Me Plus My Three

Taking the Long View

2011-12-19T10:38:00.008-06:00

this is why the mess doesn't matter

One of my goals as a parent it to always keep the long view in mind. Sometimes I fail spectacularly but I find that thinking about what my long term goal is helps me to discern important from nonessential.

When my children were very small my husband designated a wall in our house that was theirs to do whatever they wanted. It was not easy to buy into this plan because it meant that EVERY guest we had would be passing the "art wall" on the way to the bathroom. But his argument was that he always wanted to have one when he was a child and that the kids mattered more than the wall. For the next four years they painted, drew with chalk, crayons, and markers on that small expanse of wall. At first it made me cringe and then little by little I embraced the idea that my children were more important than the mess. It only took one hour to Kilz and paint that wall when the kids were done with it and it gave them four years of enjoyment and an awareness that we valued their artistic expression and freedom.

Our house has been the site of indoor cookie parties with 12 pounds of icing in 20 different colors with 47 kids under 10, tye die parties with 35 kindergartners armed with mustard and ketchup squeeze bottles to squirt the shirts, craft days with glitter and glue and an abundance of paint that was only overshadowed by the number of children doing the painting. At the end of some of these parties, I would wonder if it would be easier to just move than to scrub the hardened icing from the walls and vacuum the glitter from the floorboards. But years later my kids remember some of those parties with a clarity that I find surprising.

We don't just punish ourselves with parties, we also have incorporated messy endeavors into our family traditions. Every year we decorate gingerbread houses. It started at my mothers house and has moved on to ours since all live together on the family compound and is a highlight of the Christmas season. As much sprinkles end up on my floor as on the houses and the sheer volume of candy and frosting can be overwhelming. We bake gingerbread cookies every year and they always "run away" while they are cooling and a grand hunt ensues to find them. But at the end I always wonder if it would be easier to just burn down the house instead of cleaning the kitchen.

Here is where the long view comes in - when my children are grown they will remember that we gave them a wall and valued them above the opinions of our guests, they will remember that we had parties that bordered on absolute chaos and managed not to micromanage their creative process, they will remember that we put family traditions and togetherness over a sparkling clean floor. I hope when they become parents they will embrace the temporary mess because by embracing the mess they will be embracing their child and making memories.

The day will come when my house is perfectly decorated, sparkling clean, and calm and peaceful all the time and then I will miss the mess and the chaos.

my kids still remember this like it was yesterday and that cutie in the red dress is my surly teenager

Falling Apart

2011-12-17T23:55:00.003-06:00

The first time I held my oldest child she died in my hands. As they pulled her from me and began the frantic, frenetic process of resuscitating her, my mind and my heart separated. I endured silently and calmly until I saw that she was breathing and her heart was beating again. Then I fell apart. When I was scrubbing up to see my son in the neonatal ICU two years later, I heard the code blue for him over the loudspeaker. Once again the rational and emotional sides of me splintered and I endured until he was stable and then broke down.

Two of my children have disabilities. I do not have the luxury of falling apart during a problem. Problems are a part of our daily lives. I have stood by helpless and watched my older children scream and shake in pain, endure countless hours of therapy, medical procedures, uncertain futures. What makes it possible for me to stand by and stay calm is that I almost lost both of them. I have faced the mortality of my oldest children. What is pain and disability compared to death? It is hard to care what the future holds for them when I am just so grateful they have one.

But my baby is different. My youngest child holds the distinction of being the only child I have never had to watch suffer. The only child I have not seen die. The only child I held when she was born, brought home without a tangle of wires, and my only child without a disability. I have never stood by her ER bed while she screamed and begged for me to make the pain stop. I never had to be helpless with her.

Until last week. At a routine orthodontic checkup her doctor found a fast growing tumor that was growing into her lower jaw. She was in the hospital within 36 hours being prepped for surgery and I was barely holding it together. When they wheeled her in to the OR she reached her little hand back and said crying, "Don't leave me Mommy". I felt scared and helpless and completely unmoored. If it hadn't of been for some wonderful friends who came to the hospital to wait with us, I would have completely broken down then.

But I was still terrified. Scared that my little girl, who had never known a moment's suffering, may have cancer. To be there for my daughter, I once again disengaged my mind from my heart and endured. I babied her after surgery. made her soup and gave her the little "sick" bell, cuddled and watched movies. All while studying for my finals 4 days later. I refused to let my mind go to the big C word and concentrated instead on her recovery and my studies. When the surgeon told us yesterday that the path report came back benign and the chance of recurrence was extremely low, I felt so thankful and relieved. Once I knew that my baby was going to be okay, I allowed my mind to go to all the possibilities that I had shielded from my thoughts for the last week.

And then I fell apart. And am still trying to reassemble the pieces.

Thankfulness

2011-11-27T17:38:00.003-06:00

I have been reading all the thankfulness posts on Facebook over the past few weeks and obviously my mind has turned to what I am thankful for during Thanksgiving. I will admit to a certain amount of patronizing eyerolling at some of the status updates on Facebook. By the second week people are usually either reaching pretty deep or repeating themselves and I find the whole exercise a little contrived and disingenuous. Most people are thankful for what they have in comparison to people who lack. While I think it is important to be aware that the average American life is extremely luxurious when compared to a global standard, I don't necessarily think that should translate to a guilt-filled gratitude.

I do feel grateful for my house, and my car, and electric blanket but when I think about the things that are really important to me - possessions don't rate high on the list. I don't feel guilty for having something that others may not but I know that I could make do with less as long as I have what really matters to me.

What matters to me, what I am thankful for is time. When I was a child I thought time was infinite. An hour was forever, a day incomprehensible, and a weekend an eternity. As I age, as I experience joy and tragedy and loss, I have realized that time is finite. Last holiday season was so stressful because I was afraid, every time I looked at my mother, every time I thought about how sick she was I panicked. I really thought that my time with my mother was almost up and my heart was breaking. I felt the lasts - the last thanksgiving, the last Christmas, the last birthday. So my house and my things and even my beloved electric blanket seem pale when compared to the time that I still have with my mother.

That time will come to an end and I am sure it will be earlier than I am ready for but for now I can be thankful that what I thought were the lasts weren't.

Living Today

2011-11-17T21:46:00.003-06:00

One of our many todays from yesterday

It is difficult to live in the moment. Nostalgia pulls you backward and anxiety pulls you forward. "How is is possible my children aren't babies anymore?" is at war with "Will my children continue to stay on the right path and make good choices?" And that parenting schizophrenia steals from today.

I have very few memories of my two older children as babies. The fact that they were critically ill meant that all of my focus was on tomorrow. My mind was consumed with whether they would have a tomorrow and I neglected to appreciate their todays.

Several years ago I had a very complicated surgery and went through a period of time when my thoughts were focused on my yesterdays. To "before" - before my surgery went bad, before I was functionally disabled, before I felt incomplete. I have very few memories of those two years because I ignored my todays.

I often remind myself that I can only live in my todays - I can think about my past but I will be thinking about it today, I can think about the future but I will be thinking about it today. Today is all that exists.

My children will continue to grow older and the future will become the past and I want to remember and appreciate and absorb all of the todays between now and then.

I don't want to be your friend

2011-11-14T22:04:00.002-06:00

My children have very expressive faces and are not very good at hiding their emotions. This has obvious disadvantages - their inability to hide the "I think you are a dumbass" opinion from being broadcast on their face can be awkward. It has one distinct advantage though. I can see my kids from the carpool line and know what kind of day they have had. And my little one had a doozy today.

She threw her backpack in and the door had barely closed before she burst into tears. "Jane (not her real name) doesn't want to be my friend and I don't know what to do! She was talking right in front me and said I was mean and told Susie to tell me that she wouldn't be my friend!"

I always feel completely lost in these girly drama situations. I don't handle crying well and honestly I am as clueless as anyone on the inner social dynamics of most relationships. Surprisingly some people don't like me. I say surprisingly because I like pretty much everyone so I expect it to be reciprocal. I adore my children so I expect everyone else will also. I feel completely inept guiding my children through these minefields and end up trying to apply my science brain - only time will tell if that is effective.

So logically my first question is if the little girl has a point? - Is she mean? That was answered strongly in the negative which I would expect - my little one is a lot of things including dramatic, messy, even a little bit of a know it all but not mean. So here comes the hard lesson for my baby - not everyone is going to be your friend. You can't make anyone be friends with you and there is nothing you can do to "fix" it. And most of the time when someone is mean to you it has everything to do with them and nothing to do with you. And it hurts because everyone wants to be liked and it is okay for it to hurt.

I look at my little girl and I see a loyal, intelligent, vivacious, compassionate, loving little girl that anyone would be lucky to call friend. And I don't really care if Jane ever realizes that because at the end of the day I don't really care what Jane thinks. But I hope that my daughter knows it and feels it and lives it. Because there will always be a Jane - someone who doesn't want to or cant see the valuable things that she offers, who is mean and hurtful, who excludes instead of includes, who tears down instead of builds up. Life is about realizing that what the Janes of the world think about you doesn't matter - what you think about you matters.

Running with Cerebral Palsy

2011-10-08T20:49:00.003-05:00

My daughter is a runner. I love the way those words roll off the tongue - I get excited every time I say it. My daughter is a runner. I just want to pinch myself. My daughter is a runner.

I remember when Caitlin took her first stumbling little steps after her 2nd birthday. She looked like a drunken sailor and fell about every third step. We had to buy special (read expensive) shoes because her feet were so stiff and inflexible. She cracked a bone in her eye socket about 6 weeks after she started walking and if you have never taken a 2 yr old to the emergency room with a broken eye socket you don't truly know the meaning of third degree interrogation.

We were so busy taking each day as it came and trying to provide everything she needed to be the best she could be that we really didn't think too much about the future. Watching that stumbling, black-eyed little girl, I would never have believed that she would run with such a strong, balanced gait.

Every time she finishes a race I find myself wanting to tell everyone around that she has cerebral palsy. I want them to understand what she has overcome to even be on that field much less crossing the finish line. The pain she has endured, the hours of therapy, the braces, the torn hamstrings, the broken elbow and thumb, and her own fear that she wouldn't be able to do it.

And none of those people know any of that. All they see is another girl crossing the finish line -not the fastest but not the slowest. They have no idea how hard she has worked to be considered one of many. That it is a personal achievement for her to blend in so seamlessly as to remain unnoticed.

My daughter is an athlete. She is a runner who runs for the sheer love of running, she runs to feel normal, she runs to prove she can.

Whoever, However You Are

2011-01-27T10:22:00.009-06:00

In many cultures the thirteenth birthday is a transition from childhood to adulthood that is commemorated with some grand event - a bat mitzvah, a hunt, even marriage in some cases. The most we could come up with was adding you to our cell phone plan as a sign of your maturity and "separateness" from us. It seemed kind of pale so I decided to write you a letter. The teenage years are notoriously difficult between moms and daughters. You will want desperately to prove that you are not me and I will also desperately want to keep you from making the mistakes that the me I was at your age made. And that leads to conflicts and tears and slammed doors and often several years of not quite fitting together as the perfect little pair the way we did when you were little.

So many times parents speak of their hopes and dreams for their children all underlined with the idea that at the end of the day their child be happy. When you were born I only hoped that you would survive - your life at the time was too tenous to imagine what profession you might have as an adult. I begged, bargained, pleaded, prayed that you would continue to keep taking one breath after another. I promised myself that if you did make it, I would be grateful for each one of those breaths. That I would not lay a heavy burden of expectation on your shoulders to chafe under - that I would let you be you and be thankful for it.

I have not always succeeded in that promise. Gratitude in some ways can be like grief - when it is fresh it overwhelms the mind and the senses and pushes everything else away. But as time goes on while it doesn't lessen in strength it comes to visit less often. When you were a baby I would lay next to you almost every day and listen to you breathe watching as your tiny chest rose and fell. Awed by the evidence of your warrior spirit and humbled that I was your mother. I no longer watch you breathe with the ardency of a new mother but last week you walked out onto the deck and raised your face and closed your eyes to take a deep breath and smell the grass after the rain. I listened to you breathe and watched your chest rise and fall and once again I was awed by your spirit and humbled to be your mother.

Your favorite book as a toddler was Maybe my Baby by Irene O'book. The cute little rhyme in it always captured perfectly how I felt -

But Diver or Driver
Inventor or Star
I'll Love you
Whoever, However
You are

I am thankful for who you are and the woman that I can see glimmers of you becoming. I love you so much and I am always proud of you.

Transferring Power

2010-01-26T22:44:00.004-06:00

Caitlin turns 12 today. It doesn't even seem possible that the little beanie baby sized baby that we carefully held, negotiating tubes and wires, is now in her last year of preteendom. Tonight I was talking with some women about my pregnancy with her and when she was little and it seems so close behind me as if it was yesterday.

I remember so clearly my first doctor's visit when I was pregnant and being devastated when the doctor so bluntly told me that the chances of me having a live baby were close to zero and asking if I had considered abortion. I rejected that and decided to go ahead with my pregnancy.

Then she was born and we were given the horror stories of 24 week preemies - that if she did live which was an enormous elephant in the room sized IF - that she would have very little chance of being normal. I rejected that and decided that she would live.

Then she had a brain bleed on her third day of life and also needed heart surgery. On my 23rd birthday still in the hospital recovering, a surgeon told us that she might not make it through the surgery and that her brain bleed could progress to "catastrophic". I rejected that and waited in my hospital bed with my birthday flowers surrounding me for news that she had come out of surgery alive.

Then she was home and we were told that her prognosis was poor and she was unlikely to walk or talk. I rejected that and believed that she would run one day.

Then she was a toddler and we were told that her hands would never be strong enough to write or cut or dress herself. I rejected that and had faith that she would tie her own shoes one day.

Then she was 9 and the doctor said that she would be in a wheelchair by 18 unless her legs were stretched and she received hamstring and heel cord surgery around 12. I reject that and I am watching her legs accommodate her growth without surgery.

I have seen my daughter through the whole spectrum of her life and I have seen her live, and walk, and talk, and run, and tie her shoes. I have seen her do all the things that she was never supposed to be able to do. I have always had faith in her and for her. Now she must have faith in herself and reject the harsh words of a surgeon, an unkind remark from a friend, the disbelief of a teacher or diagnostician. I can support her and stand by her but I can no longer choose for her. She owns her own mind and is reaching the age that my belief and faith in her has to become her own confidence and self-assurance. She has to now choose to reject the negative and embrace the belief in the future positive.

Facing the Door

2010-01-23T16:18:00.002-06:00

I started school this week so I have been unusually busy but I fell back into the usual school routine including the fact that I always sit in the last row in my classrooms. I also sit with my back to the wall in a restaurant, a bar, and I even stand with my back to the wall at the kids school assemblies. I have never liked the sensation of strangers being behind me and I can't relax if my back is to the door.

I have always known this about myself and it is somewhat of a joke with people that know me well. But I didn't realize until this week that there is one situation where these rules don't apply. If I am with my husband or my father I don't care who is behind me or if my back is to the door. I am a very observant person - sometimes people assume that because I talk alot (and I do) that I don't listen and pay attention to what is going on around me. But I always survey my surroundings, I usually catalog the people in my immediate area, and I look for the nearest exits to wherever I am in case of an emergency and I do it somewhat subconsciously. I remain aware when I am out which is why even on my girls weekends I go back to the hotel before I get truly snockered. Once I feel my ability to be "aware" become impaired I grab a taxi and head back home (even if home is the Hyatt).

But with my Dad and Jeff I can truly relax and let my guard down. Most of the time that is a good thing - a chance to regroup and recharge. The comfort level does have a down side as evidenced by New Years Eve this year. I was with Jeff so my "moment" where I would stop drinking and head back to the hotel came and went because I knew Jeff would make sure that I made it back home safely. And I did but not before being more inebriated in public than I have been in at least 15 years.

I have been examining my habits lately to become more aware of the things that I do and examine why I do them. It is not that I think facing the door is a bad habit but I find it interesting that I take responsibility for my own safety and the safety of those around me in every situation but those in which my father or husband is present.

Self-Reliance vs. Presumption

2010-01-11T19:47:00.004-06:00

The other day a very wise friend of mine was talking about siblings and how often the way they relate to each other is indicative of how they relate to the world. In her case, her oldest daughter often takes responsibility for her younger brothers and while that trait can be helpful at home - the "big sister" mentality and resulting bossiness often doesn't work out in the real world of 4th grade. It was a lightbulb moment for me in regards to my son Devin.

