hour ago" or sooner and wouldn't care about my issues.

I told her that I had to finish this training and then I would come. I called my supervisor and let her know what was going on. I also talked to one of the case managers about her client that was one of my appointments. I also said I could do a little bit of my paperwork from home.

After picking up my son, who did look a little peeked, I pulled out my tablet and started doing some of my work. I had been at work no more than 10 minutes when I get a phone call from the nurse. Now PH was in her office with the same complaints. However, he is unable to vomit due to his surgery. So, I get back in my car and drive back to the school, while calling my supervisor.

They're dropping like flies...

So, it looks like I will be home with 2 sick boys. They are not lethargic but they are crabby. I would be happier with lethargy.

This is one of my biggest struggles with being a single parent. There are many difficulties. Parenting children is, in my book, intended to be a two person job. When it falls on only one parent, the burden more than just doubles. I don't know how else to explain it. I think it is like a team of oxen. One ox can pull a large weight alone, but a team of oxen because they are yoked together and work as a team can pull 3-4 times the weight that one ox can. The single parent is like that one ox trying to pull the weight of a team.

What is a single parent supposed to do when her children are sick? I only accrue so much sick leave and vacation. Yet, my job has responsibilities as well that while they can sometimes be shifted to others temporarily, it is not good to have to always shift them. I am fortunate in that I have a job that is extremely flexible and I have relationships built with my clients that they will allow me some latitude in moving appointments around. A day like today, I feel torn apart. My children need me, work needs me.

And now I feel the headache and the stomach ache coming on. I am probably getting sick too. There is no one here to take care of me. It could be a long, long weekend.

A Year Reviewed

2009-01-06T13:28:00.003-06:00

I read a lot of other people's blogs and I will readily admit that I will borrow ideas from their blogs when I hit a dry spell. I read one this morning about reviewing the past year. I find that I am currently in a very reflective mood, so this idea is quite suitable to me. So, I am going to review 2008 and the things I did and learned.

In January, I learned that "Breaking up IS hard to do" but it is necessary and sometimes it is harder when it is all in your head then when you actually do it. But maybe I could have done it in person rather than over Instant Messenger. For that, I admit to a moment of Chicken-ness. Actually, I did not break off with NY in person because I was becoming increasingly wary of him and his response to me. I was not sure what he would do, how he would react and I was growing afraid. It turned out that I did have good reason to be wary because a few months later, when I decided to move out of the Forest Lake house and sever that financial tie to him as well, he began to threaten me and leave me nasty messages on my cell phone. Then in October, he had me served with papers for a lawsuit for back rent, repairs and various other monies he feels I owe him. Some I would agree with and some I would not. So, I think that perhaps breaking up via IM was the wiser course of action.

I learned that my family loves me very much but have a very weird sense of humor when my mother declared that I would be on a "Man-atorium" until further notice and the details of this declaration were slowly being developed as she went along, the rules added as she saw fit. And I learned in October, as did my sisters much to their surprise, that they will be the ones who will decide that the Man-atorium is lifted and I will be free to date again.

My Grandmother surprised me several times throughout the year by helping me financially. She really wanted me to get out of the FL house, so she gave me the money I needed for a deposit and first month's rent. Later in the year, she paid off two of my school loans. She is a real inspiration to me. She too was married to an abusive man, divorced him and went back to school as an older adult. She has risen above her challenges and is a very remarkable woman.

My children surprised me by adapting quite well to changing schools at the end of the school year. We started at Oneka Elementary right after Spring break in April. I learned later that there was a lot of information I missed out on as far as my daughter's transition to middle school but it all worked out in the end.

We had a bumpy summer in which I had to really pinch pennies, make very tough choices and learn some tough lessons about the importance of budgeting. I am still recovering from that but I have learned a lot of valuable things from that experience and even as hard as it was, I can't ignore the changes that have been made in me. However, I have come to realize that changing yourself, developing new habits and breaking bad habits does not happen over night. It takes a long time. It is hard to be diligent and easy to be lazy.

In spite of that hard stuff, we had a lot of fun. We learned how to do a lot of exciting things that don't cost money. We explored several lakes, found some good ones, and some bad ones. We played in the pool. Peanut learned to swim and ride his bike. The kids earned free passes to Bunker Beach by reading books and we had a great time there.

I also learned that my children have great capacity for naughtiness and I have gotten to know the Sheriff's department a little too well. But there were blessings that came out of nightmarish situations even with that. I met resourceful people who helped me find a great babysitter for my kids, that all of my children adore and she is fair in her prices and flexible, as well as easy to talk to. I have made contacts within my office for resources to help me out with my ADHD son and getting help with some of his more difficult behaviors.

