Yesterday, I was seriously sure I needed to turn in my Mommy license and look for a new job. It was another trying day with my little boy.
I'd decided to lay down the law... I told him that there were no more warnings, no more begging for second changes, no more back talk and no more threatening moves (taking a fighters stance or raising a fist to me in warning). Each infraction would earn him a demerit. Before leaving the house, he had 2... he earned 1 more in Target afterschool... then at speech therapy he earned 2 more... and one more in the car ride home arguing with me. That's 6 demerits in one day. [For the record 3 demerits = a lost of privilege... and it takes 2 merits to erase a demerit(!).]
I also had a somewhat disheartening conversation with his speech therapist. Since I've been struggling with some of Sean's passive-aggressive, regressive behavior, I inquired whether any of this was related to his speech. In my mind, I'd linked the two. In some ways, Sean may be socially immature because he doesn't play with other kids as much and is more reserved in school and isn't there to socialize [isn't that a major arguement against homeschooling? How will your kids be socialized... well mine's in a great school and it's apparently not happening there either!]. Because Sean's speech issue is due to articulation, not speech delay (which is a physical issue vs a cognitive issue), it can't be blamed for the present challenges.
Translation... back to the drawing board. To be clear, yes, I'm talking a lot about the challenges I'm having with Sean's behavior, but overall he's really a fantastic kid. I'm not willing to accept disrespectful behavior, so I'm trying to find the most efficient and effective way to manage this phase he's in. By the end of the day yesterday... I was just at a loss.
My friend Julie's daughter has presented her with similar challenges and she told me yesterday, that consistency and not backing down were the best method. So instead of abandoning the demerit system today, I held fast. Sean did pretty well.
He argued with me at pick-up time, that I had not told them we were going home to clean up after school today. Sammie told him that I had, so at least I wasn't fighting the "Mommy's crazy" battle with both of them. I clearly, calmly laid out that it didn't matter whether I told them yesterday or not, it's what we're doing when we get home. He wasn't happy but he was holding his tongue a bit better.
Once we got home, I set them up with snacks while I wrote up checklists for them follow. He still wasn't happy about and was giving me some sass. I gave him a demerit... was about to give him a second one, when I realized, he didn't understand what's going on. I (again) calmly told him, "I'm giving you the checklist so you can be responsible for getting your things done. I'm treating you like a big kid. Show me that you can do this."
Well, he showed me... he did all his "jobs" in half the time alloted, helped Sammie with hers and stopped to hug me along the way. It was like a new kid...
So, I'm sticking to the demerit system. I still think it will work. Also, I'm realizing, after talking with the speech therapist, that it's possible that his peers are treating him like a little kid because he talks like one. So he has a huge desire to be recognized as a 'big kid.' I need to stop banging my head against a wall (figuratively speaking) and provide him with more guidance on social cues that he's maybe not getting from his peers because they maybe think he's "beneath them."
I guess I need to be consistent, not assume every little incident is the end of the world and show my boy how to be a big kid and ultimately, a real man (one who tells is loved ones how he feels, joyfully helps out around the house and can contribute to this world instead of running around with a sense of entitlement). And for the record, Sean's behavior and attitude earned him 2 merits and canceled out his demerit.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Is the grass always greener?
Today, I'm thankful. We have so much. Sometimes, too much.
I remember being a kid and thinking my friends always had it better. As an adult, I've learned the real stories from my friends or my parents as to what was really going on in those "'better than ours" homes. In some cases, it was about the same as what we had... but rarely, actually better.
As an adult, I find myself lured by the "perfect" lives of the stay at home mom's on TV or those self-employed moms on TV... but no one I know has that perfect rosy life. We all have days where we eat pasta, because it's what we can afford. We all have days where we send our normally sweet-tempered kids up to their rooms for vile behavior. We all have times when we wonder, "what was I thinking marrying this guy and having kids with him this is absolute chaos?" (we've also all concluded, we weren't really thinking, because if we did the human race would have become extinct long long ago).
And when I do feel lured by the perfect TV lives, I also remind myself, no one every goes potty on TV (I've seen it once in a very bizarre foreign film). I'm not saying I want to "watch" people go to the bathroom, I get enough of that with the kids leaving the door open. What I'm saying is... we all go potty and everybody's poo stinks. That's real life.
But I seriously did have a different point here. I'm sure you've seen the recent blogs obsessing with my ability to be a friend and struggling with processing all the challenges my friends are going through. Today, one more "holy cow" bomb was dropped on me and I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around this very sad situation.
It got me thinking... here I think my friends are better off because they aren't going through what I'm going through... but in reality, they've got their own set of horse pucky to deal with. And as I wonder about who's grass is greener... it got me thinking about how things look in the summer around here.
One neighbor is retired and mows his lawn almost twice a week (his driveway is always meticulously shoveled as well). He has hands DOWN the best yard around. He's older, he's retired... he's already dealt with the dandilions and is reaping the benefits of his hardwork.
Another neighbor... she's the dandilion spreader. She hand picks the dandilions out of the grass-- often after they've seeded the rest of our lawns. She also mows her lawn in stages throughout the week-- about every other day, she's mowing a section. But she's somewhere in the middle... she's figuring out the best way to get the dandilions out of her lawn so she can enjoy it.