He is the child that makes everything work with his siblings. Partly it is his personality which has always had a certain "mother hen" component. He knows the rules and want to make sure that everyone follows them correctly and he knows what needs to get done and he wants to see it done correctly. So he is the one that always opened the door for Caitlin before she learned how to do it herself, he is the one that empties the trash without being asked because it needs to be done, he is the one that will set up the game for Hannah while I am cooking dinner. Right or wrong he often takes responsibility for everything running smoothly and I don't correct that tendency because it is helpful to me at home.

But I never thought how that caretaking and mediating trait would apply outside of our home. It has become expected that Devin often works out issues on his own and we have even encouraged this trait. Unfortunately, we have not taken the time to explain that there are some issues that we as his parents have to handle. Case in point - Devin got upset with something that a neighbor child was doing and so he marched himself over to his house and preceded to tell the neighbors Mom (very undiplomatically) that he did not like what her son was doing and that she needed to make him stop. She was less than understanding and so he repeated his demand in the way only Devin can - so matter of fact and expectant. Our neighbor is kind of an ass anyway so this presumption on my son's part did not go well.

When we talked to him about it, he just could not understand what he had done wrong. Why it was wrong for him to try and "handle" a disagreement with a neighbor who was an adult and why those issues should be left to my husband and I. I felt like beating my head against the wall - he felt like we weren't standing up for him because our neighbor was such an ass to him and we couldn't get him to understand that our position was affected because he had taken on an issue that should be left to adults. We pretty much left it at a standstill - he still didn't understand but accepted our new rule that any complaints that needed to be made to an adult had to be filtered through us first until we can explain how to handle out of family disagreements appropriately.

And then the next day - my lightbulb moment. Hearing Shari talk about how kids relate to the world, Devin is our self-reliant fixer - of course he would assume that he could just march over to the neighbors to air his grievance. We have taught him to be an independent problem solver and that is his first reaction to a problem "How can I solve this expediently?". Now we just need to teach him the social guidelines of adult/child interactions or put another way - telling the neighbor that her kid is a destructive jerk (even if he is) may not be the best way to handle things.

Unsung Hero

2009-12-20T21:36:00.004-06:00

I rarely write about my husband - for several reasons. Blogs are used mostly as a catharsis - a way to bleed out positive or negative emotions and process them. While I have no problem letting out my feeling for the world to see, I guard my relationship with my husband very closely. I love him very much and I do not want to say something that would embarrass him or make him feel uncomfortable. And if I am angry at him I choose to speak to him about it. I am not one for venting to friends about my husband or man bashing.

Jeff is not a flashy guy, he is extremely unpretentious. He sometimes (well frequently) says the wrong thing and can be as romantic as a bag of rocks. Like most truly great men, he is substance over style. He is the quiet, humble workhorse that keeps moving forward even when he wants to sit in the sand. And he loves me - I mean he really, really loves me no matter what. Even when I act like a crazy bitch, even when I say mean things, even when I whine and pout.

And he gets very little credit for the unwavering support he provides our family, the continual effort to improve our lives, and the patience he shows all of us. The last five years he has worked so hard to graduate from college - I cried watching him walk across the stage today. I am just so proud of him. He had to make so many sacrifices and he has had to miss so much the last few years to get his degree. During the five years that he has been in school, I have had five surgeries. So in addition to working full-time and going to school full time, he also had to be essentially a single parent for the 12 months of recovery that those 5 surgeries required.

He is the unsung hero - his effort often going unnoticed or even taken for granted. But without him our family would grind to a halt.

Watershed Moments

2009-12-14T23:17:00.003-06:00

My next door neighbors daughter died yesterday. She was only 16. It is hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that she is gone. We have lived here a long time and I have watched her grow from the little girl Hannah's age jumping on the trampoline and practicing her cheerleading moves in the front yard to the more poised teenager with a cell phone attached to her hand at all times.

Everyone has watershed moments that define their lives into "before X" and "after X". For me having Caitlin was my watershed moment. The experience of her birth and long term hospitalization fundamentally changed me and I was never again to be the person I was before she was born. But my moment that fundamentally changed my perspective and life had a happy ending - Caitlin lived.

Losing a child in a horrific accident would have to be a watershed moment for a parent. I can't even imagine the grief of my neighbor - I don't want to because it makes me too sad. Irrevocably her life is now separated into Before Taylor died and After. And it is so unfair - unfair that such a young, beautiful girl has been snatched away in the prime of her life, unfair that her brother has lost his big sister, unfair that her mother is enduring the soul wrenching grief that has no name and no bottom.

I tell my children that life is unfair all the time. To palliate their disappointment usually but even if trite and contrived - it is true. Life is hard and harsh and often terribly unfair. And because of that we must value each moment - each joy no matter how small, to feel and live and be grateful for each breath we are given.

Double the Embarrassment

2009-12-10T21:28:00.003-06:00

Tonight was Hot Cocoa with Santa at the kids school. I had my doubts before we even went - today was a very busy day with hardly a moment to sit down much less catch my breath. But the kids really wanted to go so despite my reservations they put on their jammies and big fluffy robes and we headed off to school.

It was about as miserable as I expected - despite warning the kids that they were welcome to show me the books that they wanted from the book fair I would not be buying anything tonight - they were still upset that I didn't whip out the checkbook. Even though you would think they would realize by now that every year the books they point out at the December book fair end up under the tree. Devin refused to take a picture with Santa. OK fine. We had cocoa, listened to The Night before Christmas, the girls took their picture with Santa and I was ready to get the hell out of dodge.

Stepping into the car, Hannah and Devin started fighting over who was going to sit in the back. Once this fight came to blows (about 3 seconds later) I kicked them both out of my car and told them that they were welcome to get back in the car once they had worked out their disagreement and calmed down. For the next five minutes, Caitlin and I sat in the warm car while Devin and Hannah attempted to work it out. Or I should say Devin because Hannah proceeded to lose her ever loving mind and stuck her fingers in her ears and screamed whenever he tried to talk to her. I allowed Devin back into the car and stood outside and tried to speak reasonably to Hannah. Letting her know that she would be welcome back into the car when she calmed down and stopped crying. Who knew this was the magic button to cause Hannah to completely fall apart.

Hannah proceeded to spend the next 45 minutes screaming at the top of her lungs, crying and throwing herself on the ground, screaming at me to just leave, she didn't need me, she would just walk home. To say that this behavior is out of character for Hannah would be a massive understatement. It was like watching the Invasion of the Body Snatchers. She actually stomped off towards the road (in her jammies!) righteously indignant screaming that she was leaving all of us, that she didn't want us anymore. WTF?? Caught between the opposite urges to laugh and spank her, I wisely decided to call my husband. I was initially going to have him pick up the other kids because the way it was going little Hannah was going to end up sleeping on the curb because she was not going to calm down enough to get in my car.

The calvary arrived (in the form of Daddy) and I took a Hannah break. I hate when my children lose it at school or church because along with trying to handle the very real parenting issue that must be dealt with, I have to tamp down my embarrassment. I was mortified that my child was screaming at the top of her lungs in the school parking lot but I will be damned if I am going to let a tasmanian devil sit in my car. I have very few absolutely zero tolerance rules but behaving in the car is one of them. If the kids are acting like asses at home - I am free to leave the room or encourage them to leave the room that I am in. But in the car you are trapped so I have very little tolerance for misbehavior. I refuse to subject myself to a crying, whining, fighting child in a close, confined space so I have been through the gauntlet with all of my children - stopping by the side of the road and standing outside the car with them while they pull themselves back together.

So now little Hannah is in bed, sleeping the way only a child who has just completed a head spinning exorcism tantrum can and I am hoping to wake up to my usual Hannah in the morning. The one who smiles sweetly and laughs loudly and knows better than to be disrespectful to Mommy.

Capture the Moment

2009-12-04T19:27:00.002-06:00

I got to pick the kids up at noon today from school and it was snowing!! Snow in Houston shuts the entire city down - schools close, municipal courts close, and the news goes to wall to wall coverage. It is an event. This is only the second time it has snowed in their lives and the first time it was very light and didn't stick.

My friend and I picked up the kids and luckily she is as childish as I am so within 5 minutes of getting the kids we had stopped at a huge field for an impromptu snowball fight. The kids were practically vibrating in excitement and they got their first lesson in how truly cold snow is - within minutes my son was ready to go because his hands were numb from cold. We dropped off my now cold and wet friend, bought some waterproof gloves, and then headed home.

Immediately we threw some more snowballs, built some miniature snowmen, and just played like children until the snot started freezing to our faces. The snow only lasted a few hours but it was such a memory making moment with the kids. I love this part of parenting - capturing a moment in time, throwing away the normal schedule and just having fun.

Transformations

2009-11-22T16:12:00.003-06:00

I should make all my pics black and white. And apparently despite all the partying I got much more sleep as a teenager because I look much less tired.

I moved in with my Dad when I was 16. Moving halfway through high school provided a unique opportunity - I could be whoever I wanted to be. Except for two years I had spent my entire school life with the same kids. I knew the football star had peed his pants in 4th grade, the pretty girl used to pick her nose, and one little boy had his lunch inspected every day to make sure there was no sugar in it. And who was I? - the brain. The smart kid who had been in G/T classes since forever, who never felt comfortable in her own skin, and who was terribly shy.

Except in a new place I didn't have to be. When I moved at 16 I decided no one was going to know I was a "smart girl" - I wanted a new identity. Don't get me wrong, the bimbo style never suited me but when I stayed home to finish the end of the Gulag Archipelago instead of going to the big party I kept it to myself. So followed several years of tremendously bad choices because I was just faking the new me - I still didn't feel comfortable in my own skin and on the inside I was still terribly shy but now I was the party girl instead of the smart girl. And neither girl was totally completely me. As a teenager I was too insecure to be the me that I really am - the smart, well-read girl who loves to have a good time, values family and friends, and would rather talk to someone one-on one than be in a huge crowd.

And after school I got the same chance. I moved with my fiance and got to put my wild child past behind me. All those bad choices stayed in Corpus and I moved away from them. My friends know that I was a wild girl back then but what does that really mean to them - most of them have never even seen me drunk. And needless to say I kept the really bad stuff to myself, the choices that you just shake your head at once you become an adult and wonder WTF you were thinking. And thank the good lord Youtube, sexting, and camera phones didn't exist when we were kids.

But this morning I found out that the new pastor at my church went to high school with me - to the wild child one not the brainy one. So now my old life and my new life are merging and I am not sure I really like it. I have enjoyed the ability to edit my younger life and only share the stuff that sounds like funny kids stupidity. The kids will be kids kind of stuff. I know she isn't going to stand up on the altar on Sunday morning with a megaphone to broadcast my spectacularly bad choices but it is just weird to me. I am still that very private person who always decides what to keep private and I have had that luxury because with moving comes any transformation you want - from smart girl to party girl to married suburban mom.

Playground Justice

2009-11-12T22:14:00.004-06:00

Children are encouraged to use their words, cooperate, share, take turns, be nice, gentle hands, turn the other cheek, tell the teacher, get mommy or daddy to help, ignore a bully, walk away. And 99% of the time, those strategies are effective. But sometimes a push, a shove, a snub says more than a 1,000 words would have. Sometimes playground justice works.

I have always encouraged my children to use their words to solve a problem but I will admit to being a little laissez faire when I can see that they have used their words and words haven't worked. I have conveniently looked away and let playground justice rule. When Caitlin was 4 this little boy threw mud in her face. She shook her little preschool finger at him and calmly in a sing song voice said, "No, No". He threw mud in her face again and she again calmly wagged her little finger and sing songed, "No, No". This time the parents (me and his mother) added our own not so sing songy "No, Nos". But the third time he threw mud in her face my little darling leaned down and picked up the whiffle ball bat by her feet, swung from her toes, and knocked the crap out of that kid. She then calmly dropped the bat, stood over the little boy who was now laying on the ground with the little whiffle holes impressed on his face and again sing songed, "I said No, No" He stopped throwing mud on her.

My son is very nonviolent and will do almost anything to avoid a confrontation. However he is a mother hen and the appointed protector of his sisters. I have seen him chase down a boy twice his size at the playground who made his big sister cry and demand that he apologize. He has threatened to break off a friendship with a neighbor who was not treating his sisters respectfully. And after watching a little boy push his sister to the ground twice (in very rapid succession), he pushed back harder and made the little boy rethink his methods.

So tonight when my little one was playing football and she steamrolled through the line and a little boy yanked her ponytail after the whistle, I wasn't too concerned. I immediately saw her grab her little ponytail and turn and point at the little boy that pulled it. If I know little Hannah I can guess that her words were "Next Play". And the next play she was off like a bullet after that little boy but the play was too quick, the whistle blew. Next Play - again she is off and when he put his arms up to try and block her she pushed in close, reached up behind his back, curled her little dainty fingers into the back of his hair, and yanked for all it was worth. Her ponytail was safe for the rest of the game.

I am not one to jump into my children's squabbles. I try to stand back and let them come to a solution themselves because I will not always be available to mediate and they have to learn how to problem solve. Most of the time words work but sometimes actions speak louder than words. And I am OK with that.

Fighting Acquired Dependency

2009-11-09T21:03:00.003-06:00

Encouraging dependence in a child with a disability can handicap them much more than whatever physical disability they have to overcome. Each year we want Caitlin to become more capable, more independent, more able to handle the details of her daily life. And that means that sometimes we have to encourage her through her frustration, stand back and let her fail, or even have a coming to Jesus meeting about keeping track of her lunch box and homework assignments.

People want to help Caitlin, they want her to be happy, even her cat follows her around the house as her own personal kittyguard but sometimes we help too much. And by helping too much she is left with the impression that people think she can't do it herself. And she can. She is capable, she is smart, she is a great problem solver. I worry sometimes that people who see me interact with my daughter will think that I am being mean to her because I expect the same standard of respect and hard work that I do from my other children. She doesn't get some special pass because of Cerebral Palsy. Sometimes I tell her to suck it up and get over it, I give her the opportunity to solve her own problems instead of jumping in, and I thank her when she goes above and beyond.

I don't want to encourage her to need me more and more as life goes on. The goal is for her to Acquire Independence not Dependence. And she is step by step, day by day. I had to snap a picture today while she was doing her homework by herself (and her little kittyguard sitting close by) because this is what we have been working towards all these years. A child that comes home with all of her assignments and begins her work independently, who helps with dinner, takes responsibility for laying out her clothes and taking her bath, and believes that she is capable of it. Not every day is a success but independence is a process.

The Importance of Friends

2009-11-08T00:54:00.003-06:00

Watching my niece and daughter trade secrets today reminded me of when I was little and my cousin Margaret and I would see-saw at my grandparents ranch and talk about everything and nothing. Or when Diana and I crashed the golf cart into the playground fence at the ranch....well not such a good example because I threw her under the bus and had her tell grandma while I sat in grandpa's office and ate a lollipop even though I was the one driving.

But maybe that is the point - family and friendship isn't always fair but it usually is pretty even. Sometimes you are the secret teller and sometimes the secret keeper but everyone needs someone to share their secrets with. Someone who knows what scares you, what thrills you, the real story behind how you and your husband got together, and what you wish could be different.

Friends are the ones who know all your secrets and love you anyway.

Completing the Circle

2009-11-04T08:45:00.004-06:00

It is a measure of the life that Jeff and I led that this picture of Hannah right after she was born looks like a healthy baby. She may be under an oxygen hood, connected to a million wires, and have an IV but it is what wasn't there that thrilled us 7 years ago. She doesn't have IV's running through her belly button (so she was healthy enough for them to risk losing the best neonatal IV site), she doesn't have a respirator tube coming out of her mouth, she doesn't have eye protectors taped over her face to protect her underdeveloped eyes, she doesn't have vaseline rubbed over her skin to retain her moisture, and she isn't covered with a saran wrap "blanket" to keep in heat. She may have looked "sick" to other people but for the first time we had what we considered in our warped experience a healthy Gerber baby.

My little girl just turned 7 yesterday and as usual I paused to reflect on where I was the day she was born and where we have come since then. My pregnancy with Hannah was miserable and the day she was born was no better. I had been on bedrest for over 4 months and the last two months of that was spent in the hospital. I missed my husband, my two other children, and my home desperately. I was in tremendous pain all the time from the scars in my belly from prior surgeries, the preterm labor, and the fact that the pressure of my darling daughter had cracked my pelvis 6 weeks before she was born. I had a notebook I kept next to my bed with the days of my pregnancy counted down and I would look at it throughout the day because I knew every day I spent pregnant was equivalent to two days that Hannah would stay out of the NICU.