I have made new friends, strengthened old friendships, and gotten in touch with people from my past and have friendships that are rekindled. My sister has moved back to MN from Nevada and it is so nice to have all of my family within 15 minutes of my home.

My kids are growing and healthy. Only one needed surgery but that seems to have corrected the problem. He has had to learn how to eat slightly differently and we have discovered that the doctor was correct that he cannot burp or throw up, so this does cause him discomfort but if he slows down when he eats, eats smaller amounts of food and has a couple of snacks during the day, he is doing fantastic. My daughter has, as of last night, lost all of her baby teeth.

BB joined a basketball team and loves to go to practice and to his games and we are enjoying watching him play and cheer. He has the most cheerleaders on just about any given game day!

My baby sister got married. I played the triangles during her wedding march and read scripture during the ceremony. I missed her vows because Peanut had to "Go RIGHT NOW" but I got to see PH and Princess really cut a rug on the dance floor!

We were given two turkeys this year. One was HUGE and I remembered to take out the neck before stuffing it but I had to run it under hot water in order to get the neck out since it was so big, it was still partially frozen.

I learned how to make Turkey Wild Rice soup and Bullwinkle Chili.

I have laughed a lot. I have cried, thankfully, I have laughed more. Overall, it was a really good year.

Bittersweetness

2009-01-06T10:57:00.001-06:00

My little peanut is really a sweetie. I wish his brothers could see what a darling he is but they see him as the annoying little brother who sings or talks incessantly and not the cutie who is imaginative, inquisitive and energetic. To them, he is the Destroyer of Lego Creations, Inept at All Playstation Games and The One Who Cannot Speak Correctly.

Someday, I pray, they will see him differently.

Today, I caught a glimpse of his heart and it touched me deeply and as I thought about it, once again, I arrived at work with my make-up a mess and my eyes red from crying.

Over the last few weeks, he has been mentioning my ex-fiancee’ a lot. Or as he is known in our house “The One Who Shall Not Be Named”. BB is very adamant that there is to be NO discussion EVER about him. Clearly, we have all been hurt and we each have to deal with our pain in our own way. BB would like to forget he ever existed. PH never talks about him. Princess just sighs sometimes. Peanut tries to bring him up and shares his memories, only to be shot down by BB with a sharp, “You must not talk about him. Ever.”

I had an opportunity last week to talk with BB a bit about Peanut and some of the things that Peanut will have to deal with. Peanut has never met his real Dad and because his Dad is in prison for a very long time and most likely will not be up for parole until Peanut is grown up, a meeting is not going to happen. PH was pretty much a baby when we fled from Texas. So, he has very little memory of his Dad but he does have pictures. But even though Peanut has never met Dad, I explained, does not mean he does not feel sad about it. It does not mean he does not feel the loss too. In some ways, he may feel it more or at least very differently because he has never known his father.

So, my fiancee’ was the closest thing Peanut had to experiencing what life could be like with a Dad. And in “The One Who Shall Not Be Named’s” defense, he was very loving to Peanut (not so much with BB or PH). So Peanut did develop a bond. And because he was just 5 when I broke the engagement and BB was so adamant that this was never to be discussed in his presence, Peanut has not really processed the grief.

Over the last few weeks, he has said things to me like “NY (the other nickname) loves Jesus now, Mommy.” He knows that this is a serious requirement for a relationship with me. I thought that was sweet.

Darling, NY always loved Jesus. That was not the issue. He did not know how to love us and treat us all kindly. He did and said things that hurt Mommy and it was not a good relationship. I know it hurts.

Then this morning, Peanut woke up before any of his brothers and he and I got some Mom to Boy time. He mentioned TOWSNBN again. So, I asked him if he was missing him.
“No. Not really.”

Well, sweetie, if you do miss him, it’s OK. He was very sweet to you and I know you really loved him and were sad that he left.

“Mommy, I don’t like that my Dad went to jail.”

And there is the dagger that stabs me in the heart every time.

Aww, baby. I know. It’s a hard thing. You were born here in MN and your Dad was in TX. You never got to meet him. That is a sad, sad thing.

So, maybe in his 6 year old way, he is moving through his grieving process. I am also trying to help my other kids understand that grief and loss is not the same for everybody. We all have lost the same person but our experiences with him are very different and our feelings are different too. We can’t, therefore, tell each other that they can’t feel this or they can’t feel that or throw it in each other’s face that they never met him.

Am I doing a good job in explaining this to them? I hope so. I think it is good that I am even making an attempt. It is hard for me to choke back my own pain and grief to deal with theirs. I have come a long way. There would have been a time when I would not have been able to have had this kind of conversation with any one of my children without bursting into tears and running from the room or without feeling anger boiling up inside of me. Today, what I felt was the sadness in my little boy.