And then there's my lawn... after 3 years, we've finally had the dead trees in our front lawn removed and culled out 2 overgrown pine trees. Patches of our lawn have been reseeded and hopefully will grow in lush in the spring. We hired out the mowing because with Steve's hours and my allergies, it doesn't get done without taking away from family time. It's worth the money. And that puts us at the bottom of the green grass list... our lawn is "under renovation," much like our lives right now. We've had to make choices and deal with years of unattractiveness and now we have to regrow... yep, that's us.
The grass may be greener next door but they've done their work and we are just starting. We don't really know what they've had to go through to get their pretty green lawns, but we can see them working on it. I guess if I want the greener grass, I need to do the work.
I think maybe that's why so many friends are in "same but different" boats as we are right now... we're all in the renovation phase. Which brings me to the this year's theme... be the building... it's hard to be under renovation, especially when some days you feel like a luxury hotel complex who's financial backer ran out of funding.
I remember being a kid and thinking my friends always had it better. As an adult, I've learned the real stories from my friends or my parents as to what was really going on in those "'better than ours" homes. In some cases, it was about the same as what we had... but rarely, actually better.
As an adult, I find myself lured by the "perfect" lives of the stay at home mom's on TV or those self-employed moms on TV... but no one I know has that perfect rosy life. We all have days where we eat pasta, because it's what we can afford. We all have days where we send our normally sweet-tempered kids up to their rooms for vile behavior. We all have times when we wonder, "what was I thinking marrying this guy and having kids with him this is absolute chaos?" (we've also all concluded, we weren't really thinking, because if we did the human race would have become extinct long long ago).
And when I do feel lured by the perfect TV lives, I also remind myself, no one every goes potty on TV (I've seen it once in a very bizarre foreign film). I'm not saying I want to "watch" people go to the bathroom, I get enough of that with the kids leaving the door open. What I'm saying is... we all go potty and everybody's poo stinks. That's real life.
But I seriously did have a different point here. I'm sure you've seen the recent blogs obsessing with my ability to be a friend and struggling with processing all the challenges my friends are going through. Today, one more "holy cow" bomb was dropped on me and I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around this very sad situation.
It got me thinking... here I think my friends are better off because they aren't going through what I'm going through... but in reality, they've got their own set of horse pucky to deal with. And as I wonder about who's grass is greener... it got me thinking about how things look in the summer around here.
One neighbor is retired and mows his lawn almost twice a week (his driveway is always meticulously shoveled as well). He has hands DOWN the best yard around. He's older, he's retired... he's already dealt with the dandilions and is reaping the benefits of his hardwork.
Another neighbor... she's the dandilion spreader. She hand picks the dandilions out of the grass-- often after they've seeded the rest of our lawns. She also mows her lawn in stages throughout the week-- about every other day, she's mowing a section. But she's somewhere in the middle... she's figuring out the best way to get the dandilions out of her lawn so she can enjoy it.
And then there's my lawn... after 3 years, we've finally had the dead trees in our front lawn removed and culled out 2 overgrown pine trees. Patches of our lawn have been reseeded and hopefully will grow in lush in the spring. We hired out the mowing because with Steve's hours and my allergies, it doesn't get done without taking away from family time. It's worth the money. And that puts us at the bottom of the green grass list... our lawn is "under renovation," much like our lives right now. We've had to make choices and deal with years of unattractiveness and now we have to regrow... yep, that's us.
The grass may be greener next door but they've done their work and we are just starting. We don't really know what they've had to go through to get their pretty green lawns, but we can see them working on it. I guess if I want the greener grass, I need to do the work.
I think maybe that's why so many friends are in "same but different" boats as we are right now... we're all in the renovation phase. Which brings me to the this year's theme... be the building... it's hard to be under renovation, especially when some days you feel like a luxury hotel complex who's financial backer ran out of funding.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Mommy Meltdown and a set of Twins...
Well, I think I had a bit of a meltdown mid-week last week. After a bit of an intense therapy session, where I was horribly worried about whether or not I'm a good friend was followed by some serious drama in my house. I honestly wanted to crawl under a rock and quit.
So... I'm very worried about several of my friends, but as I feel completely helpless and unable to improve their situations, I'm entirely frustrated by it all. I honestly wish I had a magic wand for their lives to make things better, easier, and as fantastic as they would like it. I can't. I'm also doubtful that prayer would help. I mean I am praying that they will find peace and persevere through their situations, but I don't think God can do much about illness or financial stress. Mostly because I've been through some pretty intense stuff in that regard lately. My prayer (and the homilies at church) revealed to me that-- God, through the sacrifice of Jesus, promised absolution from my sins... not a winning lottery ticket. We got ourselves into a mess here on Earth and we have to get ourselves out of it. It's not easy... but we're doing it. As to my summer's illness... I still don't know what the "message" was-- other than I need to take better care of myself and not take on the world's problems as my own (thereby stressing myself out)-- but I persevered. I did not give up all hope. If anything, it gave me a renewed vision of where I would like my life to go... well, where God is working on me anyway.
All this has led me to the conclusion that I MUST be a bad friend... because I can't fix their problems. I think that some people would say, just listening and acknowledging their pain, trials, troubles, etc is enough. Well... I'm not a very good listener. I interrupt and try to make it better in all sorts of inept ways. I hate being inept. So, instead, I'm bottling up all their pain with my own (note... if the past year should have taught me anything, it's that I cannot take in other people's pain and just process it out. It doesn't work and it doesn't help them). And yes, the tummy troubles did come back... along with a little bit of freaking out.