My pregnancy was a lonely one emotionally also. My previous pregnancies had been so bad and the kids so ill when they were born that everyone was worried that this would be the time that our luck would run out. My husband, my friends, and the rest of my family were afraid to get "attached" for fear that this would be the baby that didn't make it. And my delivery with my son was so horrific that half my family was convinced I was going to bleed out on the operating table.

But Hannah was the completion, the close of the circle, and the healer of our family. My delivery was still awful but for the first time I got to hold my child in the OR instead of waiting weeks, for the first time I could see my childs face and feel the miniscule weight of her body in my arms before all the wires and tubes were added. It was such a miraculous moment. For the first time I had a baby that I could breastfeed without requiring equipment that made me feel like a cow on a milking machine. I had a baby that only stayed in the hospital two weeks! And one that didn't come home with oxygen and monitors and medicine. I had a baby that I could walk into the kitchen with and make a glass of water because I didn't have to keep her at least ten feet away from my gas stove (because of oxygen tubes). It was liberating.

She was the one that finally showed us how easy it was to have a normal baby. She helped us to forgive ourselves for our marital discord, physical and emotional exhaustion, and feelings of helplessness and loss when our other children were young. We realized that it wasn't us, our marriage wasn't doomed, we weren't bad parents - it just really was that hard to have children that sick. And she continues to be a light in our lives - bringing joy and healing just by being Hannah.

I became a mother when I had my oldest - I gained confidence that I was a good mother when I had my youngest.

12 year difference

2009-11-02T21:24:00.002-06:00

We went out to eat as a family the other day and as we were all piling out of the car a girl ran up and said to my oldest daughter, "Is your name Caitlin?" Caitlin nodded and said yes. This girl then said, "We used to play together at School X elementary and on the playground". I am very rarely at a loss for words, in fact I talk entirely too much but I was struck mute for at least 15 seconds (a record).

This girl looked at least 16 or 17, was leaning up against some boys car when we parked in front of the restaurant, and was dressed like your average lady of the night - daisy dukes, tank top, heavy, heavy eye makeup, and very large earrings. All I could think was when the eff did you and my daughter play - were you her tutor? So I finally regained my tongue and asked her what grade she was in now. The hoochie chick was 12!!!! She was only one grade ahead of my daughter and less than one year older.

Sweet baby jesus. What happened to this little girl? How could her and my daughter be so close in age and be so completely different? I still have to remind my daughter to brush her hair and this girl is obviously using more beauty products than I do. Why is there such a deep divide among young girls in maturity. The sad thing is that this young hoochie girl represents the status quo for her age much more than my child. Our young girls are becoming much too sexualized at younger and younger ages.

Does this little girl have someone in her life to tell her that she is beautiful and worthy of respect? Does she have someone who will forcefully tell the man in the Camaro that she is 12 and to stay the hell away from her. Does she have someone to ask where she is going and who with and when she will be back? Does she have anyone to talk to her about sex and love and respect? Does she have anyone to tell her how smart and worthy and amazing she is and that her validation comes from who she is as a child of God and not what the boy down the street thinks of her. I hope she does have at least one person that gives her that support but I am afraid she doesn't.

When Caitlin was in the NICU her "suite mate" was a little boy named Ethan. For several months their isolettes were in the same room and day after day I saw this little boy in his bed with no visitors. Despite the rules, after spending time with my daughter I would rescrub up, regown and talk to this little boy, hold his feet and hands, and hope for him. The night before we took Caitlin home I dreamt that I snuck Ethan out in a little shoe box - I wanted to bring him home with me so badly. This young girl certainly couldn't fit in a little shoe box but I had that same urge to steal her away and take her home. To a place where she would be noticed and valued and hoped for.

The Forgotten Good

2009-10-26T07:39:00.003-05:00

Why is it so much more socially acceptable to bitch and complain about our kids then just take a moment and build them up and acknowledge how good they are. My kids are incredible - amazingly compassionate, generous, forgiving, and kind to others. They are conscientious about completing their chores and homework. They look for ways to be helpful to neighbors and elderly or disabled people when we are out in public. Do I sound like I am bragging? Well I am - I hope you have kids that are as awesome as mine.

If I was with a group of my friends and told them how my two oldest nearly came to blows getting dressed for acolyting yesterday, or that my youngest daughter dissolved into an exorcist tantrum because I had the temerity to ask her to get all her crap out of the living room most moms would laugh in commiseration and tell me their own tales of sibling rivalry woe. Their kids that dump the laundry right outside the laundry basket, the one that does their homework and then doesn't turn it in, or the one that cries if they don't get the "right" seat in the car. It is a type of motherhood solidarity built on complaints.

But we forget or overlook or undervalue the good.

This same weekend that Caitlin and Devin nearly came to blows and Hannah had a head spinning tantrum - Devin filled in as the tooth fairy when we forgot. Hannah woke me up crying on Saturday because the tooth fairy forgot her, Devin heard her and quickly took money out of his piggy bank and stuffed it under her pillow. He came in and asked if she had really looked hard for the money. He made her day.

Caitlin asked a neighbor child to come to church with us and stayed with her the whole time and introduced her to other people to make sure she felt comfortable.

Hannah won a toy at the Fall Fest and immediately turned around and gave it to the little girl who had played the game and was near tears because she couldn't win the big prize.

For every one time my kids lose their ever-loving minds and throw a lunch box in frustration or punch their brother over a chess game or slam a door - there are ten times that they help a neighbor with Halloween decorations or raking leaves, carry groceries for the elderly person at the Kroger, apologize to their sister and ask forgiveness, give a hug, give an encouraging word, pray for an enemy, or just smile and brighten someone's day. I need to forget the bad and not the good.

On the Cheap

2009-10-22T09:48:00.003-05:00

I realized today after putting foil over the crockpot lid that I am steadily turning into my mother and grandfather. I have to put foil over the crockpot lid because I broke the original lid and I picked up a crockpot lid at a garage sale and it is just a little too big so I use the foil to hold in the heat. I store the foil piece with the crockpot so I can reuse it because why throw away a piece of foil that never touched any food?

I can afford to replace my crockpot just like I can afford to replace my colander with no handles and my rolling pin with a crack in it. I just don't want to. I can still make them work with very little inconvenience and save that money (and landfill space) for something else.

Yes, I am "that" woman. The one that thinks duct tape will fix just about anything, the one that cuts the lotion container in half once it runs out because it still has about an ounce of lotion in it, the one that washes out big peanut butter jars to store grains like rice, quinoa, and pearl barley that comes from the store in bags. To me it becomes kind of a game - I like things to be organized and to get good use of out things but I don't want to have to get a job to buy crap from the container store.

When I was a child and I saw my mother wash out ziploc bags and my grandfather tear a paper towel in half because he thought your toweling needs did not merit a full towel all I saw was the inconsistency. Why wash out the bags and then blow a wad at Carmellos, why tear paper towels in half when grandma wears diamonds and emeralds the size of Latin America. Now I understand - I won't replace my colander which would cost about two dollars because my old one still works but I use a chef's knife that could buy me 100 new colanders.

I enjoy being frugal and I treat it like a game. But I don't hesitate to invest in things that matter to me and being frugal in other areas allows me to do that. Being cheap doesn't mean always buying cheap.

Football and Autism

2009-10-20T22:52:00.003-05:00

When my son first asked to play football, I was not too excited about the idea. I wasn't so concerned that he would get hurt but that the physical "closeness" of football would be too much for him. Football players stand very close to each other, they touch each other constantly whether by blocking or tackling, and there is a subtle communications dynamic within a team that I was afraid would be beyond him. Some of my concerns were valid - at first he would flinch whenever one of the players touched him, he has a hard time practicing when it is muddy because his hands get dirty, and his coaches have had to adjust their style to accommodate the fact that he must be told EXACTLY what you want from him.

But you can't deny the smile. I have very few pictures of my son looking straight at the camera and smiling a natural smile. Football has been great therapy for him. It has stretched his physical boundaries - he is more comfortable with touch than he was before. It has forced him to focus on nonverbal indicators, to suck it up when he gets dirt under his fingernails, and to be encouraging or consoling with a teammate. He has been expected to behave with discipline and to self correct his actions and he has risen to the challenge.

It is easy to forget how much has changed. When my son was three I locked myself in the bathroom and sobbing, called my mother. I had just had my youngest daughter and I just didn't know what to do with this 3 yr old little boy that didn't talk, wouldn't look me in the eye, arched away from me whenever I tried to hug or kiss him, and destroyed things every day. I was mentally and physically exhausted and felt like the worst mother in the world. Did other mothers lock themselves in the bathroom because their son had completely destroyed their makeup for the third time and call their mommy(despite the fact that that the makeup was hidden so that he couldn't get to it), did other mothers have that awful mothering moment where they wondered if they were really up to this, did other mothers wish they could run away from home without the kids. I didn't think so and so I heaped guilt on myself because not only did I have two children with disabilities but I obviously was not up to the task of raising them.

Devin loves playing football and he might have become a little obsessed with game scores from all the Superbowls and player stats but he also smiles naturally and enjoys himself. 6 years ago when I was still hiding in the bathroom and crying, the life that we live now seemed an impossible dream. I no longer feel like running away from home (mostly) and I am able to find joy in and with my son. I can appreciate his little quirks because they combine with his courage and tenacity and sincerity that makes him such an incredible little boy.

Investing in Children

2009-10-08T00:34:00.002-05:00

I have been thinking today about the investment that we put into our children as parents. It goes way beyond the financial investment although that certainly is part of it. Lord knows I have done without because Devin needs football pads, Caitlin needs art supplies, or Hannah needs a new leotard. We invest our time, our energy - both physical and emotional, and our money to raise our children to be faithful, productive, persistent, compassionate, reasoned, well-rounded adults. But when do we become too invested in our children?

I was speaking to a friend today who has three beautiful children and all of her time and energy is invested in their lives. She keeps nothing back for herself - letting her interests and desires be subjugated for the benefit of her family. How many of us are gulty of this? Running every errand known to man for our kids, husband, PTO, church and not taking 5 minutes to refresh ourselves or follow our own desires. And then what happens? We have nothing left for ourselves and so become overinvested in our children and take responsibility where none exists.

I have a responsibility to my children and husband and I certainly do not want to shirk that but sometimes like my friend, I take too much responsibility. My husband and I provide a warm, loving home, nutritious food, and clean clothing to our children. We also provide quiet areas for our children to do homework and are available to answer questions during homework time. We play with our children and we love them unconditionally. We pray with and for our children and encourage them to always try their best, to not give up because something is hard, and to pursue their dreams and believe in themselves as much as we believe in them. I feel those are our legitimate responsibilities.

But it is easy to become overinvested and take on responsibilities that do not belong on our shoulders. I do not need to feel responsible for my child's bad choices (because we teach them right from wrong), I do not need to feel responsible for a bad test grade (because we have provided an environment and encouragement to succeed), and I do not need to feel responsible for my child's bad day (because we love our kids no matter what).

I love my children to distraction but I have to save something for myself. I never wanted to "wake up" in a decade with all my children out of the nest and have to reintroduce myself to my husband and find a life because I had neglected my own for so long. Sometimes I can be selfish with my time and I expect my kids to take on a lot of responsibility but it is important that they understand two things - the world does not revolve around them, and I, as their mother, have just as much right to live my dreams, pursue my interests as they do.

Sandwich Generation

2009-09-27T11:40:00.004-05:00

What is like to be sandwiched between your aging parents and growing children? Frustrating.

I always thought that when it came time to take over some of the caretaking duties of my parents it would be more of a physical demand or time management issue. And there is that - trying to care for three children and manage their schedule while accompanying a parent to the doctor or hospital can require a juggling act or some deft carpool magic. But mostly it is the lack of control that can be frustrating. Being a parent is so much easier than being a daughter.

My children are still of an age that if I want them to take medicine, or lay off soda, or eat 9 servings of fruits and veggies a day I can get it done. I can tell my complaining, intractable children to "suck it up buttercup" and just do it. As my parents can attest, the day will come when my children are not going to comply to my demands but those days are still in the future. My parents, however, are a completely different animal.

5 years ago when I wanted my mother to quit smoking because of her lung condition there was no way for me to just "make it so". And my Dad is supposed to be on a low salt diet for his heart. I could no more order my mother to quit smoking or my Dad to put down the salt shaker than I could make the sky green and therein lies the frustration. When your kids are young you can prevent them from some dumbass decisions but your parents dumbassery is always out of reach. They have to decide for themselves which thankfully my mother did 4 years ago by quitting (my dad is still digging his heels in).

The first time I worried about what my parents had for dinner, threw my arm out when I stopped quickly, and made sure that all the prescriptions were picked up - I knew the caretaking balance had changed. But they are still my parents and can not be ruled by fiat because they still feel the same responsibility for me that I feel for my children. I don't want to insult my parents or patronize them even when I feel like shouting "Suck it up and take the damn antibiotics! and NO chinese food is not low salt!!" Caring for my parents takes finesse, negotiation, and the ability to let it go if they decide not to follow doctor's directions.

Old Fashioned Chicken Soup

2009-09-26T11:39:00.002-05:00

According to a fancy schmancy research study. old fashioned chicken soup does have antiviral properties that help people recover from the flu. The most important part is the stock which when made right and refrigerated should have a gelatin consistency. If you are going to use chicken broth out of a can or box then don't bother. The other critical component is using the chicken neck - apparently this makes the chicken soup more effective.

I make my soup pretty bland because I usually only make it when illness strikes. I also always boil the noodles separately from the soup because noodles release starch into the boiling water and i think it affects the taste of the soup. Plus after the first day the noodles will become mush if you made them with the soup and who wants mushy noodles?

Chicken Stock

1 whole chicken washed, throw away the innards except the neck
5 carrots whole
1 big onion cut in half but you can leave the outside parts on
4 pieces of celery whole
10 sprigs of parsley whole
10 sprigs thyme whole
10 whole peppercorns
3 whole cloves garlic
2 bay leaves
kosher salt
2 to 3 gallons cold water

Throw everything into the biggest stock pot you have, put one of those collapsible veggie steamers upside down on top of everything (this will keep your veggies and chicken submerged) and bring to a boil. Lower to a low boil (just a couple of little bubbles coming to the surface) for one hour. Remove the chicken and pull off all the meat. (if you left the meat on it would be inedible by the end of the stock making). Store the shredded meat in the fridge and throw the bones back in the pot. Simmer the stock on a low boil for 6 hours - add water if necessary to keep veggies and bones covered. Strain the soup into a container, press the bones and meat to get all the stock out. Refrigerate until fat is solidified on the top and remove. Stock can be used immediately, frozen for future use, or boiled every three days and kept in the fridge for at least a week.

Old fashioned Chicken Soup

I am sure by now you recognize the value of having stock in your freezer waiting for when illness strikes so if no one is sick - make it now and be ready. Making chicken soup is super quick if the stock is ready and waiting.

4 cups of chicken stock
4 cups of water
3 stalks celery sliced
6 carrots sliced into rounds
2 cups shredded cooked chicken
egg noodles, COOKED SEPARATELY!!
parsley, fresh chopped fine
1 lemon
Parmesan, grated

Put stock, water, celery, carrots into pot and bring to boil. Lightly boil until carrots and celery are soft. IN ANOTHER POT (yes I am ridiculous about this), make the pasta, drain, and set aside. Add chicken to soup for another 5 minutes. My children hate parsley in their soup which is why I add so much to the stock. So I plate up my soup two ways:

KIDS WAY: Put some pasta in the bottom of the soup bowl, add about 1 1/2 cups of soup, top with a little grated parmesan. Serve with crackers.

MY WAY: Put some pasta in the bottom of the soup bowl, add about 1 1/2 cups of soup, throw in about a teaspoon of fresh parsley and lemon, add some grated parmesan. Serve with crackers.

EVERYONE IS CRAZY SICK WAY: Forget cooking the soup. 1 cup stock to 1 cup water, heat and serve in a coffee mug with a straw.

I know the lemon sounds weird but it makes the whole thing taste fresh. I make the "soup" part of it fresh every time using the pre-made stock.

10 Signs Your Kids are Really Sick and Not Faking It

2009-09-25T12:56:00.003-05:00

10.) Your garbage gut son refuses all food and can't even be enticed by a slushie from Sonic

9.) That same son asks you to help him walk to the bathroom and if you can stay with him while he goes.

8.) Your three children manage to lay in the same bed for hours at a time without arguing about anything.

7.) You can feel the fever baking off your kid before they even touch you.

6.) Your needle phobic daughter doesn't even flinch when she gets the rehydration IV.

5.) Your kids no longer complain about how long a breathing treatment takes or try to turn the Neb machine off early.