I would do anything to take that pain away. I can’t do that, I know. But if I could, I would in a heart beat. So, instead, I will just hold his hand and help him walk through it.

I realized this last week that I have healed a great deal because I find that I am better able to handle the pain and sadness of others. I can take my eyes off of myself more and more. Last week, a friend of mine lost his dog when he was hit by a car. When I found out about it, I was overwhelmed with sadness for my friend. I wanted to just run over and wrap myself around him and his two sons and take away the pain. I don’t know how many times I cried for my friend and his grief over his dog. I pondered it for days. Why did I cry this much over an animal I had only met a few times? He was a sweet dog that was sure. But he was not my pet. I finally figured out it was the pain my friend was going through. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to take that pain away or do whatever I could to make it better.

It still confused me for a while. This was some very powerful emotion for me. And it was bothering me because I have not felt so deeply about other people in such a long, long time. My sisters told me a year ago, when I broke up with TOWSNBN, that I still had healing to do because I was still throwing myself into situations where I really did not belong, doing things that were not healthy for me and making decisions that were not good. They worried about me. This was why my Mom put the “Man-atorium” in place and gave the key to my sisters—to protect me and build in some accountability for my decisions. I can’t jump into a relationship or even go on a date unless I have the permission and the “man-atorium” lifted by my sisters. I chuckled at first, when my Mom told me about it. I thought it was cute. Then as time went by and I realized she was serious, I was kind of mad about it. How dare they do this to me? I am 37 (and a half), surely I can make decisions about my life and who I can and want to date.

When I search my heart and look back, I sigh, and realize, they are right. I have not had a great track record. I have reacted and been impulsive and ignored my good judgement. I let emotion rule over good sense and intuition.

How does this tie in to my son’s grief and crying over my friend’s dog? I think it has to do with a change that has occurred in me over the past year. I am healing at a different level now. I have moved from being very self-centered and self-focused to being able to see others outside of myself and the things that are going on with them.

Does this mean I am going to cry over every sad story someone tells me? I don’t think so. But I do think that it means that God has a plan for me and it extends beyond my own skin. He wants me to see others. He wants me to be able to feel the hurts of others. He wants me to be able to reach out and offer comfort to those who are hurting because that is what He provided to me when I needed it the most. The table is turning and I am moving out of one who is in a constant state of need to becoming a person who can meet the needs of others.

I think I am going to cry again. And I am totally OK with that.

I almost forgot...One more

2009-01-05T18:28:00.003-06:00

I will develop all of my 35mm film which includes the 16 rolls in my desk drawer, the 2 disposable cameras and any further rolls of film I may take this year. I currently have 8 rolls of film that I can load up in my camera and shoot away.

I miss my digital camera. But I can't say that I hate my SLR...it takes awesome pictures. And someday, I will switch over to a digital SLR.

Resolutions…

2009-01-05T10:55:00.002-06:00

I don’t know if I really like making resolutions. But I do like turning the page on the calendar and feeling like I have a chance to start fresh. Instead of making resolutions, which seem to be made on January 1 and fall apart by January 10, I have been thinking about things I would like to work on or do differently this year.

I have been listening to some people on the radio talk about how to set goals that are more likely to be achieved. The first is to be Realistic. The second is to be Specific. This did get me thinking and I changed my stance on “My Resolution is to make no resolutions.”

**I will increase my level of healthiness by incorporating more veggies and fruit and less processed food into my diet. It means more cooking from scratch and more planning ahead. But that is not such a bad thing.

**I will increase my level of healthiness by getting more exercise and doing more active things with my kids. I take the stairs whenever possible, walk across the far end of the parking lot and run up and down the stairs at home, rather than making one of the kids fetch things for me. And I will use my pedometer. In the spring, I will take walks in the evening with the kids or bike rides.

**I will become more financially confident by being more mindful of my finances and applying the things I am learning about giving, saving and spending and setting a realistic budget. I have already started some very good behaviors like using cash for certain expenses like my daycare, gas and groceries. It keeps me in check.

**I will tithe regularly and have set my goal that I plan to achieve by the end of the year, with incremental increases planned through the year until I get there.

**I will save regularly following the same plan as my tithing.

**I will learn to relax about relationships and enjoy the friendships I have and try not to worry about whether or not I will find love and romance. I will quit mentally fighting my family’s “man-atorium” and accept that they are trying to protect me and help me heal and learn from my mistakes.

**I will continue to attend Bible study as it is offered at church and find a suitable guide to study on my own so that I can continue to grow spiritually.