As to last week's family drama... Sean got angry with the way I was disciplining him (note: he mouthed off for the millionth time and I said, go to your room, take your home work... ). He doesn't like to be sent to his room... in fact, it drives him nuts to be sent away from us (it's okay, though if he decides to go off and play on his own, but generally he'd rather be near the rest of us). However, Sammie has begun mimicking his bad behavior, so I needed to crack down for the sake of my sanity-- and it was really time he had a consequence he really, really dislikes. Sean's response to being sent to his room was to say quite clearly and used in context, "Bitch!" I'm pretty sure his and my guardian angels stepped in because I simply said, "Upstairs. Now. Until your father comes home!" Yes, I actually threatened him with "Daddy's gonna get you" type language. To be clear... it was stay upstairs until someone big enough to keep me from slapping you across the face is in the room. I know that I would not really slap him... honest! I just really, really wanted to!
I called Steve to fill him in and somehow...Steve managed to insinuate that it was my fault Sean said it... I had somehow provoked Sean or used that word. I don't ususally use that word. I'm pretty sure my guardian Angel received overtime, because instead of yelling at Steve and starting one of those world-war-3 type arguments, I texted him a sort of "how dare you" message. It was not as cathartic as I had hoped because he did not acknowledge it or apologize. I opted to let it go, though. The larger issue was Sean's behavior. And if you know Sean, yes this behavior is out of character.
I guess that led to my previous... nobody knows me post. Yeah, people do know me... I just was feeling really down on myself by the time I blogged on Wednesday.
I feel better that I let it all out, but I probably pissed someone off in the process. I'd say that's life, but I don't like it when people are mad at me. I tend to compromise myself when that happens... I always take the fault. Well, I was expressing my honest opinion at the time... and it probably upset people. I'm not going to apologize for my opinions and if you got mad... you need to go re-read this post from the beginning. I had a really bad day... it was a cry for help!
Suffice it to say that I'm feeling better about not being able to fix everyone's problems and we resolved Sean's misbehavior without yelling (at him... he did yell some more at me), which to me is a huge step. He was also not spanked, beaten or otherwise physically harmed. Yes, he was quite upset at his early bedtime, lectures and general disruption to his world view... but these were necessary adjustments. And if an early bedtime seems a little light handed with him... he did not really understand the word, but he knew it was not good or nice. Being banished from usual night time activities is rough on him... the punishment has to fit the crime and be an appropriate consequence. Sean got the message loud and clear, "if you behave this way, you are not welcome in the room."
Oh yes... as to the "twins" reference...Steve gave me the ultimate mood booster this weekend. We went to Cascades Humane Society on Saturday and got 2 male kittens. They are 12 weeks now, are litter-mates and have already been neutered. One is (currently) all black and is named Oreo. He's a little scrawny right now... but he's a fiesty guy. The other is (currently) all grey and is named Cupcake. He's a bit chunkier than Oreo is... but he seems to be the calm one. They amuse me and they both seem to think I'm the Mama. Lucky for me... they may get big and smelly and pee in a corner (hmm... Sean and Sammie have both done that)... but they will never call me bad names! Right now, I need a little more unconditional love in my life. Thanks Steve!
So... I'm very worried about several of my friends, but as I feel completely helpless and unable to improve their situations, I'm entirely frustrated by it all. I honestly wish I had a magic wand for their lives to make things better, easier, and as fantastic as they would like it. I can't. I'm also doubtful that prayer would help. I mean I am praying that they will find peace and persevere through their situations, but I don't think God can do much about illness or financial stress. Mostly because I've been through some pretty intense stuff in that regard lately. My prayer (and the homilies at church) revealed to me that-- God, through the sacrifice of Jesus, promised absolution from my sins... not a winning lottery ticket. We got ourselves into a mess here on Earth and we have to get ourselves out of it. It's not easy... but we're doing it. As to my summer's illness... I still don't know what the "message" was-- other than I need to take better care of myself and not take on the world's problems as my own (thereby stressing myself out)-- but I persevered. I did not give up all hope. If anything, it gave me a renewed vision of where I would like my life to go... well, where God is working on me anyway.
All this has led me to the conclusion that I MUST be a bad friend... because I can't fix their problems. I think that some people would say, just listening and acknowledging their pain, trials, troubles, etc is enough. Well... I'm not a very good listener. I interrupt and try to make it better in all sorts of inept ways. I hate being inept. So, instead, I'm bottling up all their pain with my own (note... if the past year should have taught me anything, it's that I cannot take in other people's pain and just process it out. It doesn't work and it doesn't help them). And yes, the tummy troubles did come back... along with a little bit of freaking out.
As to last week's family drama... Sean got angry with the way I was disciplining him (note: he mouthed off for the millionth time and I said, go to your room, take your home work... ). He doesn't like to be sent to his room... in fact, it drives him nuts to be sent away from us (it's okay, though if he decides to go off and play on his own, but generally he'd rather be near the rest of us). However, Sammie has begun mimicking his bad behavior, so I needed to crack down for the sake of my sanity-- and it was really time he had a consequence he really, really dislikes. Sean's response to being sent to his room was to say quite clearly and used in context, "Bitch!" I'm pretty sure his and my guardian angels stepped in because I simply said, "Upstairs. Now. Until your father comes home!" Yes, I actually threatened him with "Daddy's gonna get you" type language. To be clear... it was stay upstairs until someone big enough to keep me from slapping you across the face is in the room. I know that I would not really slap him... honest! I just really, really wanted to!