4.) Your kid doesn't complain when you give them the Phenergan suppository to stop the vomiting. Worse they don't really even notice.

3.) Despite size evidence to the contrary, you would swear that all of your children have reverted to infancy. They now drink, sleep, and vomit and do nothing else.

2.) Your pediatrician bumps some of her appointments so your germy family are the only ones in the office. And you know they are holding their breath waiting for you to leave so they can lysol lockdown the whole place.

1.) You realize the CDC swine flu symptom list left off a particularly shocking symptom when you check on your daughter and see blood dripping out of her mouth and down her chest. Who knew gums could bleed that much?

Slacker in Stepford Land

2009-09-21T20:26:00.004-05:00

I need to find some new slacker friends. One of my friends today was talking about making her daughter's candy corn Halloween outfit and I know it will probably be the cutest thing ever and she will make the whole damn thing herself. I have never seen her daughter without a cute little matching outfit complete with matching bow. I would really like to dislike my friend for her sheer perky perfection but she is just so nice I can't. Then I have another friend who is one of those people that scouts deals, clips coupons and ends up getting a 100 bucks of food for 3.25....seriously. Another whose house if perfectly decorated and shockingly clean and she always looks so cute.

Who are these nice, friendly stepford women and why do they want to be friends with me? I did 2 loads of laundry today, washed dishes, and made dinner. That is the sum total of my accomplishments for the entire day. I didn't create a pattern and sew some fabulous something, I didn't get a wild hair up my ass and paint my dining room some fabulous new color, I didn't sit down and tutor my kids for an hour, and I paid much less attention to my husband and kids than I probably should have.

I actually groaned when my kids came bounding into the car flapping their fundraiser prize sheets like trophies. I hate fundraisers - I don't want to hawk overpriced shit to all my friends just so I feel obligated to buy overpriced shit when their kids are selling it. I would rather just write a check or even just get each of their teachers something on their wish list. Plus I find the whole fundraiser "presentation" to the kids to get them excited over the crappy prizes to be a little underhanded. Here I am trying to teach my children to understand value for money spent, budgeting for the things you want and I am going to send them out to sell 15 dollar tubs of cookie dough. Really?

I know there are women that love to plan the carnival, blow the top off the fundraisers, and be the team/room/SS/everything under the sun mom - I am friends with quite a few of them and as much as I would like to convince myself otherwise (if only to palliate myself) they are normal, nice women. What is wrong with me that the thought of planning the school carnival makes me want to stick a fork in my eye? When the PTO president asked me to do it several years ago I actually had a visceral reaction and immediately shouted NO, NO, NO. That would be the WORST carnival EVER - my idea of fun is putting white t-shirts on and spraying each other with fabric dye water guns. I think it is fun to play in the mud. I can't even be a freaking cafeteria monitor because I never think the kids are getting too loud - which is interesting since I require complete silence in the car.

I am looking to find my niche and am left to wonder if I should just make peace with being the slacker wife and mom that makes everyone else feel productive.

You can't Judge a Book

2009-09-17T17:20:00.003-05:00

My son is very angry with me and the worst part is he has every right to be. It is so easy to make accommodations for my daughter because cerebral palsy is a PHYSICAL disability - it is visual, it is obvious, and it demands accommodation. Devin is different and sometimes I forget that he THINKS differently than I do, that he doesn't understand things the same way that I do, and I don't always make the adjustments he needs when I deal with his issues.

I remember getting so pissed off at a lady at church because she made the comment that Devin looked so normal she would never know that he had autism. First because there was the background insinuation that it was obvious that there was something wrong with Caitlin (which is enough to make me see red anyway) but also that he was so lucky that he appeared normal. In some ways it makes it so much harder for him.

He is brilliant and beautiful and seems so normal so much of the time that it is difficult for people to believe that he has a disability. And sometimes I forget too. And I react with frustration and dismissal when he cries over something that I think is so inconsequential but that his rigid thinking and lack of flexibility makes him think is worth crying over.

He wont use anything that is orange, he doesn't like to eat carrots anymore because they are orange, he has decided he doesn't like someone because they like UT, he said even if UT offered him a scholarship he wouldn't go. These seem like such minor things but it is the tenacity and ferocity of his belief that makes me despair. The inability to reason him out of a rigid belief whether it be football, or science, or politics. And his anxiety when you try because if he thinks something is bad and you don't then maybe you are bad too.

So I yelled at him and dismissed his opinion and now I feel like shit. Because getting mad at him for a manifestation of his disability is no different than getting pissed off at Caitlin because she can't touch her toes without bending her knees.

Food Friday

2009-09-11T08:19:00.002-05:00

Since I have had very little to share from my life lately because of my recent surgery, I have decided to share some on my recipes. It has always been very important to me that my family eats plenty of fresh vegetables and a variety of foods. I am not big believer in "kiddie food" so the kids regularly get exposed to international foods in small portions. Sometimes it is a hit and sometimes not so much but I would rather them try a grilled veggie couscous than be powering down the french fries everyday.

Here are two of my favorite "snacky" foods that are crazy easy to make. My recipes tend to have a cook until done component so I will try to estimate the amounts.

Hummus

1 19 oz can garbanzo beans
reserved bean liquid from can
4 Tablespoons lemon juice
2 Tablespoons Tahini
2 garlic cloves, minced fine
Olive Oil
Cumin

Blend together the beans, 1/2 the reserved liquid, lemon juice, Tahini, and garlic until smooth. Add more reserved liquid if necessary to get a creamy consistency. Serve each bowl of hummus with a swirl of olive oil and a good couple of sprinkles of cumin. Bean water is pretty salty so you should not need to add salt but if you think it does just add a dash of kosher salt.

*You can also add pureed roasted red pepper to the mix - nice flavor addition.

Chickpea Pancakes

chickpea (garbanzo) bean flour
chicken stock
spices
finely cut herbs or veggies

This one is kind of a throw together but a great side for ratatouille, sliced cucumbers and tomatoes, or just by themselves if you pack them with veggies.

I take about a cup of chickpea flour, enough stock to make a pancake consistency, and then I just start throwing shit in. Minced garlic, grated zucchini, cumin, coriander, curry, basil, leftover spinach, garam masala, chili powder. Obviously not all at one time but experiment until you find the combo you like.

Then just cook like you would a regular pancake.

2009-09-10T09:57:00.002-05:00

Grandma bought Caitlin this little netbook this summer that she uses at school instead of pen and paper and she is in love. It gives her homework independence and as a pre-teen she treasures that. This is generally the position that she uses her computer because how effective is gloating that you have your own mini laptop if you aren't simultaneously taking up your brother and sisters spot on the couch?

I haven't written much lately because I haven't really had much to say. My life in some ways is so much calmer because I am physically unable to do so much of what I used to - I have been forced to accept help to get the kids where they need to go, cooking, cleaning, even getting where I need to go. I am slowly recovering from my surgery and gearing up for the next round of tests and surgery. Not that I want to transform into a couch potato but I do think there is a season for everything and this has to be my season of rest.

In some ways I feel like I am missing so much because I am not intimately involved in EVERYTHING but it has also made me realize that it is time to back off in a few areas. My kids are perfectly capable of managing the high points of their schedule and me following behind reminding them to stay "on task" has only contributed to me becoming their conscience. My periods of convalescence after surgeries always contribute to a jump in independence in my children. The hard part is maintaining that independence after I am up and around again because I tend to take responsibilities back.

This time I am hoping to find the balance between nurturing my children and being there for them emotionally while giving them the space they need to develop a certain autonomy and personal mastery over their daily schedule. Sometimes it is a hassle to stand by and give them the room to mess up instead of "helping" them but I want to take the long view. My goal as a parent is to raise children that don't need me and they are never going to get there if I pack every lunch and be on constant "stand-by" to step in and do it for them.

First Day Comparison

2009-08-25T23:13:00.003-05:00

First Day 2008

First Day 2009

I would I could just freeze them right here. They are all at the perfect age and we have way more fun together than was even possible when they were younger.

I'm Not Ready

2009-08-22T22:11:00.002-05:00

The kids start school on Monday. Jeff starts school on Tuesday. My surgery is on Thursday. I am not ready. I always hate the end of summer - I know some Moms can't wait to drop the kids off the first day but I want just a few more weeks. A few more weeks of sleeping late, hitting the pool, playing around with the kids.

And I feel less ready for school than I normally do. Usually by this time I have created my calendars, chore lists, picture schedules and all the other anal retentive things that help me relax and let go. This year not so much and if anything I need to be more organized this year because in 5 days I am basically handing over the responsibility of caring for my kids to other people. Football practices, homework help, cheer practice, 4-H meetings, meal preparation, and a 1000 other things that are required for my house and family to run seamlessly.

My Dad will be taking care of my kids the weekend I am in the hospital while Jeff is at work. And it isn't that I am worried he isn't up to the task - I hate to admit it but he makes a better mom than I do. My last surgery he managed to get all three of my kids up, cooked breakfast, helped everyone get dressed and groomed for school on time for weeks. That may not sound amazing but he managed to do it without raising his voice one time.

Maybe I am dragging my feet on all my usual preparatory tasks because I am trying to hold off my surgery date. I am scared and I want to stomp my feet like a toddler and say "I don't wanna!" My last surgery went so badly it makes me nervous. And I am scared the pain will be like last time - that pain that makes you shake and bite the inside of your cheek because all you want to do is scream but you are afraid if you start you won't be able to stop. So you shake and bite holding on to that sliver of control and wonder WTF someone who has to have 16 surgeries is allergic to morphine and half the other good drugs. And I don't even want to think about how I am going to "work in" dragging around a catheter bag for 4 to 6 weeks or more.

I just want my life to be back to normal - I wish I could either go back to before my last surgery or fast forward three months. Unfortunately neither is an option and Thursday will come ready or not.

Pretty Little Boxes

2009-08-21T00:50:00.002-05:00

I followed a blog rabbit trail tonight and ended up commenting (which I rarely do) and I starting thinking about labels. Mom, Wife, Feminist, Cheerleader, Athlete, Pro-Life, Pro-Choice, Traditional, Democrat, Republican, Christian, Atheist. We attach a meaning to each label. We often pre-judge a person based on the meaning we have attached to their set of labels. We tie a person up in a pretty little box and think that their labels define them.

Every year I travel with a group of women and with these women I have a fun, relaxing, refreshing weekend. I couldn't tell you most of their religious affiliations, political stances, parenting philosophies, or ethical beliefs. This group of women have managed for the most part to put aside the labels, to step out of the pretty little boxes constructed for us or by us and just have fun together. Because the labels really don't matter, the labels aren't what make us who we are.

It can also be easy to label our children. She is the artist, he is the athlete, he is aggressive, she is sensitive. I enjoy watching my children push against the labels. I will admit to surprise when little Hannah wanted to play football because she is just so "girly" but then that was my own prejudice. Who says that you can't be girly and tough, who says you can't paint a tiara on your football helmet, to cheer one day and play football the next? I don't want any of the kids to define themselves or others by a label. I want them to appreciate each person and themselves for their true identity which goes beyond labels and pretty little boxes.

Meeting in the Middle

2009-08-14T21:43:00.004-05:00

Two of my children are grounded right now for crimes that will go unmentioned. As part of their punishment they had to completely go through their rooms and clean them, help the art teacher at school organize her supplies and get her room ready, and tomorrow they will be pulling weeds at Grandma's house. I hate when my kids are grounded because it also means that I am grounded. No pool trips, no park excursions, and I feel obligated to really make the days boring and punishing. Which means I am as ready as they are to be ungrounded.

Supervising the room cleaning today was irritating - I have one child who doesn't want to throw anything away or give anything up and is in a constant quandary as to how to "organize" everything. I end up sneaking into Child Y's room when they are not there and culling out outgrown clothes, unused toys, and just useless crap. Thankfully Child Y doesn't notice.

On the other side of the spectrum is Child X who thinks cleaning their room means that they should throw everything away including unused spiral notebooks, clean clothes, and perfectly good shoes. I have to dumpster dive after Child X is done "cleaning" and empty out half of the Hefty bag and deposit it back into their room.

It seems like so much of parenting is like that - always too far in one direction or the other. Either too lax or too harsh. Hitting the perfect balance of fun and discipline is virtually impossible and I always end up feeling like I am dropping the ball somehow. Am I teaching my kids to take joy from the simple things, to stop and smell the roses, and value the intangible? But wait am I instilling the character traits that are important for future success - self-control, persistence, and diplomacy?

Parenting is a pendulum, a constant infinitesimal series of course corrections. So with one child I am encouraging letting go and with another the benefits of holding on. One child needs to work on anger management and another how to deal with disappointment. One child needs reassurance and another needs space. So often parenting is reduced to the labor intensive jobs - changing diapers, making bottles, toilet training but that is the easy part. The hard part is raising a child that feels secure, capable, intelligent, and worthy, a child that respects themselves and others, and will one day shower you with diamonds for your hard work and sacrifice.

First Tooth!!!

2009-08-07T22:34:00.005-05:00

If you look real close on the bottom row, you can see the little gap from her first lost tooth. She has been wiggling it like a fiend for the past few days and has taken the advice of Caitlin and Devin (wisely) and not let me pull it out. I have pulled several of my older children's teeth because once the teeth get really loose I start getting all nervous nelly and imagine all these insane scenarios where the tooth comes out while they are sleeping and then they choke on it.

Unfortunately both Caitlin and Devin each had one tooth that hadn't quite reached the imminent danger of choking loose tooth level when I pulled it. Needless to say they both bled like a cattle slaughter and since then won't let me near their mouths except to put their rubber bands in. They made a pre-emptive strike with Hannah and warned her about the mommy hysteria and not to let me near her teeth so she wouldn't even let me wiggle it. Instead she chose to stand three steps back (out of tooth pulling range apparently) and show me.

Right now her tooth is in a little bag under her pillow since that makes it so much easier for the tooth fairy. And if my son can't manage to restrain himself and tells her the "truth" about the tooth fairy, then I may have to help him with one of his last baby teeth that seems a little loose. I mean I wouldn't want him to choke or anything.

Life is speeding up

2009-08-05T23:29:00.003-05:00

Summer is almost over and life is on fast forward. School supplies are bought, uniforms purchased and washed, checkups and eye appointments complete. We went today to get Caitlin's feet molded for her new leg braces, Devin has started football practice, and Hannah goes to cheer camp tomorrow and starts football practice next week. We are rushing around trying to get things done and still fit in a little more fun time in the last two weeks before school.

Summer never seems quite long enough. When my children were younger the sheer workload of caring for three young children could be exhausting and I often craved a break. But now all of my children are at that golden age - I don't have to pack a 10 pound bag to leave the house and they aren't old enough to hate me yet. They fight obviously because it is impossible for them to go through an entire day without bitching about some perceived slight or advantage involving their sibling. We travelled to 14 states this summer and they all were still talking to each other at the end of our trip - I consider that a huge success. Most of my road trips as a child, besides having certain Griswald family vacation overtones, usually involved everyone scattering at our destination because we couldn't stand being near anyone in the car for one more second.

I feel this way every August. Wanting just a little more time with the kids doing fun things without the crazy school year schedule.

Suburban Ennui

2009-08-03T20:10:00.005-05:00

I went to New Mexico last week to visit a friend and while I was away I finally identified my dissatisfaction. It goes beyond being upset about my botched surgery, the push and pull of raising three children including two with special needs, and a demanding schedule because of Jeff's work and school. This is the view in New Mexico: And this is the view in the suburban wasteland.

They are both pretty. I don't want to live in New Mexico (it has no beach) but driving through the suburbs I realized how false the environment is. I live in a created place with tree lined esplanades and man made lakes. Where the schools have enormous rotundas that go unused and where there are actually signs that say "posting of signs is prohibited". It is ludicrous.

I don't necessarily want to embrace small town life because I realize the downsides to that - everyone knowing your name and business isn't all it is cracked up to be. But I do want to live somewhere real, somewhere pretty that isn't manufactured. Somewhere parents aren't wringing their hands about their kids 6 year freaking plans and where popping open a beer after lunch in the summer while watching the kids isn't met with raised eyebrows.

Carving out a niche

2009-07-20T23:56:00.005-05:00

I was talking to someone today and they were bemoaning the fact that they had never carved out a niche for themselves that had nothing to do with being a wife or a mom. And it made me consider my own life - is being a wife and mom enough? Will I look back on my life and regret that I didn't develop some skills beyond the hobby level?