**I will add devotions to our evening dinner routine.

I think that is a good list. I have covered spirituality, health, relationships and finances. I don’t think there is anything on that list that is not unreasonable or unrealistic. And since I have this down on paper, it will be interesting to see at the end of the year just how I did.

One Thing Resolved

2008-12-29T21:24:00.002-06:00

The wheels of justice turn slowly. I have been trying to contact the court about my speeding ticket and citation for expired tabs so I could find out what my fine is. However, each time I called, I was told that my citation was not in the computer yet because they were backlogged. Finally, today, I was able to find out.

$260.

After I picked my jaw up off the floor and my stomach off of my feet, I decided to take myself down to the other end of my building and speak to the court officer and see what that person could do. I figured at least I could explain the issue about my tabs and maybe get that taken off.

She gave me two options. I was not happy about either options. It was a tough choice.

#1: Pay $250 and make no moving violations or tab citations in 1 year and both would never show up on my record.

#2: Pay $145 for the speeding, admitting I was guilty of this misdemeanor moving violation which will go on my record for 5 years and the tab citation would be dropped.

If I had $250, I would gladly take option #1. However, I just don't have that kind of money. And I also feel like the tab citation was not entirely my fault. However, I was speeding and I was guilty of that. And I can cough up $145 but it will cost me a clean driving record.

Not an easy choice. I hate having to make decisions like this purely based on the financial aspects of it. Certainly Option #1 was the better deal if I could pull it off. But I just can't. I did however, walk away feeling significantly lighter than I did walking in. I had dealt with it. Maybe it wasn't the best choice but it was a choice and I will live with it. And the court officer gave me 30 days to pay the fine. That too made me feel better.

My legal issue is still hanging in the air. My attorney checked in with the court and found out that it has not been filed. I still fly under the assumption that No News is Good News but I also would like to get it resolved for better or worse, rather than sitting here in limbo waiting for the shoe to drop.

I pray that God would be merciful, as would my ex-fiancee' and just let the whole thing drop. If it can't be dropped, or won't be dropped, then some sort of settlement that I can handle can be arranged. However, I must continue to sit by and bide my time. I don't like waiting.

Christmas at my house

2008-12-26T19:06:00.003-06:00

Some funny snippets from my house as we waited for Christmas to arrive:

First there was the "Argument About How Many Days Til Christmas" between Princess and Banana Boy. We have this Snowman countdown calendar and this was the first year that I did not keep track of the days and passed the privilege of flipping snowflakes over to the kids. I was actually quite relieved to pass on this little duty. Every day of the entire week before the Big Day, the snowflake would flip back and forth between two numbers because Princess was counting the day we were on plus the remaining days whereas BB was counting only the days remaining. They bickered back and forth. Each time they passed the Snowman, they would grumble and flip the number to what they felt was correct. They tried to pull me in to settle their argument but did not like my stance of "Well, you both have good points and in a way, you are both correct."

BB told me on Monday, while we were out on an errand that there were exactly 65 hours left until Christmas. I was amazed that he took the time to count and that he was correct if you counted in that we would open gifts at 10am on Christmas morning. Then he said, "I cannot possibly wait THAT long."

Then there was the sorting and rearranging of the presents which I do believe was to actually count gifts. They even determined which gift they would open first. There were daily pleas to "Please, please, Can we open Just One gift early?"

Mom had a little subterfuge herself. I bought my kids one big present. I ordered it and had it shipped to my parents house so they never even saw a box come here. That was my first trick. Then to further create more fun, I came up with the idea of a Hide-and-Seek with clues and hidden gifts. Each child got one present to open with a clue inside and then had to go find the next present and bring it to the next kid on down to Peanut who had to ask his Aunts if they had the special gift. What amused me was that BB looked kind of annoyed during the game but then once he saw the gift which was a Playstation 2 with Lego Batman. He then kind of latched on to the box and did not let it out of his sight the rest of the gift opening time. Later on he told me how much fun it was to play Hide-and-Seek.

I think I succeeded in creating a memory.

So, today, as we sit in the aftermath of Christmas with wrapping paper shrapnel and cookie crumbs, my kids are busy building new creations out of legos and then playing games on their new game system.

BB then said to me, "Do you think that for next Christmas, which is in 364 days, we could get a Wii?"

Correction: BB informed me that it is Peanut who is asking for the Wii. However, I am pretty sure he is asking for it too!

Kids are soo funny

2008-12-18T20:29:00.002-06:00

One day, my oldest boy needed to get to choir practice at 8:30 because they had a very important concert and according to my son, "We are leaving at EXACTLY 8:30am! And if we are not there, the bus will leave without us."

However, this particular son, along with his other two brothers decided to poke along and drag their feet, so we finally got in the van at 8:28.