I called Steve to fill him in and somehow...Steve managed to insinuate that it was my fault Sean said it... I had somehow provoked Sean or used that word. I don't ususally use that word. I'm pretty sure my guardian Angel received overtime, because instead of yelling at Steve and starting one of those world-war-3 type arguments, I texted him a sort of "how dare you" message. It was not as cathartic as I had hoped because he did not acknowledge it or apologize. I opted to let it go, though. The larger issue was Sean's behavior. And if you know Sean, yes this behavior is out of character.
I guess that led to my previous... nobody knows me post. Yeah, people do know me... I just was feeling really down on myself by the time I blogged on Wednesday.
I feel better that I let it all out, but I probably pissed someone off in the process. I'd say that's life, but I don't like it when people are mad at me. I tend to compromise myself when that happens... I always take the fault. Well, I was expressing my honest opinion at the time... and it probably upset people. I'm not going to apologize for my opinions and if you got mad... you need to go re-read this post from the beginning. I had a really bad day... it was a cry for help!
Suffice it to say that I'm feeling better about not being able to fix everyone's problems and we resolved Sean's misbehavior without yelling (at him... he did yell some more at me), which to me is a huge step. He was also not spanked, beaten or otherwise physically harmed. Yes, he was quite upset at his early bedtime, lectures and general disruption to his world view... but these were necessary adjustments. And if an early bedtime seems a little light handed with him... he did not really understand the word, but he knew it was not good or nice. Being banished from usual night time activities is rough on him... the punishment has to fit the crime and be an appropriate consequence. Sean got the message loud and clear, "if you behave this way, you are not welcome in the room."
Oh yes... as to the "twins" reference...Steve gave me the ultimate mood booster this weekend. We went to Cascades Humane Society on Saturday and got 2 male kittens. They are 12 weeks now, are litter-mates and have already been neutered. One is (currently) all black and is named Oreo. He's a little scrawny right now... but he's a fiesty guy. The other is (currently) all grey and is named Cupcake. He's a bit chunkier than Oreo is... but he seems to be the calm one. They amuse me and they both seem to think I'm the Mama. Lucky for me... they may get big and smelly and pee in a corner (hmm... Sean and Sammie have both done that)... but they will never call me bad names! Right now, I need a little more unconditional love in my life. Thanks Steve!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
The Truth Does Hurt...
It's been about a week and I've really wanted to blog several times in the last week. Somehow, whenever I sat down to my computer, I just couldn't get my thoughts organized. And Yeah, I know... like my thoughts come across as organized... what I mean is... I just couldn't get anything to make sense.
I guess I've had a lot on my mind the last few days. Nothing major, just a lot swirling around in there. I'm working through a lot of mental junk, that I think contributed to this summer getting so unpleasant. It wasn't like I was just sick. I was down... REALLY REALLY down about everything. When I say I felt terrible, I mean mentally and physically. It was really like my mind and body were working against themselves and each other. I mean, if you feel bad, but can still stomach a pint of Ben & Jerry's then life seems more tolerable (as long as you don't get on the scale too often). Or if you're in a good mood, just have a cold dragging you down... again, sudafed makes it all better. But when you can't eat and feel terrible at the same time... well, it's unpleasant.
As you might have surmised from my hints or because you know me... I do see a therapist... because drugs for my mood is not something I want as a solution, especially not a permanent solution. So part of me wants to get to the root of all my junk and I think I'm getting close. I don't really want to explain the whole where and why and how I came to this conclusion... but I'm pretty sure most people don't know me.
And I could be wrong, which would be okay... and I don't want you to feel insulted if i say, well, I don't think most people know me. I mean, really know me. It's honestly all my doing that you don't. I'm truly a master at hiding myself from the world. I can discredit all the hurtful behavior I encounter, because I'm actually EXTREMELY sensitive, I block everyone from knowing me with my facade of happy, carefree, wacky Alex. To be truthful... I'm pretty dang sure that you would not like the real me. I'm convinced that I am not loveable and not worthy of love. (Though I just had a friend tell me today that notion was pretty much horsepucky).
If you were around this Fall, you probably got pretty close to seeing me completely as I am... because I had nothing left to continue faking with. And then someone hurt my feelings. It's a woman I only know casually that butted into a conversation with a friend... and I decided... screw this... no matter how sick I get, now matter how miserable I am... I am NOT opening myself up for criticism from someone who's name I don't even recall. Up went the walls... back came "happy Alex."
I'm not sure where I stand right now...because part of me wants to be honest and blather out everything that's going on in my head... and the stronger part is saying, "End the post now... they can't hurt you if they don't know what hurts you." I think the "shut up" voice in my head is winning and some of the truth just needs to remain private and not posted for all the world to see. Mostly because I feel it should hurt someone else more than it does me, but unfortunately, the truth hurts me the most and having other people know just makes it worse.