And the answer is I don't know. I love writing - I find it cathartic and relaxing to chronicle the funny or sad or intimate moments of my life. Should I write a book, submit articles, etc - does writing not count if it isn't financially viable? Would making something I find so relaxing a "job" steal the joy out of it? Or is it just that I am scared to be rejected, scared to lay my own life on a platter and have someone dismiss it? Or is part of it laziness - follow through takes discipline. A little from column A - a little from Column B and a dash from Column C. But I also love being a wife and a mom.

I don't want to be a women that jumps from unfinished hobby to unfinished hobby (and I see that tendency in myself) but then again I don't want to be someone that only ascribes value to something that earns a paycheck. And then there is the part of me that berates myself for being such a selfish brat because the reality is that I have the luxury of choosing.

My thinking is disordered right now. I feel like I am swirling in circles of should I or shouldn't I. Sometimes it is easier to let the needs of the kids overwhelm my disposable time (with the exception of ritas nights with the girls) because that prevents any hard decisions about my future. Am I going to choose to be a wife and a mom and accept that decision as right for me and my family? Am I bound to achieve more just because I am capable of it? Who knows - I am still turning the options over in my mind.

Helpless vs. Hopeless

2009-07-18T00:09:00.002-05:00

I am having a moment of parental despair today. I went to the meeting at Texas Children's today for Caitlin's neuropsychological testing and it just hit me hard. I hate that there are so many things that she struggles with that I can do nothing to fix. I am a woman of action, a fixer, a practical anal retentive control freak and it makes me feel helpless and impotent that I have to just sit by and let what will be...be. I cannot make my child stronger or happier or her life easier just because of my desperate desire to be able to do so.

It is heartbreaking to watch my child struggle with things that come so easily to others and it is even more difficult to see the effect that it has on her. She is so smart and she knows she is different. She knows that she has to work so much harder than other children and she is sad and angry and puzzled. And what answer can you give? I think that she is beautiful and amazing and compassionate and talented but that isn't enough. She has to believe it...and right now she doesn't.

I may feel helpless but I am not hopeless. I have hope in God, hope in the future and hope in my child. I have seen her overcome obstacles that would make lesser men crumble. As a mother, I want her life to be easy and smooth. But I have seen the hardships and struggles refine her character and I am watching her grow into a powerful, observant and kind woman despite the mean, pettiness of the world around her. Jeff and I have faith that she will triumph over her current struggles but we still wish that she didn't have to fight at all.

I made this!!

2009-07-16T21:40:00.002-05:00

Not the beautiful little girl in the picture (although I had no small part in growing her too) but the blankie she is so happily cuddling. Her first blankie died yesterday - it had been cut and washed so many times that it was literally transparent in many areas. But Hannah still loved it and slept with it every night.

Until the tragedy of light saber wars in the living room. She had her blankie tied around her waist - since any self-respecting Jedi Pirate princess has to have the appropriate accessories. Her brother won the saber fight and in the process tore the last remaining shreds of her blankie. We had dramatic tears, heartfelt apologies, and then I promised to sew her another one.

To say I am not the craftiest person would be an understatement. I am fun and creative but most hobbies have passed me by either because of lack of dexterity or lack of patience. I decided right after I had Hannah in some illustration of post-partum delirium that I was going to learn to sew. And I did - although not very well. I sewed exactly one thing with my newly acquired sewing skills - Hannah's blankie. That blankie has travelled with us, had various and asundry nasty baby body fluids on it, been chewed on extensively, and had magical powers to heal boos boos and dry tears.

So yesterday I drug out my sewing machine which has been living a lonely life on a shelf in my garage for the past 6 years. Then I took it to the sewing machine repair shop because I couldn't get it to work. I cringed in embarassment when the sewing master at McDougall's gently told me that I had it threaded backwards and walked me through the elementary version of "This is your sewing machine". After a few false starts, some akward pinning, and some very uneven stitching blankie 2.0 was born. It will never win an award at the county fair but Hannah loves it and that is really all that matters.

I would love to say that having sewed the blankie, I will develop my crafty abilities but in all reality the sewing machine will probably take up residence once again on my garage shelf until being called into action by my child's tear stained face.

Roadtrip

2009-06-22T10:46:00.002-05:00

The kids and I are in Michigan after our first long term road trip. The kids did great, I didn't need valium and we all actually liked each other once we got to our destination. We stopped at every state line and took pictures - Devin got a kick out of having one foot in one state and one foot in the other. He also thought it was funny when I was in one state and he was in the other - as if he could misbehave with impunity because he was out of my "jurisdiction". As if moms respect any kind of boundary lines.

I will be posting up pictures after I get back. We are all having a great time seeing family. Jeff is lonely at home. He actually sent me a picture on my phone of the bed made because he knew it would make me happy. This is the longest we have been away from each other and the longest the kids have been away from him. I am sure as the days wear on we will miss him more and more.

My son is bonding with his great grandma and stretching her horizons. His mohawk was the first adjustment but the biggest came when he took her to youtube and played her his favorite song - lose yourself by Eminem. I am thinking I just made it back on the black sheep list. Being the good grandchild was fun while it lasted. But as Katharine Hepburn said - If you obey all the rules - you miss all the fun"

Semi Annual Get Rid of Crap Day

2009-06-14T23:03:00.003-05:00

We usually have our Get Rid Of Crap Day on Dec. 1st and May 1st. We go through the whole house and bag up whatever is outgrown, underused, or just plain unwanted and give it to charity. I could have a garage sale like some of my neighbors but that would require storing all the crap in the garage until the first garage sale worthy day and I am afraid that our crap would either grow roots in the garage or migrate back into the house. So the rule is that all of the assembled crap has to be dropped off to Katy Christian Ministries within 24 hours.

We live in a very small house and judicious tossing is critical. It makes our house seem much larger because it isn't so full and it saves time because we aren't sorting through all the crap we don't use just to get to the stuff we do. This year has been a little different though - because of my medical drama I didn't have the energy to tackle the entire house in one day. Plus I was really sick at the beginning of May so we just put it off.

Over the last week the kids and I have taken a room a day so our Get Rid of Crap Day became the Get Rid of Crap Week this year. But now we are done (with the exception of the garage) and I no longer have to shove drawers close or stack and restack the books on the shelves. I am convinced that my bath products, shoes, and DVD's are somehow breeding at night.

I always feel so much better when our bedroom is done. This is the one area in our house that can really collect clutter because it is the most private area in our house. I like to have people over and visit but I do not like other people besides family being in the bedroom Jeff and I share - it is a refuge from the rest of the world. Unfortunately it also becomes the catchall. If I have books that won't fit on the shelf I will put them in our room before quests come over. If I have papers that I need to go through or file I will put them in our room. Add that to the shoe, book , DVD breeding and it can really become a problem.

I have considered making the twice yearly clutter purge a quarterly purge but I just don't know if I am willing to be that organized.

I love you too....

2009-06-13T23:09:00.003-05:00

We went to the pool today with my brother and my niece and nephew. They recently moved back to Houston and it is so nice to be able to get all the kids together. My brother and I grew up around all of our cousins playing at the ranch and there were tons of us (21 at last count). But my kids just have 2 cousins. Jeff's brothers didn't have any children and my brother just has the 2. I want them to have the relationship that we had with our cousins - that strong familial bond tinged with mischievous moments.I just makes me happy to see them together. Reinforcing that bond of Family and having other children in their lives with all the positives of siblings without any of the daily hassle is important. I wish we could get together more often but due to strained family relations that isn't always possible.

I always find it so interesting watching other families fight. They fight, they say exactly what they think, and then everybody gets over it. Or the family members that work together - they adamantly disagree and then just shrug it off. I do not live in one of those families - any statement that could even be construed as derogatory causes an immediate pullback to battle trenches and a dig in for either incoming or outgoing artillery. And I think I finally figured out the problem. Lets use the following completely fake scenario (in our family at least) to illustrate:

When another family says "Hey bro I think you are being a little crazy overprotective worrying about your kid smelling like outside if she walks onto the driveway after her bath. Have you considered professions help? (said in a joking voice) Normal Family Response: "shut up man!" Normal Family Rebuttal "Whatever Nervous Nellie - have you changed your tampon today?" Situation over

Same Fake scenario played out in our family: "Why is it such a big deal if the kids come outside to the driveway after their bath?" Crazy family response: (obviously personally offended that methods are questioned) 10 to 15 minute explanation of why it is absolutely necessary to do it their way with a not so subtle dismissive attitude about the obviously wrong way that you choose to do things. Crazy Family Rebuttal - NONE strained silence after monologue followed by a quick change of subject to avoid yet another family argument that results in someone leaving mad and months of invisibility.

This happens reciprocally with different family members (including myself) playing different parts depending on the day so it is not like there is one person guilty - for some reason it is just our way. And that doesn't even cover the humongous elephants in the room that we manage to sidestep or maneuver around. Pretending that I don't even have a sister in law has become the standard operating procedure - which is fine with me but it is just odd. Do other families do this - just pretend someone doesn't exist to avoid overt family tension?

*rambling* Back to topic. The nice thing about today was that for the first time I told my nephew how much I loved him and he leaned into me and rested his cheek on my cheek and said "I love you too" And that is why I keep dodging elephants and tense silences and pretense - because I do love my brother and I do love my niece and nephew and I love watching them grow and mature and bloom the same way I enjoy watching my own children.

And hope springs eternal that one day things will be different - uncomplicated, normal family stuff without the elephants in the room.

Not enough hours in the day

2009-06-13T01:22:00.005-05:00

I am a mean mother that forces my children to read every day - even in the summer. Devin is particularly bothered by the fact that he must read fiction for his 30 minutes a day. Nonfiction (which is his preference) is on his own time. Reading and chore time comes before the fun stuff and if we have a busy day planned I am forced to multitask the schedule.

Reading and allergy shots probably puts me in the mean mommy category for the day but I am sure the kids will survive. As the kids get older I have raised my expectations in many areas and that has helped lessen the load on me but it still seems like there is not enough time in the day to get everything done. Which may explain why I am pondering this so late at night. I tend to be the most productive after the kids go to bed because I can just get things done without have to answer endless questions, hear new football stats from Devin, or watch any one of them display a new skill. And sometimes when I am finished doing whatever, I stay up just a little later to unwind and enjoy the silence.

Don't misunderstand - I use my kids as unpaid slave labor and they help a lot around the house so I am not some martyred maternal cinderella. Today Devin cleaned up the back yard, vacuumed the couches, and scrubbed one of the bathrooms. Caitlin finished cleaning up her room, went through all her clothes and gave Hannah everything that didn't fit, she also wiped down all the appliances and dusted. Hannah also went through her clothes and bagged up what didn't fit for charity, cleaned under her bed (a scary proposition), and cleaned all the barstools. And I was doing the endless laundry and scrubbing floors. But we were listening to music and all working together. And when we were done we hit the pool for a couple of hours with some friends.

One of the hardest initial adjustments for me staying home was that the work is truly never done. I am never finished with the laundry, or done cooking meals, or done cleaning house and sometimes I stay up too late - not because I have to but because I want to just finish something before everyone wakes up tomorrow and messes it up.

Judgement of Mothers

2009-06-11T23:54:00.002-05:00

I have been watching the Jon and Kate Gosselin drama unfold for the last couple of weeks. I never really watched the show - I have always thought that parents that showcase their children on a reality show have a screw loose but to each his own. For the most part, I think people have been too hard on this family - if I had 8 kids under 8 I would probably come off like a psychotic bitch too. I have three and some mornings my kids are just not cooperating with the master schedule and I get a little twitchy.

Unfortunately mothers judging mothers has become an epidemic. Instead of being a sorority of women pulling for each other, supporting each other, offering advice and a shoulder to cry on - motherhood has become a competition. Why - is there some award ceremony when our kids grow up that I don't know about. Will it be like the end of year assembly when some administrator catalogues my sleepless nights, craft projects, budget juggling, and PTA meetings all in the name of motherhood? One of the drawbacks of the suburban wasteland is that other mothers treat life as a zero sum game - if my kid does well then it takes something away from little Johnny and vice versa.

Life is not a zero sum game, there is no award ceremony at the end of parenting and for that matter there is no end to parenting. We all make mistakes as parents yet most of us have at one time or another have looked at another mother and thought with derision, "I would NEVER do that". But the sad fact is we have and we will again - we just don't want to admit it. Being a good mother is important to me but the expectation of perfection is a lot of pressure.

I am a damn good mother but I am not perfect. I get mad and fuss at my kids, I overreact sometimes, I have given then popcorn and ice cream for dinner more than once when daddy isn't home, some days I count the minutes until bedtime, and I think average performance is just fine whether it be grades, sports, or housekeeping. I let them listen to music that is cringeworthy and I drop f-bombs like they are going out of style. My husband and I have had arguments within earshot of our kids that set your hair on fire. We are not on the Brady Bunch or Ozzie and Harriett. We are real people living real lives - we love our children to distraction, we kiss boo boos, we dry tears, we listen when something goes wrong at school or with a friend, we champion their causes and advocate for their needs when necessary, we are grateful for every breath they take. And none of that will be diminished if we don't get the parenting trophy.

What a difference a summer makes

2009-06-10T17:58:00.006-05:00

So all of a sudden I have become a little peripheral this summer. I am still necessary to take the kids to the pool but I am not the prime pool toy anymore. While in some ways I enjoy this - this is the first summer that my kids are proficient enough swimmers that I can read a book by the edge of the pool. I look at my son and think - holy crap who is this kid? What happened to my little boy who didn't want to be more than 6 inches from me in the pool......

He is playing with the big boys now. And only circling mommy every once in a while on his way to another game or the diving board or food. It is hard to see my kids grow up, to see them become more self-sufficient, to need and want me less. But that is the point isn't it? Raising a child is such an awesome responsibility - I am trying to make it possible that the people I love most in the world will be perfectly capable without me.

So far there are only glimmers - dressing and bathing proficiency, simple meals and snacks, a persistent attitude. But with each year they lean on me less and less and discover themselves more. Develop and hone the qualities that will enable them to thrive without me.

Persistence being one of those qualities. Little Hannah used to shy from anything that was hard - much preferring to be treated like the princess she is and have someone else do it. But today she decided she was going to do a front flip off the diving board. She must have gone off that board over 50 times and by the end her little back was beet red because the closer she got to the full flip the more it hurt when she flopped. It is scary to see my children expanding their horizons, ranging further afield from the safety of the mommy circle but it is also exciting to see the qualities Jeff and I have been nurturing for so long starting to bloom.

Pool Dates

2009-06-07T11:42:00.011-05:00

I love my camera - it has taken months to actually get the cojones to use the underwater feature on it. But I love this picture so much. The girls are true sisters - they love each other, aren't entirely sure they want to give up sharing a room when we get a bigger house, and they fight like feral cats. I love to capture those infrequent moments when one of them isn't scowling at the other.

We brought Devin's friend to the pool with us. We generally have a spare pretty much every time we go anywhere in the summer. We have had three playdates already and another one tomorrow. My house has become a revolving door for the neighborhood kids and I am loving it. I wish I wasn't so tired and I struggle with being depressed because of my medical stuff but I am loving spending more time with the kids. I miss them when they are at school all day.

It is exciting to see Devin's friendship develop with this little boy. They are both very smart and tend to be a little mischievous (including both "falling" in the lake yesterday and getting covered with lake slime - yuck) but it is unusual for Devin to be able to look straight into someones eyes from such a close distance. Devin will usually look away once he gets within two feet of someone because the sustained eye contact really makes him anxious. One of those little quirks of autism that I have yet to really understand.

Devin is at my mom's house right now being spoiled shamelessly and I miss him. I realized when I carried in the groceries yesterday and put them away how often he is just there to help without being asked. Sometimes it is easy to take him for granted - to focus on the negative instead of celebrating the positive. Yes he can talk alot and he wakes up at the buttcrack of dawn every day but he is just such a charming, sweet, helpful child.

No is a complete sentence

2009-06-05T22:44:00.002-05:00

I don't like conflict. I hate arguing with someone I love. I do enjoy healthy debate about a variety of topics but I can be a pushover when it comes to day to day issues that affect my life. I can say no to the lady from school asking me to head up any number of committees and I can say no to the person from church who wants to be involved in some "vitally important" something that I would rather stick a fork in my eye than participate in. But my mom, my husband, my dad, my family in general - I suck at saying no.

I have set up an expectation that I will say yes because the conflict or hassle in saying no is just too much to deal with. So I end up running myself ragged or bitter because I have agreed to do something or be somewhere that I really do not want to do or be. And now when I do try to say no it is met with immediate resistance as if I am being selfish because I want to dictate my own schedule. Somehow my own preferences have become optional, have been sacrificed on the altar of "keeping the peace", not "causing a hassle", and "being considerate".