BB says, "Mom, I'm going to be late! Can't you just break some traffic laws or something?"

Ha, ha, ha! Very funny but no, dear boy, we can't break traffic laws.

We did discover that we live only 3 minutes away from school. He made it to school on time. He was able to go to the Very Important Concert.

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Peanut disappointed me by having "Below the Line" behavior and having to complete a "Fix It" form. He asked to go to the bathroom and instead went into the 4th grade class next door and took the window clings and hid them in his locker. It was a very sad moment for me.

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I got a call from the school nurse that started with, "Everything is fine... PH told me that his teeth were loose before..."He knocked heads with one of his buddies and knocked his wiggly tooth even looser. Pumpkin-head Pie face now officially looks like a Jack-o-lantern. I just giggle when he talks because has this funny little whistle through his new gap. He has another tooth right next door that is going to fall out any day. I told him that maybe he should have another collision with his friend and knock it right out.

He really didn't think I was that funny.

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Princess wrote out a list of all the Christmas Wishes on my kitchen white board.

Princess:
Game boy, Game boy games like Hello Kitty, Cat House, "Any other you think I would like", Bakugon little and big, camra, stuffd animals, D-rex, Wii and Wii games, Webkinz and Lil Kinz, Air Hogs and Internet

BB:
PS2 with 2 controllers, Lego Batman, Lego Starwars, Lego Indiana Jones, Mario Party 8

PH:
LEGO's, Webkinz/Lil Kinz

Peanut:
D-Rex, Spike the Dinosaur, Stuffed Animals, Webkinz/Lil Kinz

Mom:
New computer
Internet

I am sensing a theme here! Since I am BFF with Santa, I am pretty sure that my kids are going to be pretty happy on Christmas morning and while they may not get everything on their list, there are things on their lists that will be there.

What really makes me laugh is that I did not tell her anything about what I would like for Christmas. And the issue with the computer is that someone keeps picking off the keys on my laptop so there are about 10 keys missing. I have told the kids that until further notice, there will be no playing on my computer since they do not seem to know how to treat it well and no one wanted to come forward with their confession. I have my suspicions but nothing to substantiate it. And the internet is one of those things that I have told them is a luxury I have deemed a non-option at this time. I have a wireless internet card from work that is unlimited and can use my work laptop at home...there is no motivation for me to pony out more cash for internet so that they can play with their Webkinz. So, they will have to wait til they visit Grandma to care for their cyber pets.

So, what is on my list? Hmmm, I told someone that I would like hand towels because mine continue to disappear and turn up as bed linens for stuffed animals. To be debt-free would be fantastic but that is something that I am doing myself with a lot of hard work. Healthy children and a pleasant home to return to each night. Good friends, loving family. I think Santa has already visited me.

Apparently My Parental Threatening Was Effective

2008-12-17T10:43:00.001-06:00

Daughter got up with significantly less coaxing this morning. I did do a lot of prompting last night to make sure that she turned HER alarm on because the MOM ALARM would be out of commission.

When I went downstairs to begin the morning ritual of the Making of the Lunches…And No, I did not follow through on my good intention of preparing lunch bags ahead of time because I came home from work, after a harrowing drive home in the cold and blizzard-like conditions, topped off with the evening effects of Cold Accumulation with the Sneezing, Stuffy-head, Aches and generally feeling like Crud…I was counting down the minutes, even the seconds until I could shoo the children into their beds so that I could follow and burrow into mine.

To my surprise this morning, daughter had actually made her own sandwich and was getting herself ready to go WITHOUT prompting. She really does not want Mom to follow through on the Unexcused Tardy threat and No Free Rides.

Excellent….

Too bad this is not as motivating to the boys. I just can not seem to light a fire under them. I was really doing well today too. I had everyone dressed and downstairs at 7:30 and then BB remarked, “Why do we have to leave now? It’s too early.”

Rats. Can’t fool them anymore now that they can tell time.

So, we waited through an episode of George of the Jungle. And then proceeded to repeat the usual Mad Dash and Scurry to find Hats, Coats, Mittens, Backpacks and Shoes followed by “Did you grab your lunch off the counter?”

Then to upset the balance in my life even further, my garage door opener decides that it is going to work again. I believe it is because I have contacted the maintenance guy and he is going to have a pro come out and take a look. The same thing happened with my dishwasher. My appliances only act up for me but when repair people come, they are on their best behavior, making me look like a babbling idiot.

It is so true that Life is just not Fair. One things goes right, something else must go wrong.