I guess I've had a lot on my mind the last few days. Nothing major, just a lot swirling around in there. I'm working through a lot of mental junk, that I think contributed to this summer getting so unpleasant. It wasn't like I was just sick. I was down... REALLY REALLY down about everything. When I say I felt terrible, I mean mentally and physically. It was really like my mind and body were working against themselves and each other. I mean, if you feel bad, but can still stomach a pint of Ben & Jerry's then life seems more tolerable (as long as you don't get on the scale too often). Or if you're in a good mood, just have a cold dragging you down... again, sudafed makes it all better. But when you can't eat and feel terrible at the same time... well, it's unpleasant.
As you might have surmised from my hints or because you know me... I do see a therapist... because drugs for my mood is not something I want as a solution, especially not a permanent solution. So part of me wants to get to the root of all my junk and I think I'm getting close. I don't really want to explain the whole where and why and how I came to this conclusion... but I'm pretty sure most people don't know me.
And I could be wrong, which would be okay... and I don't want you to feel insulted if i say, well, I don't think most people know me. I mean, really know me. It's honestly all my doing that you don't. I'm truly a master at hiding myself from the world. I can discredit all the hurtful behavior I encounter, because I'm actually EXTREMELY sensitive, I block everyone from knowing me with my facade of happy, carefree, wacky Alex. To be truthful... I'm pretty dang sure that you would not like the real me. I'm convinced that I am not loveable and not worthy of love. (Though I just had a friend tell me today that notion was pretty much horsepucky).
If you were around this Fall, you probably got pretty close to seeing me completely as I am... because I had nothing left to continue faking with. And then someone hurt my feelings. It's a woman I only know casually that butted into a conversation with a friend... and I decided... screw this... no matter how sick I get, now matter how miserable I am... I am NOT opening myself up for criticism from someone who's name I don't even recall. Up went the walls... back came "happy Alex."
I'm not sure where I stand right now...because part of me wants to be honest and blather out everything that's going on in my head... and the stronger part is saying, "End the post now... they can't hurt you if they don't know what hurts you." I think the "shut up" voice in my head is winning and some of the truth just needs to remain private and not posted for all the world to see. Mostly because I feel it should hurt someone else more than it does me, but unfortunately, the truth hurts me the most and having other people know just makes it worse.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Be the Building and Namaste
My mantra for the last few days has been "be the building, Alex, be the building." In case you missed the memo, that means slow down, don't panic and allow God ("the Architect") to do his job. I have to say, I'm so glad I have a little mantra/prayer going. My mantra reminds me to be thankful for what I have... and should we happen to meet on the street and you're a little frazzled by life and circumstances... please don't be upset if I take a deep breath and tell you to be the building.
It simply means, "I hear you... I'm there too... we can do this...together." It's not me blowing you off or belittling you... it's me sharing your sense of overwhelm, confusion and prayers for your life. It's not my lazy, half-assed "Feel Better" statement... nor is it a "too bad, so sad for you because my life rocks." 'Nuf said about that.
I used to take yoga... and had a great yoga teacher... she taught me much about my body and my mind and, this may be surprising, how to be a Catholic and open to the world. And it is just in the last few days that I finally understand the greeting "Namaste." She used to give us the definition of "namaste" as "If I am in this place and you are in this place, then we are one." Rather than wrapping my mind around that bit of genius, I've let it brew in the back of my mind for years (really, years...sometimes it takes me that long to get it).
As you've probably read, or heard, I've been struggling with some irritating health issues. The infamous "B-12" issue. Anyway... yesterday, I received a headache-inducing e-mail from a very, very good friend. I say headache inducing, because my heart did not break from it, but wrapping my mind around what's going on with her, healthwise, has humbled my own sense of "problem" and it's truly a very OVERWHELMING issue. Having had to even consider that colon cancer was a possible diagnosis this past Fall... my head hurt just knowing what kinds of thoughts were streaming through her head. Out of respect for her privacy, that's as much as I can say on her health particulars. Despite that we're both struggling right now... we connected in a way that can only be described as God-given beauty. Perhaps right now, my health issues were to open my heart and mind to be there for her.
So what does this have to do with being the building or namaste? Well, clearly, I'm under rennovation... that's obvious to me... but right now... Namaste describes what I felt last night. As we've exchanged messages over the last 24 hours, I have seen myself in her words and her situation and in turn, I think she's seeing me. We are in this "place" together. We are one... we are strong and we will get through what lies ahead.
Kay (not her real name BTW), if you are reading this... we are too strong, too loved and our babies need us... and a battle is being waged for our souls and tempting us with dispair and frustration. I know we're in the right "Army" and in the end, no matter what, we will be okay. Oh, yes, and I love you! Namaste.
It simply means, "I hear you... I'm there too... we can do this...together." It's not me blowing you off or belittling you... it's me sharing your sense of overwhelm, confusion and prayers for your life. It's not my lazy, half-assed "Feel Better" statement... nor is it a "too bad, so sad for you because my life rocks." 'Nuf said about that.
I used to take yoga... and had a great yoga teacher... she taught me much about my body and my mind and, this may be surprising, how to be a Catholic and open to the world. And it is just in the last few days that I finally understand the greeting "Namaste." She used to give us the definition of "namaste" as "If I am in this place and you are in this place, then we are one." Rather than wrapping my mind around that bit of genius, I've let it brew in the back of my mind for years (really, years...sometimes it takes me that long to get it).