I want to strike a balance between queen bitch and a pushover. But everyone has become so accustomed to me just carrying the load that when I deny someone anything then I am treated like a queen bitch. Everyone looks to me to take care of everything and for the most part that is fine because I do love my family. I adore my family actually and most of the time I do what I do because I love them so much.

But sometimes I need help too - my health has not been very good since my last surgery. I am really struggling - physically, emotionally, spiritually. I am tired and I need my no to be no without a lot of cajoling and guilt and irritation. For awhile everyone is going to have to look to themselves because I have to use my limited energy to take care of myself.

It builds character.

Signs of Summer

2009-06-04T18:27:00.003-05:00

Today was the last day of school so it is now officially summer!!

Devin got his annual mohawk and Caitlin her short summer do.

Pool toys, bathing suits, and beach towels have taken over our house.

And I am anal retentively crafting our summer list - where to go and what to do. Including my mean mommy chore list for each of the kids.

I love summer - I am one of the few people who don't complain about the heat and humidity. The pool, the beach, sidewalk chalk, sprinklers, reading a great book in a lounge chair or even better a hammock - what is better than that?

I wish it could be summer all year but then my children would be illiterate.

Wordless Wednesday

2009-06-03T07:27:00.003-05:00

Proud Mama Bear

2009-05-30T15:51:00.015-05:00

Today was my son's last game. After the game the players all got their certificate and trophies. I love, love, love his coach. He has always focused on the positives, emphasized the love of the game, and really tried to focus on character development along with football skills development. He said something nice about each child, their place on the team, etc. He called Devin up at the end and said this..........(he isn't talking for the first 20 seconds or so because he got a little emotional)

I mean, I know my son is awesome but it is nice when other people agree.

Notice the red eyes on his coach and Devin's slight look of anxious confusion. He wasn't sure if his coach crying was good or bad.

Life at the Zoo

2009-05-28T20:31:00.009-05:00

Most days my life feels like a zoo. Trying to balance my kids needs, my husband, my parents, and get everything else done can be a juggling act in the middle of chaos. I never have quite enough time to give to everyone who wants it and I am unable to keep everyone happy all at the same time - it seems like someone is alternately frustrated or pissed off with me. But today we went to the real zoo on Caitlin's field trip. Jeff was able to go too. I think I got more excited about some of the exhibits than the kids did.

We got special clearance from the zoo for Caitlin to use her four wheel scooter. I didn't realize that scooters are not allowed inside the zoo. They offered us a wheelchair but I explained that she was at the zoo with her classmates and the scooter had a bigger "cool factor" than being pushed around in a chair. And it made all the difference - normally after a day at the zoo Caitlin is a dead man walking. Plus without the scooter she would not have been able to keep up with her group and it would have been just like going to the zoo with Mommy and Daddy. The scooter kept her from getting too tired because it was easier and she was able to keep up with her classmates. I was so thankful the zoo said yes.

That is a big butt

Prairie dog caves

Me and Caitlin in the Red Panda exhibit

Jeff and Caitlin at the end of the field trip - still enough energy to smile halfway.

But of course the day wasn't over. After the zoo, we rushed to the store to get Jeff's present before we had to pick up the kids (since his birthday is Saturday and he works the next two days), rushed to pick up Devin and Caitlin to go to the allergist and get our first allergy shots while Hannah was at cheerleading practice. Grabbed her after the doctor to rush to have dinner with my Dad. Finally get home, sit down, have an immediate emotional blowout on the phone. Two hours later life has returned to normal, kids are in bed, and I am relaxing.

Zoo visiting hours are over and the game warden is finished for the day.

Praying for Enemies

2009-05-26T00:05:00.002-05:00

I am fortunate to have very few enemies. Now I don't think I am so irresistible and wonderful that everyone likes me - some people can take me or leave me. But that is just ambivalence not hatred. And I like most everyone with very few exceptions so I will admit to some amount of surprise when I realize that someone truly doesn't like me. I feel tempted to sputter, "But, but I like you.....".

Except for one person - I couldn't stand her, I loathed her, I absolutely detested her. And for a long time I let that hatred seethe inside of me like a time release poison. She hates me so the feeling is mutual but she also hates my children which is beyond my comprehension. Hate me fine - but my kids? Who in the world can't acknowledge how amazing, kind, and beautiful all of my children are....well she can't apparently but it is hard for me to wrap my mind around.

It was and is very difficult for my children to understand - how someone who supposedly should love them could be so mean to them. I tried to explain the best I could but the best advice I could give my children was to pray for her and they have for the last two years. Caitlin prays every week that God will touch her life, she forgives her and loves her even though that love is only returned with vitriolic hatred. Despite the fact that the kids have not seen her for two years (by Jeff and I's choice), this past Sunday Caitlin dropped a prayer into the box for her to have God's guidance and encouragement.

I wish I was as loving and caring as my daughter. When I first told the kids that the best thing we could do was to pray for her, I didn't want to pray for her. I didn't want to try and understand her, I didn't even want to think of her much less speak her name in my mind. My first prayers were pathetic, pale things. Please God help her stop being such an ass, Please God inspire her to move to Australia by herself, Please God make her sane. It took me a while to realize that I was missing the boat.While I still can't profess the level of childlike love and faith that Caitlin does, I now pray for God to help me be compassionate to her in my thoughts and speech. I pray that I can let go of the anger I hold towards her because of her actions in the past. And it took a while but it did help and I do feel compassion towards her now - I would not want her life. And I am much happier since I have let go of my hatred of her and am no longer allowing it to poison my life.

Helicopter Parenting

2009-05-22T14:30:00.004-05:00

So I spent entirely too much time on the phone with my Mom today. I would have loved to have lunch with her but I have put myself on Mom Quarantine just in case I am still carrying any leftover germs from the Pukefest 2009. We talked about alot of things (as usual) but one of our main themes was helicopter parenting.

Helicopter parenting (or hover parenting) is a disease in the suburbs. Parents now have the ability to check their kids grades on every assignment every day on a website. While I don't necessary have a problem with the mechanics of this, the application seems fraught with the potential for parental ridiculousness. Should the average 17 year old really have his Mommy checking every day to see if he turned in his homework? I don't think so but apparently I am in the minority.

I realize that there are extenuating circumstances (kids recovering from drug addiction or massive truancy problems) have proven that they can not yet be responsible for their own affairs. These kids parents probably need to be a little more hypervigilant but how can we expect our kids to act responsibly and take personal responsibility for their own actions if we never give them the opportunity to exhibit it.

My friend works in a high school and EVERY single day parents are bringing lunches, textbooks, homework assignments, and glasses. My kids are in kindergarten, 3rd grade, and 4th grade and if they forget any of the above then life sucks for them because I will not bring it to them. Give me horrible mother of the year but each of my kids forgot their lunch exactly ONCE! I would be willing to bet that not a lot of my time will be taken up when they are in high school playing delivery service.

This is one of the many reasons I feel so out of step in the suburban wasteland. Sometimes I am out to lunch with my friends who have jr. high and high school kids and I am absolutely flabbergasted. I love my kids, I adore my kids, I want nothing more than thehappiness of my kids - I do not want to be that involved in their daily lives and daily decision making when their feet are bigger than mine and I can no longer be in the bathroom with them.

Lysol Lockdown

2009-05-18T19:07:00.003-05:00

Thankfully this use for Lysol has fallen out of favor - I pulled this from an 1934 ad. I was just looking for a graphic of a can of Lysol and ran across this - WTF? Lysol up the hooch - what rocket scientist really thought that was a good idea?

I wouldn't let lysol anywhere near my dainty parts but I do use it quite frequently when the kids are sick. Caitlin had a terrible headache on Saturday and vomited soon after. She then slep about six hours so I assumed it was her normal migraine, vomit, sleep cycle. Apparently not.

Last night I woke up to the sound of heaving in the hallway followed by the unmistakable splat that tells any mother that a vomiting sleepy child is headed her way. Little Hannah managed to puke 8 times in the hallway and got 3 good heaves in right next to my side of the bed before I managed to steer her to the bathroom. She slept the rest of the night next to me clutching her puke bucket and laying on several towels. The towels being my tummy bug solution - your child can only puke so many times before you run out of sheets but you can lay down a layer of 8 to 10 towels and just remove a layer after each vomiting wave.

I kept all of my kids home from school today. Caitlin still wasn't eating, Hannah was actively vomiting, and Devin seemed fine but his color was just a little off so in for a penny in for a pound we all stayed home. Devin lasted until 2:30 pm when a series of odd sounding grunts was the only warning before a truly shocking amount of vomit hit my living room floor, then my hallway floor, and then my bathroom floor. This is exactly the third time in his entire life that he has vomited so in typical man fashion he is laying on the couch looking very pathetic.

The house - including all of the floors - have been disinfected. I have wiped down the fixtures, doorknobs, telephone, and light switches. I am keeping the house on lysol lockdown until this bug runs it course. And praying by all that is holy that my husband doesn't get this because three puking kids is way easier than one puking Jeff.

Football in Katy

2009-05-16T20:16:00.006-05:00

So people in Katy are a little crazy about football as in some parents live, breathe, and eat football. They start their kids in pee-wee at 4 yrs old! Needless to say I do not fit the crazy, sports mom mold - I am just happy that my kids are alive - playing sports is a bonus. Apparently other parents do not take the laissez-faire attitude that I do since every week I see parents jumping up and down, running down the field, and even the occasional parent bitching about the refs, the players, etc. And Devin is playing with a spring league through a church not the super crazy intense KYF league which I have heard can be even worse.

But is has been fun to watch Devin learn the game, grow closer to his little school friend, and spend time with his Daddy practicing. Plus he looks so damn cute in his uniform. We registered today for fall football because in bizarro minivan land you actually register for fall sports in May and elementary school boys start practicing in August (in Texas!) for the fall games.

This morning at Devin's game Hannah tells me that she wants to play flag football in the fall. Since she has now mentioned this several times, I told her that I would talk to Daddy and we would decide. When we were registering Devin she reiterated her desire to play football in the fall. I called Jeff, he gave his OK, and so my little princess is going to play flag football. It was a measure of how far we have come that the coaches thought it was great that she wanted to play, Devin thought it was great that she was going to play, and the other little boys registering didn't seem to see anything odd about a girl wanting to play either. So she will be a cheerleader AND a football player.

Fine Arts Night

2009-05-14T21:23:00.004-05:00

So one of the things I love about my kids little school is that they have the opportunity to participate in fine arts. My little girls take dance at school and tonight was their recital. Caitlin did a hip-hop dance and Hannah did a ballet number. Their costumes suited their personalities perfectly. The dancing part was done pretty quickly but we had to stay until the bitter end because my little on is also in the choir.

Caitlin as a tomboy hip hop girl

Hannah as a butterfly princess

We sit there in our plastic chairs and clap politely for everyone, make sure to tell the parents around us how well their child performed even if we don't have the foggiest who their child is. The tipoff always comes when the person next to you drags out the paparazzi sized camera. The reality is that none of us (well maybe just me) really give a shit about anyone elses kids. I am there to see my own kids (who naturally are super awesomely naturally talented) and everyone elses kids are just window dressing. Same way when I watch my son play football - he may as well be on the field by himself because he is the only one I am watching.

I attribute the vague disinterest I have in other people's children to everyone but maybe it is just me. Maybe I am the only one pasting a smile on my face when some passing mommy acquaintance stops me in the hall to gush about little Johnny's achieving his next belt level. Don't get me wrong - I care about my friends kids. I want to know how Elena is doing in dance and whether Ian is going to play ball next fall. I care about Olivia's hair and Kelseys cold. But the random PTA moms that accost me in the hallway to brag about their kids, or nudge me somewhat hostilely when little Suzy gets yet another accolade for something that is marginally important at best (while acknowledging that I would think it was important if it was my kid) - yea I am not really interested.

Am I the only one faking or are other people pasting on the same smile? I have to own up to my hypocrisy - I have a blog for goodness sake. A blog based on the fact that for some unknown reason people find my life and my kids interesting enough to read about. Yet I enter a kewpie doll head-nodding zone when someone I know only marginally starts telling me intimate details of their kids lives......

The Edge of the Umbrella

2009-05-10T20:26:00.002-05:00

When Caitlin was first diagnosed with cerebral palsy her neurologist described disability as a big umbrella. Some children were holding the handle of the umbrella and cerebral palsy colored every part of their lives and some children were standing at the very edge of the umbrella just this side of the rain. Caitlin is fortunate to deal with falling drops of normal every day - homework, sibling rivalry, cheerleading, art class, friend squabbles. I very rarely really think about the fact that she has a disability - she is just Caitlin. Yes, if I really pay attention then I notice that she speaks differently, that sometimes her words are halting or unclear. If I really look hard I can see her limping gait that almost looks like one of her feet is just a little bit asleep. But sometimes, out of the blue, I am reminded of why we have so many doctors appointments for Caitlin.

Tonight I had to bring Caitlin for her sleep study at Texas Childrens. We packed up pajamas, blankie, lisa, froggie, and one of my t-shirts to put over the pillow because apparently the child can't sleep unless the bed is suitably crowded. We arrived (running a few minutes late - big surprise there), threw the keys at the valet, and hoofed an extraordinarily long way to the sleep lab only to be told that the wonderful woman that called me on Friday to not so gently remind me to be at the lab 30 minutes early should have told me that my appointment was being rescheduled until after Caitlin's neurodevelopmental testing at the request of her doctor. So sorry for the inconvenience and no we can't validate your parking because the woman with the tickets (the same not so gentle reminderer) has them locked in her desk drawer. Caitlin started to cry - not because she would have to come back for her study - but because the idea of walking back to the valet was too much. For the first time I had to get my daughter a wheelchair.

Caitlin has grown quite bit in the last 18 months and her muscles are having a rough time accommodating the growth. She starts another 3 month round of physical therapy to try and stretch out her hamstrings (and postpone the hamstring surgery) and I hope that will help. In 18 months she has gone from a child that could run several miles almost flawlessly to a child that cries at the thought of walking less than 1/4 mile back to the valet. I wish I could say that I just took her needing a wheelchair in stride but I would be lying. I don't even know how to express my feelings about it which is kind of rare for me. I am blessed to be the mom of one child splashing out in the puddles getting soaked with rain and two children standing right at the edge of that big umbrella. It kind of scares me to think that she might have moved more toward the center.

School Cheerleading Tryouts

2009-05-08T19:19:00.008-05:00

Before the tryouts

When Stage Fright attacks (you can even see the little tear about to fall)

Brother and sissie wanted to watch

After

Was at the school forever today - between teacher appreciation luncheon, Devin's disciplinary hearing, and cheerleader tryouts I thought I would never get home. But the day is done - Devin survived his hearing and is properly chastined (but I must admit Mommy had a little bit of a rambling rant with the hearing board after he left the room) and Hannah is no longer making herself sob nervous tears because of tryouts.

Is it summer yet?

Crime and Punishment

2009-05-08T08:44:00.003-05:00

See this sweet little boy carrying that kitty? We have a discipline hearing at 4:15 for him at the school to discuss his crimes. They are terrible, awful, no good crimes - this sweet, little nine year old boy has obviously taken a very wrong turn sometime recently and been lost to the shady underworld. What has he done you ask? He was talking loudly at lunch time two weeks ago and kept horsing around after the lunch monitor asked him (and his partners in crime) to stop. And yesterday he was being a clown in his drama class and him and his friends kept hamming it up and laughing when his teacher asked them to stop. I can't imagine that he isn't being expelled considering the severity of his fall from grace!

Uggghhh! I understand that it is important for my child (any child) to respect authority and follow directions. And I am certainly not giving him a pass for his bad behavior but a discpline hearing.....really? Not to mention the two days of in school suspension for horsing around at lunch....give me a break. All four of those boys are good kids but school is out in three weeks and they are done. Plus I never made one single six weeks in school without an N in conduct so excuse me for thinking that horsing around at lunch is registering pretty low on the Richter scale.

It is a delicate balance - I want my kids to behave, listen, and be respectful to adults but I am not raising stepford children nor do I want to. I expect them to have an opinion, I expect them to have bad days, I expect them to get tired of school and barely be able to hang in there till the end. This is my finals weeks and I am about ready to run screaming from the house from stress - my behavior at home has been worthy of a discipline hearing. Telling your husband to go f**k himself because he asks if you want something to drink while you are trying to study is not rational behavior.