Lessons in Parenting

2008-12-16T10:55:00.001-06:00

Sometimes it is so hard to balance my role as “Mom—the Do-er of All” and “Mom—Advocate for You Can Now Do This Yourself” (And You Will Whether You Like It Or Not From This Day Forward. Amen). I had a Moment today.

Dear Princess is hurling into puberty at a rate far faster than I am prepared for. I love that she still loves My Little Ponies and likes me to call her Princess and her favorite T-shirts have cats and say things like Rock Me-owt. There is still a little girl inside the body of this blooming teenager. But she has shown me the physical evidence that puberty is on our doorstep. Maybe she knows that I would not believe it if I did not see it with my own eyes. There are some things that girls can’t hide from their mothers and then there are things they can. I appreciate the fact that she wants to share the changes she is going through with me. It’s important. But it scares me and I think she is a little scared too. Aside from the physical changes, there are the emotional changes that show me she is growing up too. I have dubbed it the Moody Roller Coaster. We are strapped in and hitting the bumps, hills and valleys and WHOA…Was I like this? Yowzaa! Sorry Mom!

Anyway, she is a month from being 12 years old. She goes to Middle school. She needs to take on more responsibility for things. For example, if you are going to make a bag of microwave popcorn after school, I’m fine with that. It’s what it’s there for. But, do not just throw the empty bag behind the couch!! Seriously, I expect that (don’t confuse “Expect” with “LIKE”) from your younger hyperactive brothers who have the attention spans of fleas in a circus but you, daughter, can throw it away. And I expect you to do so. It is part of your responsibility and part of the privilege of being at home by yourself in the afternoon.

That is a side bar. The MOMENT we had was about getting up in the morning and getting ourselves ready. She and I share a room. I have determined that from 6 am until 6:45 am is “Mom time”. It’s when I take my shower, do my morning routine etc. I don’t take care of anyone but myself. After that, I focus on getting everyone else ready to go out the door. They get an hour of my morning. I get 45 minutes. I think it is more than fair. However, daughter seems to think that it is MY fault that she did not get up in time and was therefore going to miss her bus. We had a discussion about this.

OK. It was a lecture. You caught me.

I lectured her about this. She has an alarm clock. She can set it to wake herself up any time between 6 and 6:30 and have plenty of time to dress, fix her hair and eat breakfast. Instead, she lays in bed and I spend 30 minutes of my “ME TIME” trying to dry my hair and wake her up, going back and forth from the bathroom to her bed. Then she has the nerve…can you believe it…the NERVE…to be mad that she does not have enough time! And because I was not finished with drying my hair and did not have her lunch made, then she could not possibly go downstairs and start making a sandwich because she was TOO COLD and did not want to go ALONE.

Excuse me??

Things are changing for Princess. I informed her that she would get 1 free ride to school from me today. But after today, if she did not get herself up and ready to get out to the bus on time, then she would suffer the consequences. If she misses the bus, then she will miss school and it will be unexcused.

I am still thinking about that one. That was a threat from when I was growing up. It made sense for my parents to say that because their work was at the complete opposite end of the planet from my school and for them to drive me to school would mean they would be over an hour late for work. Whereas, I can drop my daughter off at school on my way to work and not be late. But I think the consequence should be that I don’t change a thing about my morning routine. I don’t rush the boys out the door to give us extra time in order to get her to school before the bell rings and if she is tardy, then she will have the consequence of being tardy and I will not go in to the office and sign her in and excuse her.

Hmmm. I like that better.

She was horrified when I told her of my new plan. So, I do think that she will shape up a little more now. And I think that I can do some things different in the evening to take some of the pressure off in the morning. I can put the lunches together in the evening so that all that needs to be done is to make sandwiches and put them in backpacks. She can make her own sandwich. And she will get herself up with her own alarm clock.

Remind me why I live in Minnesota??

2008-12-15T18:41:00.003-06:00

It was so unbelievably cold today. I forget when I am walking in a beautiful spring breeze, with the sound of birds chirping and dragon flies making kamikaze dives at my head, while my toes dance among the grass and dandelions that sometimes, it gets this cold here. Blech.

Getting my boys ready for school today took far longer than I remember it taking before and they are older now. I would have thought it would get easier once everyone was out of diapers and had a fully developed set of fine motor skills. And yet, I find that I am still putting boots on, tightening mittens, searching for hats, zipping zippers and making sure that everyone is going to have as little exposed skin as possible.