As you've probably read, or heard, I've been struggling with some irritating health issues. The infamous "B-12" issue. Anyway... yesterday, I received a headache-inducing e-mail from a very, very good friend. I say headache inducing, because my heart did not break from it, but wrapping my mind around what's going on with her, healthwise, has humbled my own sense of "problem" and it's truly a very OVERWHELMING issue. Having had to even consider that colon cancer was a possible diagnosis this past Fall... my head hurt just knowing what kinds of thoughts were streaming through her head. Out of respect for her privacy, that's as much as I can say on her health particulars. Despite that we're both struggling right now... we connected in a way that can only be described as God-given beauty. Perhaps right now, my health issues were to open my heart and mind to be there for her.
So what does this have to do with being the building or namaste? Well, clearly, I'm under rennovation... that's obvious to me... but right now... Namaste describes what I felt last night. As we've exchanged messages over the last 24 hours, I have seen myself in her words and her situation and in turn, I think she's seeing me. We are in this "place" together. We are one... we are strong and we will get through what lies ahead.
Kay (not her real name BTW), if you are reading this... we are too strong, too loved and our babies need us... and a battle is being waged for our souls and tempting us with dispair and frustration. I know we're in the right "Army" and in the end, no matter what, we will be okay. Oh, yes, and I love you! Namaste.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Signs of the Apocalypse... probably not!
I'm trying not to be frustrated and pessimistic right now...
I think I'm failing miserably.
I tried to go 3 weeks between B12 shots... and the results aren't so fantastic. You see, I feel cruddy... my calf muscles hurt, my stomach feels like I just got off a roller coaster, my appetite is gone overnight.... Yes, I went to the Dr and they are doing bloodwork again. Here's hoping it shows something consistent... because I'm confused. I don't want to feel crummy... and there's another kink in the works (and this may be considered TMI so uh, sorry). I've discovered I start horrendous nightsweats 3 days before, during and I dunno how long after my period. This could be early menopause or it could be related to the B12.
I'm also feeling a little suspicious... like my NP had some insightful comment... she asked how my leg issues were. Without giving a full medical history... in Dec of 2009, I was put on neurontin by a neurologist because of restless leg like sypmtoms in both legs, with worse symptoms in my left leg. My NP commented that you can have neuropathy in your extremities as part of B12 deficiency. Okay, so then WHAT! WAIT! Stop the presses... if my leg pain/neuropathy symptoms were related to B12 deficiency, then I've had issues since Dec of 2009, not June of 2010. Uhm... hello, uh, is there a customer service rep for this body of mine that I can talk to and register a complaint?
And now the worry has begun, because stupidly, I googled (okay, I binged-- go ahead and laugh Steve)... b12 deficiency, night sweats and neuropathy. Okay, so I've WebMD confirmed that B12 and neuropathy can be linked... but B12 and nightsweats can be linked... if you have too much B12. Whaaat? So which is it... too much or too little because I feel like I did when we discovered it was too little but I'm sweating at night like it's too much. Yea, but the search results also revealed that I could have Lupus too. That's a new one to the mix... and I'm realizing they took 3 vials of blood... I hate the blood draw so much (I hate hate hate needles) that I usually don't look. And if I do look the sight of blood in a vial does not make me feel better. I mean... it's supposed to be in me not sitting on a table. WebMD, however, confirms there is no blood test for lupus, which means my NP is not testing me for lupus, right?! OMG, I'm insane... well... I feel insane.
I am also feeling frustrated because I feel like I should schedule my annual femail "oil change" early... but the thought of bringing in ONE MORE DR into the loop is just... insane... I'm seriously beginning to feel like I have Munchhausen by Proxy, without the proxy and without the desire for attention.
Maybe I should chill... have a cuppa tea... read a book and wait for the B12 results call to come tomorrow and go from there. Maybe, I should not talk to my mother before I go to the Dr's office. Maybe I have to remember that today is today and not the end of the world. And if it were the end of the world, I don't think I'd have a clue until suddenly we were all gone. I'm pretty sure God whispers and mumbles to me (and I'm probably not really paying attention and he doesn't like to repeat himself)... but he does not send me Vegas style signs of what's to come. I could really use a Vegas Style sign of what's going on, though.
Be the building, Alex, be the building...
I think I'm failing miserably.
I tried to go 3 weeks between B12 shots... and the results aren't so fantastic. You see, I feel cruddy... my calf muscles hurt, my stomach feels like I just got off a roller coaster, my appetite is gone overnight.... Yes, I went to the Dr and they are doing bloodwork again. Here's hoping it shows something consistent... because I'm confused. I don't want to feel crummy... and there's another kink in the works (and this may be considered TMI so uh, sorry). I've discovered I start horrendous nightsweats 3 days before, during and I dunno how long after my period. This could be early menopause or it could be related to the B12.
I'm also feeling a little suspicious... like my NP had some insightful comment... she asked how my leg issues were. Without giving a full medical history... in Dec of 2009, I was put on neurontin by a neurologist because of restless leg like sypmtoms in both legs, with worse symptoms in my left leg. My NP commented that you can have neuropathy in your extremities as part of B12 deficiency. Okay, so then WHAT! WAIT! Stop the presses... if my leg pain/neuropathy symptoms were related to B12 deficiency, then I've had issues since Dec of 2009, not June of 2010. Uhm... hello, uh, is there a customer service rep for this body of mine that I can talk to and register a complaint?