I think discipline has to be balanced with mercy. Make the boys run laps at recess to wear out their wiggles. Have them sweep up the cafeteria. But in school suspension and a discipline hearing - completely over the top. I am struggling with this side of parenting. I want my children to learn respect for proper authority so I am supportive of their school and their teachers to them but on the inside I am thinking "You have got to be kidding!". I haven't figured out how to tell the school that I think they are being completely draconian without undermining the values I want to instill in my children.

ManBirdPig Flu

2009-05-04T19:21:00.003-05:00

So the last week has been the week of swine flu in the news. While Jeff and I have been getting ready for finals the news wires have been burning up about the new flu strain rising to global pandemic levels. Since modern people have the attention span of a gnat, 5 days is pretty much the maximum amount of time that people can remain on "high alert" so reporting has calmed down and people are shrugging their shoulder and thinking a crisis is averted.

Being a biology major and somewhat of a disaster preparedness nut, I am not quite willing to shrug my shoulders. I recently read a book called the Great Influenza that covered the Spanish Flu of 1918. There were several things that caught my attention - the mild late spring first wave of a novel (new) virus, the gradual burnout over the summer, the lethal resurgence during a second wave which occurred during the typical flu season. Is this going to happen this year? Who knows - not even the virologists at the CDC and the WHO have any idea.

So what is a mother to do? You can't stop living your life and barricade yourself in the house. Becoming a recluse is not the answer. But I am astonished by the lack of preparation by most people. Even the government website http://www.pandemicflu.gov/ recommends that families have a solid 2 weeks of food and water for their entire family. But most people can't even sustain themselves for the 3 days after a hurricane until FEMA services kick in.

As mothers we make sure that our kids wear seatbelts, eat healthy food, and learn healthy habits like hand washing. We shield them from dangerous situations by requiring helmets and adult supervision. I think that we also need to consider how we would provide for our families in any kind of disaster - earthquake, flood, hurricane, pandemic. What is the harm in being prepared? The worst (best) that will happen is that you will never need the supplies. But what if you do - are you ready?

The Great Motherhood Lie

2009-04-24T09:19:00.002-05:00

Life will be less hectic when.......the baby starts sleeping through the night, all the kids are out of diapers, all the kids are in school. I believed these lies and always wondered why my life didn't seem less busy - sure my life was different as each milestone was reached and passed but no less hectic. What was I doing wrong?

The only thing I was doing wrong was buying into the lie that parenthood somehow gets less "busy" as time goes on. Why is this a lie? Just because I can now go to the bathroom in the middle of the day without tiny toddler fingers peeking underneath the door doesn't mean I am less busy. It just means I can now go to the bathroom by myself. Just because my children in a pinch can now make their own breakfast does not mean I am less busy. It just means that I am no longer the cook on call for every meal of the day. But the reality that no one talks about is that as one job is let go another comes in to fill its place.

Once a mom is past sleepless nights, bottles, and diapers she moves straight into the toddler mania of flushed hot wheels cars, daily spilt milk, and green bean encrusted hair. From there harried moms move onto the preschool era of crocodile tears, constant surveillance, and "I do mysef" tantrums while dreaming about what life will be like once all the kids are in school. Only to realize that once kids are in school then the days are filled with PTA, making posters for game day, buying sports equipment, dashes to the grocery store before picking up the children for the afternoon insanity of art lessons, football practice, cheerleading, etc. etc. etc. And lets not forget slogging through homework and last minute cupcakes for teacher treat days.

The truth is you never get less busy and a mom never stops being a Mom. I would be willing to bet that my mom at this moment right now is wondering if I have taken my medicine today and whether I have heard back from the specialist for my appt and I am in my 30's. Yes as the kids get older a mom has more time to herself - I can now go to the bathroom by myself, take a shower without having a conversation with a child half my height, lay in bed until 9 am on the weekends and wake up to dressed, fed children. I can even go read a book in my room without having to worry about the house being reduced to a pile of rubble while I am out of the room. But the kids each have their own schedule which multiplies the older they get.

And the men wonder why Friday is Mom's Night Out AKA Margarita Night. We need the break - in the space of a week most of us have cooked 20 or more meals, washed load after load of laundry, planned meals, chauffeured children to at least 12 different locations, plus working and college classes, plus trying to pretend we understand (or have any interest) when our husbands are describing what they did that day at work.

Shield-at-Arms

2009-04-22T22:33:00.002-05:00

Caitlin had to create a shield using heraldic colors and symbols that represented her. She has worked so hard on this project and she loves art so much. This is the explanation of the colors and symbols that Caitlin chose.

I chose green and gold for my shield. Gold means generous and I am generous with my time to help people and animals. The other color I chose is green and it means hope and loyalty in love. I am hopeful that people and animals that are sick will get better. I am also very loyal to my family and friends. I used a cross with a raguly line that looks like a castle roof because it means difficulties overcome. The cross means protection. The cross is important to me because it represents God and that God protects me. The Phoenix is a symbol of resurrection and is one of my favorite symbols on my shield. When I was born, I was very small and 2 weeks after I was born my heart stopped. The doctors had to perform CPR on me with two fingers to bring me back to life. I survived the hard times of when I was little. Since I survived, I chose the horseshoe because I have good luck. The anchor reminds me to continue to have hope and stay loyal to my faith in God. The Paschal lamb is my other favorite symbol on my shield. I love lambs and the Paschal lamb means faith, innocence, and gentleness. I am very gentle with people and animals. My shield represents me.

I love that girl so much I just can't stand it.

Brotherly Love

2009-03-21T01:12:00.002-05:00

Have been a blog slacker lately. Our life is crazy busy right now and I am in a reflective period in my life. Been thinking about a lot of things but sometimes you just have to pull the curtain of privacy on your life and figure things out. There are certain things in my life that are just mine and I want to hold on to them, chew on them, and make my decisions instead of blabbing about every moment or thought on my blog.

Consider me on hiatus for a little while.....

Mommy Meltdown

2009-03-08T22:22:00.002-05:00

I am sure I am not the only parent who has sat her children down at the kitchen table and proceeded to lecture them about how selfish they act sometimes. Caitlin and Devin both acolyted this morning at church and one of my friends said she wanted to take a picture because they both looked so angelic sitting in the pew in their robes, reading their bibles and waiting for the service to start. Cut to a little over an hour later and they are beating the crap out of each other with baloons (Thanks so much Marla) on the way home from church.

I know I have great kids and I adore them but sometimes they just piss me off. We have the M is for Mother not Maid lecture at least once every two months. Which is exactly how long it takes the girls room to descend into utter stuffed animal chaos. My son is rather anal retentive (surprise) so his room is pretty organized but he spreads stuff outside of his room - shoes, socks, towels, playing cards (WTF?) so that his room stays absolutely spotless. The only thing guaranteed to make my head spin around and pea soup shoot out of my mouth is clean laundry. Now I love the sight and most definitely the smell of clean laundry - it is a sign that all is right in the world. But discovering clean, FOLDED laundry in the dirty clothes hamper is enough to bring on a Mommy meltdown.

So today, despite the fact that little Hannah is sick, we had the coming to Jesus meeting at the dining room table with the reiteration of 3 main points:

1.) Mommy can't do everything with only 24 hours in a day and she needs help from the rest of the family

2.) Mommy cleans up messes every day that she didn't make, washes clothes that she didn't wear, and cooks meals that she doesn't eat so think twice before telling her that you didn't make the mess and shouldn't have to clean it.

3.) Mommy will not wash clothes for people who are incapable of putting away clean laundry. If you want to continue to be downy fresh then you can complete the last step of putting clean, folded laundry into drawers and closets.

I am going to give them a day off before I launch into the repeat of the "Mommy is not a short order cook" discussion on Tuesday.

Life in the Suburban Wasteland

2009-03-06T21:47:00.002-06:00

Remember when we grew up and everyone got home from school, threw their backpack on the floor, had a snack, put playclothes on (ala Mr. Rogers) and then disappeared into the bowels of the neighborhood until your mom called you in for dinner? That innocent, inexpensive mode of life does not exist in the suburban wasteland.

It is an almost constant social pressure to have your child and your schedule completely overloaded. My husband and I for the most part manage to resist the stepford family dynamic if only to maintain our sanity. When both parents go to school full-time and one parent works full time and one part time it doesn't leave much time for extracurricular madness. We allow each of the kids one activity outside of school at a time - we would love to allow them two, one athletic and one fine art related but we live in the real world and not fantasy land. So each fall and spring they pick their activity - last fall we had soccer for the girls and football for Devin. In the past we have done art classes, choir, guitar lessons, etc. We have three kids so even with only one activity each it still takes up a lot of time.

Devin has pretty much settled into football - he asked me today while we were spending an inordinate amount of money buying his helmet and pads (my big boy is moving up to tackle!) if I thought he could ever play pro football. He carries his football around the house and half the time brings it to the dinner table. He was so excited about his cup - he walked around the house with his jock strap and cup like a true macho man while I tried not to pee my pants laughing. Caitlin has always loved art and I think she is settling in that area too. It is one constant for her - whenever she has a growth spurt sports are out because her legs hurt too much but art isn't dependent on how tight her muscles are. Hannah has decided to try out gymnastics since she wants to be cheerleader (mostly because she wants the outfit and pom poms).

While I enjoy watching the kids do their activities and I do think there is value especially for Caitlin because art provides an outlet for her - I feel nostalgic for the day when it wasn't "required" to have your kids in activities to be a good parent. Nobody considered you a slacker mom because you weren't playing chauffeur 3 to 5 days a week.

Nine Years Ago today.....

2009-03-03T22:34:00.003-06:00

My son was born. My husband had front row tickets to see the Steve Miller band that night so naturally Devin made his appearance which I still hear about relatively frequently. My doctor was also being presented an award that night so she arrived at the hospital with heels, pearls, and a fancy dress. My timing could have been better.

My poor son suffers from middle child syndrome. He never gets to do anything first and he never gets to be last at anything. But he is my ONLY son. When my daughters roll their eyes and slam their doors, complain to their friends about how mean I am, complain to grandma about how I just don't understand - my son is still my son. He is so honest and refreshing, so forgiving and charming.

I didn't get to see Caitlin in the delivery room since she had to be whisked off so fast to be resuscitated but they put Devin in an isolette and let me look at him. I remember how excited I was that he had fat cheeks - he weighed four pounds like a real baby! Now he can't even tuck his head under my armpit because he is getting so tall. Being a parent is such a double-edged sword, I love watching my son mature and develop into a responsible, caring, studious young man but I miss the little fat-cheeked baby, the constantly moving toddler, the analytical pre-schooler.

I treasure the moments I have with my son because they seem to be passing faster and faster. One day I won't be the most important woman in his life - I will be pushed to the side by his wife and then probably again once he has his own daughters. Hopefully I can accept this with grace as the natural way of things. I don't want to go all stalker like the "Love you Forever" book. But for now I am enjoying the pedestal I exist on, the fact that he wants to marry a woman just like me, that he misses me when he goes to school. I wish it could last forever.

Stop Tape......Rewind the Day

2009-03-02T19:45:00.002-06:00

This morning I was woken up at 3:30 am by my husband telling me that the neighbor's dog had dug under our fence again and had overturned our garbage bin and proceeded to rip open the bags and spread trash from one end of our yard to the other. Why my husband felt it was absolutely critical to wake me up to tell me this is for another blog and another day. Suffice it to say that if Princess makes another nocturnal visit to our yard he will keep it to himself until morning time.

So morning time comes - I attempt to get Princess to crawl back through the hole she was dug and she won't do it. Me and my kids drag her over to her house only to find that no one is home. She then pulls out of her collar and a three stooges type chase scene ensues as I am thoroughly unable to just let this dog loose in the neighborhood for fear she will get lost or hit. We contain Princess, get her back in our yard (since the neighbors gate is locked), and get ready to leave for school.

I am pulling out of my driveway and realize that something seems unbalanced. I stop the car, get out, and notice my front tire is flat. After unleashing a torrent of cursing worthy of a sailor, I go next door and ask(beg) my neighbor to bring the kids to school. I won't even go into the hassle of getting the tire replaced.

Upon returning home I flush one of the toilets that apparently one of my children has forgotten and it promptly overflows and spews water all over my floor. This is the exact moment when my eye started twitching and I had a Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood meltdown. Thank God I was the only one home. I shut the door, crawled into bed and took a little rest. I then picked up my kids, dumped them on their father and went for a walk with my friends.

The day got much better after that.

Knight in Shining Armor - In Training

2009-03-01T21:44:00.002-06:00

A little boy was mean to Caitlin on the playground in Corpus and when she told me about it I collared her brother and asked him to play with her since the mean little boy had hurt her feelings. His face got real stern and he asked Caitlin to "show him what boy was mean to her". My little Hercules cornered the probably 16 yr. old boy on the fort and told him to be say he was sorry and be nice to his sister with tightened fists and a barely controlled voice. Fearing violence, I intervened and spoke to the young man who apologized and then went on his merry way.

While I don't want Devin to beat the crap out of random young men on the playground - I do want him to feel a responsibility to protect his sisters. It is a fine balance these days. Most schools have zero tolerance about any kind of violence but let me tell you if some stinky little boy was teasing my girls or was mean to them and Devin got a little pushy then I would congratulate him and not punish him - zero tolerance be damned.

I realize that we are supposed to teach our children to "use their words" and I certainly think that it is the first line of defense. But a sock in the face from one of your peers sometimes conveys a message that mere words can't - especially with little boys. When Caitlin was a toddler this little boy we had over for a playdate kept throwing mud in her face. She had politely told him no three times, the second two times his mother had physically removed him from the backyard but as soon as he was allowed back out he threw mud on Caitlin. By the fourth time, she had had enough and politely asking wasn't helping. She picked up the whiffle ball bat by her feet and swung from her toes. She knocked the shit out of that little boy. Yes I was mortified but he never threw mud on her again.

Run Run as Fast as You Can

2009-02-17T23:11:00.008-06:00

So normally it is a tradition to make gingerbread houses in December before Christmas and we also take a day and make gingerbread people. Unfortunately this last Christmas season we just couldn't get it together to make the people (although we made the houses - it wouldn't be Christmas without the houses). Anyway we decided to make Valentine's gingerbread people and I think this may be our new tradition.

We have so many things to do at Christmas time - decorating the tree and the house, making gingerbread houses, christmas light night, various parties, activities with our church, etc that making gingerbread becomes just one more thing that has to be sandwiched into a pretty hectic schedule. And for the last two years we have done it late because inevitably we ran out of time and since it wasn't in the top ten to do priorities it got cut from the schedule.

Not so with Valentine gingerbread. Making their valentines beforehand to pass out at school and making Gingerbread (that they shared with all the kids at Parent's Night Out) on Valentines gave it top billing. And made it a lot more fun than it might have been if we had tried to "fit it in" during Christmas. We had time to relax and have fun with it. My favorite part of the day was hiding the gingerbread man in the dryer with Caitlin and having Hannah go "check" on the gingerbread people that were supposed to be cooling.

When Little Hannah saw the gingerbread people were gone it was priceless! She came screaming over and told us that the gingerbread people had run away. Then she said we had to look for them and she started running around the kitchen like she had an engine in her butt yelling, "We have to run, run as fast as we can Mommy!". I thought I was going to pee my pants.

Hannah warning the last batch of gingerbread that she is watching them so they
can't run away.

When someone just gets you

2009-02-13T09:22:00.002-06:00

My mom and I went to the theatre last night and saw Legally Blonde. I love the movie and the musical was even better. It is so nice to be of an age that I can go out and do things with my mother as a peer. I hope that I have the same relationship with my daughters when they are grown.

On the way home I am telling her about this study that Jeff and I are doing about marriage. The leader passed out this list of 10 rules to fight fair. I am telling my Mom the "rules" (one of which is not attacking or accusing your partner) and she said, "So you make "I" statements instead of "you" statements? Well you can always say I feel like you have lost your f*cking mind." I tell her the "no cursing at your partner" rule and she says "Well that is never going to f*cking work. How would they even know you were having an argument?"

As you can tell the apple didn't fall far from the cursing tree. But it was nice for someone to just get me. I thought the same thing when I read the rules - how would I even know I was in the middle of an argument if I followed all these rules. And what would be the fun in that? Really how boring would life be without a few heartfelt vaffanculos thrown in every once in a while.

I fight and argue with the people I love because most of the people I love have strong opinions. We fight hard but we love hard too and we don't always agree. Talking politics with my mother makes my head want to spin around and explode, religion can be another area where we generally have to agree to disagree. But I have fun with my Mom and I laugh with her. And I have fun with my husband and I laugh with him. I don't think I want to trade the passion in my life for a vanilla existence with no cursing and no arguing because what if that means less laughing and less fun. Calm isn't all it is cracked up to be.