And add to that, it's Monday. If you have read my blog with any regularity, you will recall that Mondays are Jury Duty day and it means that county employees must park in Timbuktu or today, Iceland and hike to work. And since I now have a laptop computer that I must take home every night and bring back every morning, this compounds the number of burdens I must carry. So today, I walked from Iceland to my office carrying my laptop bag, my purse, a paper bag full of cookies and a box of Kleenex (because I have caught a cold over the weekend). My shoulders are hunched over so that I can tuck my ears into the folds of my hood on my wool coat. I have two pairs of gloves on my hands. I look like a big blue Emperor penguin shuffling across the frozen tundra with my egg on my feet, trying to keep it from dropping on the ice but in this case, I am trying to reach the door before 9 am without dropping anything or slipping upon my keister in front of the construction crew (and considering how cold it is and how I am sure they could use a good laugh, I would prefer that it would not be I who provided the morning guffaw). I am supposed to be at work by 8:30 but since the boys were non-cooperative and the roads were slippery, I adjusted my goal.

Winter is the great equalizer. Only on the cover of a magazine can a woman look polished and sophisticated in her winter wear. And that is because she is not actually standing outside when it is 14 Brrrr-low with a windchill of -28 and the threat of impending frostbite on her exposed skin, particularly, it would seem, upon her cleavage. Clearly, she has never been to Minnesota or she would know that we Minnesota women do not expose our cleavage. We barely show our chins in the winter. Occasionally, you might see an eye brow peeking out from under a hat or the tip of a nose from the top of the scarf we have fashionably swaddled around our necks in a noose-like fashion.

I dare say, my winter attire nor my goal for winter attire is ever to be "cute". Warm, yes. Functional, absolutely. Matching and coordinating, well, on a good day, sure. But at my house, if you can find two mittens that fit the correct hand then God-speed and you are out the door and I really don't care if one is purple and one is green or belongs to your sister and makes you look like a girl, you will be warm and you will live to see the frozen sun rise in the morning, so quit complaining while I tie this noose...errrr...scarf around your neck and kiss the tip of your nose before you go to school!

As I shiver away, and chip off the icicles that have formed beneath my nose, I remind myself that Minnesota has many wonderful qualities. Winter is just not one of our best. And yet, for some reason, I am willing to forgive the state every year and I stay. Maybe that is why God gave us the brains enough to invent hot cocoa and marshmallows. And don't forget the warm socks. I also really, really like my fireplace. Yup. Maybe that is why I like Minnesota. It's all the excuses I get for bundling up, staying inside, hanging out by the fire with a warm kid on my lap and watching movies in semi hibernation until the spring thaw.

Who's Idea Was This Anyway?

2008-12-14T16:32:00.002-06:00

This weekend I hosted my second annual Cookie Craziness...err...Exchange Party. I decided to try a new cookie. That was a big mistake. It looked real cute in the "Santa's Favorite Cookies" cookbook. Cookie candy canes. Simple ingredients. Simple directions. Or so I thought. Except that when I started to roll out the red and white ropes to twist together, I realized that the dough has to be cold or else the cookies get all gooey and lose their shape, becoming sloppy messes. And while I tripled the recipe, I still did not have enough cookies for everyone in the exchange.

So, I made another batch and put it in the fridge. But the longer the process took, the shorter my patience got. I tried to make a couple of cookie sheets with each kid but the process seemed to take more effort and my frustration level was escalating as the cookies turned to goo. I have come to realize that I am not going to be the cookie baking kind of Mom. I have already realized that while I am learning to enjoy cooking and baking, I much prefer them as solo activities.

I think some people have natural abilities with cooking and baking, to where it is almost second nature, so teaching and working with their children is fun and enjoyable. However, for me, it takes a great deal of concentration and sustained effort to cook. It's not that easy or natural for me, so my frustration level increases. I should accept that about myself. I have other gifts and abilities. There are other things that I can teach with far more patience and ease.

It does not mean I am a bad mother if I don't like to cook with my children. I will teach my children how to cook but individually and maybe small things. And I will choose cookies that are not as complicated. I seem to do this to myself in other things...I choose the hard patterns to cross-stitch...the hard quilt patterns...complicated scrapbook pages with fussy details. But I think with cookies...I should stick to the basics!

Peanut is 6!!!

2008-12-13T11:11:00.003-06:00

Peanut meets his new friend. A gift from his Aunt. It now has a place of honor on his bed, next to his pillow. Looks like love at first sight to me!!

I love the expression on his face! He was so cute trying to blow out his candles with the help of his new stuffed friend the Zebra...currently named Marty.

Peanut has been SO. EXCITED!! about his birthday! He went to bed the night before and I told him that when he wakes up, he will be 6. In the morning, I was in the bathroom and he knocked softly on the door and I asked him what he needed.

"I need a hug because I am 6 now!"

He measured himself in the van, to see if he grew any inches over night. I will admit that I am using his excitement to my advantage by telling him that now that he is so much older, it means that he can dress himself and should not need my help getting his boots off. He is perfectly capable, he just dawdles until we run out of town and I have to get us out the door.