And now the worry has begun, because stupidly, I googled (okay, I binged-- go ahead and laugh Steve)... b12 deficiency, night sweats and neuropathy. Okay, so I've WebMD confirmed that B12 and neuropathy can be linked... but B12 and nightsweats can be linked... if you have too much B12. Whaaat? So which is it... too much or too little because I feel like I did when we discovered it was too little but I'm sweating at night like it's too much. Yea, but the search results also revealed that I could have Lupus too. That's a new one to the mix... and I'm realizing they took 3 vials of blood... I hate the blood draw so much (I hate hate hate needles) that I usually don't look. And if I do look the sight of blood in a vial does not make me feel better. I mean... it's supposed to be in me not sitting on a table. WebMD, however, confirms there is no blood test for lupus, which means my NP is not testing me for lupus, right?! OMG, I'm insane... well... I feel insane.
I am also feeling frustrated because I feel like I should schedule my annual femail "oil change" early... but the thought of bringing in ONE MORE DR into the loop is just... insane... I'm seriously beginning to feel like I have Munchhausen by Proxy, without the proxy and without the desire for attention.
Maybe I should chill... have a cuppa tea... read a book and wait for the B12 results call to come tomorrow and go from there. Maybe, I should not talk to my mother before I go to the Dr's office. Maybe I have to remember that today is today and not the end of the world. And if it were the end of the world, I don't think I'd have a clue until suddenly we were all gone. I'm pretty sure God whispers and mumbles to me (and I'm probably not really paying attention and he doesn't like to repeat himself)... but he does not send me Vegas style signs of what's to come. I could really use a Vegas Style sign of what's going on, though.
Be the building, Alex, be the building...
Monday, January 3, 2011
Dream World
I'm sittting on the couch, snuggled under a blanket with my little princess... technically, we're watching a Charlie's Angels marathon. But I thought I'd multi-task and blog at the same time.
Sammie's being super sweet today. Right now as I'm typing, Sammie's patting my back and telling me, "It's okay baby, let the burpies out" (Huh?) But I have to be honest... the sweet little girl drives me nutty at bed time. When she gets tired, she gets so silly, squirrelly and squirmy. And since she spent the first 4 years of her life not sleeping at night... you can imagine that when she pulls the normal 6 year old bedtime nutball routine, I get a little nervous.
Last night, she was bouncing all over her bed and just would not settle down, I started thinking that I should be enjoying these moments. I mean that's what old people tell me in the grocery store..."Enjoy it, they'll be grown up before you know it" or "You'll be missing them someday." I had a momentary twinge of nursing memories... this was so much easier when I could plop into the rocker and placate her with some fresh jus de boobie. She'd just fall asleep...nestled next to me, but I can't say, I really miss nursing at all. I mean I'm not sorry I did it, I'm glad I did it (for 2 1/2 years!), but I'm happy that it's behind me.
Earlier today, I was thinking... what do I need to change about our bedtime routine, so that Sammie is more calm and settled down when we get to the lights out point. For the record, bedtime routine is about 1 hour long involving baths after dinner, some family time, and individual snuggles with Mom and Dad up in their rooms. It's complex... but it completely works for Sean. Considering also, that most days, Steve is just rolling into the garage at bath time, it's our time with Steve in the evening. The more I think about it... our evening routine is pretty solid... it's just Sammie... she's part squirrel, part Tasmanian Devil... and I'm in a dream world to think that I could mix up anything that would work very long.
I came to this conclusion when I was cleaning out some drawers in the kitchen. I found a little index card where I'd written down on of my previous solutions, just in case it worked long term. I'm a little anal, in case you hadn't noticed. Anyway, thought I'd share it... since it did work for about 6 months... then it turned into a "tell me more Mama!" fiasco. I'm no poet, but it brought a smile to my face remembering when this worked.
Blast Off to Dream World...
10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1
Blast off... [quiet]
Past the moon, and past the stars
Out past Jupiter and out past Mars.
we're blasting off to Dream World.
Where Shall We Go?
Ahhh... I see it... the _________________ planet. [insert planet name like "Sparkly Pink Dance Planet"]
And when we land, they'll greet us.
"Hello ______________"
and give us _____________________ ["big hugs" "cookies" "princess wands"... you get the idea]
Then we'll ______________________ ["dance all night" "eat popcorn and drink rootbeer"]
And when we've had enough fun,
we'll climb back aboard our rocket ship and come home
Tomorrow, we'll be happy and rested
and we'll __________________ [insert tomorrow's plans].
Close your eyes and wait for your dream. Good Night.
Sammie's being super sweet today. Right now as I'm typing, Sammie's patting my back and telling me, "It's okay baby, let the burpies out" (Huh?) But I have to be honest... the sweet little girl drives me nutty at bed time. When she gets tired, she gets so silly, squirrelly and squirmy. And since she spent the first 4 years of her life not sleeping at night... you can imagine that when she pulls the normal 6 year old bedtime nutball routine, I get a little nervous.