Operation Eyebrow

2008-12-12T22:17:00.002-06:00

For some reason this week, I have been thinking a lot about my own aging process. It's natural. I'm not upset about it, just observing what is happening more than anything. I have a friend at work who is just a few years older than me and we have talked a lot about this subject because we are facing some of the same changes. We have also both realized that we are "Middle Aged".

When I used to think of Middle Age, I always thought of my parents. It has been startling for me to realize that I am now the age my parents were when I was growing up. At work, I am in the middle. Although I am a recent graduate, I am still in the mid point of my career vs my co-workers who are at the very beginning of theirs or other co-workers in the office who are approaching retirement. Even without that realization, I only have to look in the mirror to see the changes of time upon my face; the wrinkles around my eyes, the tendency of my eyes to look dark when I don't get enough sleep and "parenthesis" around my mouth.

For the most part, I am ok with it. I figure that this is part of life. The lines on my face, the stretch marks on my tummy, are reminders of the life I have lived, the things I have done, the things that have made me smile, laugh or cry. I have earned every crease. My friend from my office and I have discussed what things we should and should not do to fight the ravages of time. We have ruled out Botox, liposuction, microderm abrasion and chemical peels. We share interesting things we read about beauty and discuss the ridiculous things we women think we have to do to be beautiful. We have discussed a lot about how true beauty is not our outward appearance but the character and the beauty inside us.

So, is it wrong to put forth a little effort into our appearance? I don't think so. I am by no means a high maintenance gal. My goal is 30 minutes from shower to ready to go which includes 10 minutes to shower, 15 minutes to dry and curl my hair and 5 minutes to apply a little makeup.

Lately, Kris and I have been lamenting a little bit because we both have a similar problem. Our Scandinavian heritage, while it gave us our pretty blue eyes and creamy white skin...it neglected to give us any color in our eyebrows and eyelashes. The bare minimum I would ever do on a given day is to wash my face, brush my teeth, flip my hair up in a clip and put mascara on.

Kris and I have a new mission however. I call it Operation Eyebrow. We are learning that darkening eyebrows is very tricky. Do it wrong and you end up looking like you are going to be a circus clown or a mime on a Paris street. I don't know if it was a good thing or not when another coworker asked me if I had done something to my eyebrows. I told her I had used a pencil to darken them and she told me that they looked great. But I still felt like maybe I had gone a bit too dark. Kris's 16 year old daughter told her one day that she still needs more practice.

My eyebrows are taking more time than my allotted 5 minute cosmetic slot. I hope that as I get better at it, it will take less time because I absolutely draw the line at getting my eyebrows tatooed on.

Grown-ups like toys too

2008-12-12T16:41:00.002-06:00

Oh boy oh boy oh boy!! It's like Christmas and my birthday all rolled into one! I got my new computer at work today and it is a tablet with a wireless card! I was so surprised and then so excited I was jumping out of my skin!!! I know it isn't nice but I did find it very funny that I have been very quiet about this and while I am not the first to get one, I am one of the first in the second batch of us to get them. The intake mental health team have had their tablets for almost a year except for one guy on the team who does not like to switch over to new technology(he still dictates most of his notes and has them transcribed because he does not like to type any more than he has to and when you are 61 years old and know retirement is around the corner, I can see his point). Those of us that have had to wait for our tablets have been patient but not always quiet. I have kept my excitement inside.

The IT guy came to my cube this morning and did some IT stuff to my old computer and then said that he could get my tablet set up pretty quickly. I figured that meant a week.

He came back with it in it's shoulder bag right before lunch. One of my co-workers jokingly started to whine about it and he looked at her and said, "Didn't you know that I choose who gets the next one based on who has not been whining in my ear about it?"

It's not nice but I chuckled. And I chuckled out loud in front of other people. To my credit, I covered my mouth so as not to sound horribly loud and bemused. In actuality, the tablets are replacing computers in order of age...newest to oldest because the newest towers are going to office based staff who don't need to be mobile, so it is completely random as to who gets it.

I'm excited that I can take my tablet with me to appointments. I did so this afternoon and it is nice to have put things into my computer and when I don't have to worry about losing my scraps of paper. I can also work in my car or in restaurant in between appointments if I don't have time to go back to the office. This happens often, no matter how well I try to plan my day, I find some appointments just go quickly but there is no point driving 20 minutes to the office only to have to turn right around and go back out again.

OK, I will confess that I do feel just a little bit cooler. I also find it ironic that I, the once upon a time Techno-phobe, is now fully embracing technology. I have my mobile computer, my mobile phone. I text message, I email, I blog and facebook. Next up, GPS.