Last night, she was bouncing all over her bed and just would not settle down, I started thinking that I should be enjoying these moments. I mean that's what old people tell me in the grocery store..."Enjoy it, they'll be grown up before you know it" or "You'll be missing them someday." I had a momentary twinge of nursing memories... this was so much easier when I could plop into the rocker and placate her with some fresh jus de boobie. She'd just fall asleep...nestled next to me, but I can't say, I really miss nursing at all. I mean I'm not sorry I did it, I'm glad I did it (for 2 1/2 years!), but I'm happy that it's behind me.
Earlier today, I was thinking... what do I need to change about our bedtime routine, so that Sammie is more calm and settled down when we get to the lights out point. For the record, bedtime routine is about 1 hour long involving baths after dinner, some family time, and individual snuggles with Mom and Dad up in their rooms. It's complex... but it completely works for Sean. Considering also, that most days, Steve is just rolling into the garage at bath time, it's our time with Steve in the evening. The more I think about it... our evening routine is pretty solid... it's just Sammie... she's part squirrel, part Tasmanian Devil... and I'm in a dream world to think that I could mix up anything that would work very long.
I came to this conclusion when I was cleaning out some drawers in the kitchen. I found a little index card where I'd written down on of my previous solutions, just in case it worked long term. I'm a little anal, in case you hadn't noticed. Anyway, thought I'd share it... since it did work for about 6 months... then it turned into a "tell me more Mama!" fiasco. I'm no poet, but it brought a smile to my face remembering when this worked.
Blast Off to Dream World...
10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1
Blast off... [quiet]
Past the moon, and past the stars
Out past Jupiter and out past Mars.
we're blasting off to Dream World.
Where Shall We Go?
Ahhh... I see it... the _________________ planet. [insert planet name like "Sparkly Pink Dance Planet"]
And when we land, they'll greet us.
"Hello ______________"
and give us _____________________ ["big hugs" "cookies" "princess wands"... you get the idea]
Then we'll ______________________ ["dance all night" "eat popcorn and drink rootbeer"]
And when we've had enough fun,
we'll climb back aboard our rocket ship and come home
Tomorrow, we'll be happy and rested
and we'll __________________ [insert tomorrow's plans].
Close your eyes and wait for your dream. Good Night.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Living the Good Life
Ahh... the best laid plans of mice and men... and I'm a woman, so you can imagine my plans were grandiose for my 10 days off... and well, I accomplished absolutely none of it.
I am however completely relaxed and at ease. I mean, yes, we cleaned the house, yes we celebrated Christmas, yes we celebrated New Year's Eve (lamely, I'll add)... but overall, we just did whatever our whims inspired us to do:
Happy New Year... let's make 2011 one we can all say was a great year.
I am however completely relaxed and at ease. I mean, yes, we cleaned the house, yes we celebrated Christmas, yes we celebrated New Year's Eve (lamely, I'll add)... but overall, we just did whatever our whims inspired us to do:
- Sean has played on his DS, the computer, the XBox, the Wii, and the new Kinect that Santa brought.
- Sammie has made a mess in every room, whined about having to clean it up, made crafts, played with her American Girl doll and all the new accessories for it that Santa brought.
- Steve slept in, fiddled on the computer, made a shelf, installed there home theater system, uninstalled it, re-installed it, and is presently researching a mysterious static source that's cause the whole system to randomly shut off (theories abound).
- I have watched a lot of mindless TV (CSI marathon, NCIS marathon, Bones mini-marathon, Charlie's Angels marathon, T J Hooker marathon [right about here is where I realized I may have a TV addiction], played computer games (mostly hidden object, but have become obsessed with expert level scores on Roads of Rome, a time management game), cleaned out the pantry, did piles and piles of laundry [that's why I was sitting around watching TV-- and Sammie was totally into Charlie's Angels with me!].
- keeping the house picked up and out of CHAOS... for me this means going back to FlyLady basics.
- meal planning, grocery planning and cooking at home. It tastes better and brings us all to the table. I've even been using my Leann Ely cookbooks
.
- spending time with the family in completely unstructured ways, which may mean saying no to some invites.
- worry less about what people think about me. Seriously... I stress myself out wondering if I said the wrong thing (I probably did), if my joke was inappropriate (let's face it, that's pretty much how I roll), and whether people love me. This is not an APB begging for "we love you Alex" messages... though it's great if you do... I'm just not going to worry about it if you don't. I've got a running list in my head of gentle reminders to ignore, let go, and move on. And when I say move on... I mean, recognize what is not worth my time and not beat myself up over it. It is not my job to please the world any more than it is anyone else's job.
- be the building... 2 years ago, I attended a women's retreat and the AMAZINGLY insightful Paulie Heath spoke about how God is the architect and we are the buildings. Imagine how a building must feel (if, of course, it was sentient) to be under renovation and not get to see the blue prints. Well, I am the building... I accept that I am under rennovation and I am open to the changes the architect has planned for me. My structure is sound and I am ready to be improved, embellished and built to last a life time. Knock down those walls, rewire the power, and make me a wide open space to be used for good!
- take the time to do what entertains me... whether it's a quiet bubble bath, reading a book, or a crime show marathon. I am not required to be serious all the time (yea, I know, the idea of me being serious is a bit ludicrous... perhaps, I should say on task and intent).
Happy New Year... let's make 2011 one we can all say was a great year.
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