100th Day of School

2009-02-08T21:30:00.003-06:00

Couldn't you just eat her up with a spoon?

The Week of Allergy Testing

2009-02-05T21:01:00.002-06:00

Lately I have been so busy I barely know my ass from my elbow. I have a heavy load this semester and between working, school, and the kids I feel a little overwhelmed. Plus I usually try to schedule checkups and annual "ologist" appointments in the first quarter of the year because I am anal retentive and I like to get them out of the way.

This week almost all of us have seen the asthma and allergy doctor. Caitlin has to wait until next week because we have had a little issue with her referral. The doctor has approved the visit but getting the referral from her office to the allergists office has proven to be quite an undertaking. I am about ready to play delivery girl. Caitlin has the best lungs in the family which is surprising since she was the tiny little beanie baby with kidney bean sized lungs. Devin and me - not so much. Even little Hannah had to do the spirometry test where you try to blow the leaves off the tree on the computer monitor.

I was a little nervous about my appointment - since my surgery my asthma has not been very well controlled. Well that is kind of an understatement - most of the time I feel like I have an 800 lb. gorilla sitting on my chest. I have felt kindof like Debbie Downer lately - I have just turned a little reclusive because I don't want my friends to run the other way because I am an emotional vacuum. And I haven't blogged much because I don't want every blog to be a drag. I am starting to turn the corner and feeling better - coming to terms with the after affects of my surgery and the changes that entails and trying to be "compliant" with all my asthma medications.

Superbowl and the F Bomb

2009-02-02T18:21:00.003-06:00

So yesterday I was running late to my friends Superbowl party - shocker I know. I wasn't paying too much attention when I parked seeing as how I was trying to simultaneously lock up the car, balance the spice cake, and give my kids the "behave at this party or you will rue the day" lecture.

So the inevitable happened - I slammed my son's entire hand in the car door which I had so conscientiously locked not five seconds before. I am fumbling for my keys - which I dumped in my purse 3 seconds before and he is screaming bloody murder and "clumsy mommy" and UNLOCK THE DOOR". Hannah starts screaming behind him and I don't know if it is sympathy screaming or everyone is paying attention to someone else screaming. I am still looking for the freaking keys. Caitlin starts yelling at Hannah and then pushes her into the side of the car (she explained later that she was trying to get around Hannah to help Devin...riiighhht). At this point I am on screaming kid overload.

I finally find my keys and try to actually get them into the lock and turn while my child is screaming in my ear - "UNLOCK THE DOOR MOMMY _ UNLOCK THE DOOR MOMMY". In frustration, I yell I am trying to unlock the f*cking door - what the f*ck is wrong with this lock? Finally the lock turns and my son's hand is sprung. Thankfully my door has very thick weatherstripping so there was only a thin line across his hand but no bruising, no damage.

But I have just slammed my kids hand in the door, still have three crying children, and have dropped the mother of all F bombs in front my three young children and a stranger that is about to walk into the same party that I am. The stranger naturally is the very first person I am introduced to at the party. I want to demur and explain that the scene she just witnessed was out of character and rare but then I would just be adding lying on top of cursing.

Cinderella, Cinderella

2009-01-31T09:56:00.005-06:00

Remember when you thought cleaning was fun? Some people still may but it is not one of my favorite things. But since I like to relax in my house and I like to have people over it has to be done. To make it bearable I do three things:

1. Keep all my stuff to a manageable level (get rid of clutter!)

2. Manage my time - I may not FEEL like doing another load of laundry but I suck it up because this is the only time window for the next two days.

3. Use my children as slave labor as necessary

Since I live in a small house I have to be aggressive about de-cluttering which is why I have the twice yearly get rid of crap days. I also pick a room a month to streamline to keep it manageable. Less stuff means less stuff to clean. Plus it makes our small home feel more spacious and livable.

Time management is my Achilles heel - sometimes after school and work and stuff with the kids I just want to stamp my foot and say, "I don't wanna!" and then flop on the couch. But because of our schedules we have to manage our time pretty tightly. If I convinced myself to do it later or tomorrow then things would quickly build up and then it becomes overwhelming. 2 loads of laundry is doable but 10 makes me feel overwhelmed. My natural inclination is to procrastinate but then what would take an hour takes all day and who has that much time?

Using the kids as slave labor has done wonders for my sanity. They think it is fun (crazy kids) and once I got over the fact that it wouldn't be done "my way" it has really lightened the load on all of us. Caitlin loves to dust - she also happens to be the only person in the house who is not an asthmatic so it works out perfectly. Hannah could scrub the floor all day. Devin loves to do windows and scrub the bathroom. I realize the day will come when I lose my more than willing helpers but it is nice that they are an age when they can actually help. When they were younger having them help actually meant more work for me but it was a good investment because now I can assign them jobs and they get to work while I am able to work on another area of the house.

It takes less time overall and we have more time to play.

Really?

2009-01-29T22:16:00.004-06:00

Was the phrase "non-edible" really necessary?

Self-Awareness Vs. Change

2009-01-28T20:59:00.002-06:00

Just being self-aware or aware of a situation does not automikcally lead to a change or reversal of the situation. This topic has come up three times in recent conversations and usually when something keeps coming up, I get the idea that maybe I need to take a moment to reflect on it. I have found that it is usually not a lack of knowledge or lack of awareness that leads a problem but a lack of APPLICATION of that knowledge or awareness.

I can KNOW that cake has more calories than celery and that eating cake disproportionately more often than celery will make my ass grow but unless I apply that knowledge in a real way then my knowledge is meaningless. I can KNOW that I am acting like a complete bitch to my husband or my kids and completely overreacting to something minor but unless I pull myself back and reverse the behavior that knowledge is meaningless. I can be AWARE that I am depressed and struggling but awareness doesn't equal a solution to the problem.

Much of my life has been built on knowledge instead of application. When something happens with the kids I run to the library or google to learn everything there is to know about it whether it be cerebral palsy, autism, asthma, social awkwardness. I actually read a book about 20 skills you needed to teach your child and how to do it - what geek reads a book about how to teach your kid to blow a blade of grass? My weakness is in applying that knowledge - my follow through could use a little work. As my kids say "You can't just know it, you have to show it".

I need to work on transforming KNOW to DO.

11 years ago today

2009-01-27T12:36:00.004-06:00

I became a mother. Caitlin's birthday is today and I love all of my children, adore them actually but I hold a special place in my heart for my oldest because she is the one that made me a mother. Caitlin's birth was a watershed moment for me - my entire life is defined in BC and AC - before Caitlin and after Caitlin. Anyone who has a child knows how much the experience changes you - your perception, your body, your mind (or lack thereof) even more than you anticipated. But parents of critically ill children, I think, change even more.

We were so young when Caitlin was born - we had no idea what we were getting into. We should be thankful for that because otherwise we would have been terrified. 11 years later I can still close my eyes and see the delivery room , feel Jeff holding my hand repeating "It will be OK" like a mantra, hearing her two soft little sighs before she was whisked off to be connected to the "business" of preemiehood. I held those two soft little sighs as proof of her tenacity - it is very rare for a 24 weeker to be born breathing - they are almost universally resuscitated. She has gone on to prove that initial tenacity over and over in the last 11 years.

The first time I saw Caitlin I was so scared - what would a 1 lb. baby look like? Would it look human? Would she look like a person or some globulous ill-formed mutant? She was beautiful - she had these amazing long fingers with fingernails, skinny little ostrich legs with humongous feet, and super long eyelashes unfurled on her cheek. Much like a puppy her eyes were still closed and wouldn't open for another several days but she was so perfect just in miniature - she took my breath away.

There are no words to describe the next three and a half months - the fear, the joy, the constant anxiety and uncertainty. It is one of those experiences that you must live through to really understand. Being the mother of such an amazing child is a blessing - I can't celebrate her birthday without rejoicing at the fact that she is here, she is alive and taking one breath after another. I don't know if the day will ever come when her birthday doesn't immediately transport me back to the hardships of her birth and hospitalization but I hope not. I don't ever want to forget how important that experience was in shaping who she is but also in shaping who I am. I am who I am because of her - I am the mother that I am because of what we went through with her. I am grateful that she survived and I am grateful that I am her mother.

Second Verse Same as the First

2009-01-22T22:13:00.004-06:00

Caitlin broke her elbow.....AGAIN! Jeff and I are considering just wrapping her in bubble wrap. This time it is the right elbow. Did I mention her birthday is in 4 days? Oh and her writing TAAKS benchmark is next week? Poor thing.

We are going to ask the orthopedist to run some bone density scans because this makes her 3rd broken bone in 18 months. Her injuries probably have more to do with her balance issues and coordination because of Cerebral Palsy but I want to be sure. I can be anal like that.

It is kind of sad that our concept of normal is so skewed that a broken arm doesn't even register on the Richter scale anymore. Injuries for Caitlin are just so much a part of the everyday it has become "normal". And I wonder - is it acceptance or just defeat?

Marriage Apathy

2009-01-21T21:23:00.003-06:00

I follow several blogs and recently I read something that really bothered me. The idea that monogamy is unrealistic and a forever marriage virtually impossible and not necessarily really desirable. I have watched several of my friends and family members suffer through some nasty divorces due to infidelity and to see so many people with this "oh well monogamy isn't realistic and if it doesn't work out we will just get divorced" mentality is frustrating. Why do people have this idea that divorce is so easy and painless - no one I have seen go through a divorce has emerged unscathed.

Marriage is not a perfect bed of roses just as motherhood is not rocking your baby in a chair while sunlight streams in through yonder window. Yes I have found myself attracted to other men but my loyalty lies with my husband. Marriage is messy and hard and wonderful and passionate and hard (did I already mention that?) - in our years together I have loved my husband, lusted after him, and sometimes even hated him. Often all at the same time. If a man had caught my eye during one of our lowpoints and I had thrown away our marriage on the idea that our relationship had reached its "sunset" - oh what I would have missed!!

My husband and I have history together. We have grown into adulthood and parenthood together, we have mourned family members, stood by our children's hospital beds praying for a miracle. We have held each other hands, kissed foreheads and boo boos, read books, taken road trips, gone into debt and gotten out of debt. We have shouted and fucked and loved and listened. We know each others eccentric faults and love each other anyway. Too many people don't honor the history that they have with someone. Too often they surrender to this amorphous idea of happiness and fail to realize the joy (and happiness) that comes from persevering through the "sunset" and watching the dawn together.

And before anyone says anything I realize that it is up to the two people getting married to determine their own marriage and how they are going to define it. Some marriages just aren't going to work but I think so many people miss the truly amazing possibilities in their marriage because it is so easy and so accepted to just throw in the towel. "Staying together for the kids" has become a punchline for a bad joke but why? Most people would give up their life for their children, starve before their child went hungry, tell anyone who listened that their child is the most important thing in their lives but aren't willing to even attempt marriage counseling. This makes no sense to me - I am not suggesting that people remain in miserable, contentious marriages for the sake of their children. I just don't understand why more people aren't willing to fight for their marriage for the sake of their children when they are willing to make almost any other sacrifice for their ease and comfort.

Girl's Weekend

2009-01-20T11:11:00.003-06:00

So I am back - tired, hungover, and needing a vacation from my vacation. It was much more stressful to have the weekend in my hometown than I expected - 1.) it didn't really feel like I was getting away because I was still surrounded by familiar people, places, and things and 2.) I know and love my home city's eccentricities and pace but it is an adjustment for other people and I felt the urge to defend my city and her people. But it was fun and great to see all the girls again.

This was the first time my Mom got to meet some of the girls since they live out of state and they were gracious enough to let my husband intrude on "girls weekend" for the last night. It was surreal to see two different sides of my life merge so seamlessly. My hedonistic side coexisting with the married, suburban daughter role. If anything it showed me that I need to compartmentalize my life less because the two sides of me aren't as incongruous as I have always thought.

I am ready to start planning the next weekend. More later.......

My Good Friend Anna

2009-01-15T23:28:00.002-06:00

This is my good friend Anna who mentioned the other day that she has never been on my blog. Well if she had more Margarita nights at her house then she would make a more regular appearance (and if she would remember to show up when all the girls have made plans.....hint hint).

Anna is one of those friends that you just can't help but laugh and be happy around. And I am seeing some other women that I just can't help but laugh when I am around this weekend. It is time for another girls weekend - my battery is depleted and I need some time to rest and recharge.

They come in tomorrow and I can't wait!

First Day of School

2009-01-13T16:28:00.002-06:00

Today was the first day back at school for the semester and here is what I learned today:

1.) One hour and 20 minutes is ten minutes longer than my bladder capacity.

2.) I really need to read through my class schedule more closely - I would never have signed up for a class that required an orientation (at a different time than the class meets) in the freaking ghetto AT NIGHT!

3.) The only boys that hold doors open for women anymore are covered in piercings and tattoos. This is Texas for petes sake - open the door, stand to the side and let a lady through. And if the occasional woman fusses at you for opening the door she is capable of opening herself then just smile and write her off as an ungrateful anomaly.

4.) Math still sucks and textbooks are still ridiculously expensive.

5.) Biology is still fun and exciting *whew* My professor is a long time vegetarian (he grimaced even talking about eating meat) and we will be dissecting animals - this should provide the highlight to my semester.

First shaving Experience

2009-01-08T19:08:00.004-06:00

Caitlin decided to "try out" shaving tonight during her bath. Of course the very first thing she does is cut the living daylights out of herself and then proceeds to bleed like a stuck pig. When she finally shamefacedly admitted to her foible all I could to is laugh. I did exactly the same thing when I was her age.

I thought I was too cool sneaking the razor into the bathroom to take it for a test run. I mean my Mom made it look so easy - how hard could it be right? Much like Caitlin, on the first stroke I cut the bejesus out of myself, spent several minutes trying to staunch the triple homicide level of bleeding until tearily confessing to my "experiment".

Right now it is fun to relive some of my pre-adolescent missteps with Caitlin. I can easily accept that every girl has the inaugural shaving disaster, the first bra embarrassment, the girlish giggles and unabashed shock at the sex "talk". I can enjoy it and even share a laugh with Caitlin. But the next stage - the first terrible date, first heartbreak, first time breaking curfew - will I handle that as well? Will I be as nonchalant and accepting of the universal stages of growing up? I want so badly for Caitlin and Hannah to sidestep some of my bad teenage decisions but the reality is they probably won't.

But for now I can just chuckle at the fact that my growing up at the speed of light little girl wanted a hello kitty bandaid for her "boo boo".

My New Favorite Thing

2009-01-07T16:36:00.005-06:00

So I realize there is a certain incongruity, perhaps even hypocrisy inherent in this post. I just railed against my children for being selfish and spoiled and now I am waxing rhapsodic about my new favorite handbag. I found this little gem yesterday when I spent the day with my Mom.

I try to spend a day every week or two with my Mom. Most of the time we have either breakfast or lunch and then we just piddle around. We went shopping yesterday (this is usually what "piddling around" turns into) and looked at handbags and shoes. Actually my Mom picked this bag up first but capitulated to my childish groveling and let me have it (who is a spoiled brat now?).

My two girls are already trying to steal it. Hannah by offering to "carry it" to the car and Caitlin by reminding me ever so subtly that, "You know Mommy, I really don't have many purses". The apples didn't fall far from the tree.

My Spoiled Brats

2009-01-04T20:16:00.003-06:00

Is there a parent in America that doesn't worry after Christmas that they are somehow ruining their children by giving them too much stuff? This is something I have been thinking a lot about lately - my kids are spoiled brats sometimes. They have always had everything they needed and they have most of what they want (even if Mommy and Daddy have to do without to make it happen) and do they appreciate it....not as much as I would like.

My kids are happy, they are mostly well-behaved and polite. But they complain and it drives me up the frapping wall. They complain about dinner, they complain when they have to wait, they complain just to hear themselves complain sometimes. I want to lose it and sometimes I do - just suck it up and shut up! Do you realize how lucky you are? You have a roof over your head, food in your belly, clothes on your back, and shoes on your feet! Not only that but you have two parents who adore you and would do anything for you and you get to live with BOTH of them. I want them to appreciate more than just the Wii for Christmas or the avalanche of toys - I want them to appreciate their lives. Appreciate the mundane, everyday minutiae - the safety and security that they are fortunate enough to not even question.

But everything exists by its contrast and they have never experienced the opposite. They take their lives for granted because they have never known any different. We are trying to instill a sense of gratitude in our children and I am just not sure if we are having any success.

Fire!!

2009-01-02T17:58:00.003-06:00

This is her happy little face before the restaurant. Can I tell you how much I love her knee sock collection?
Somehow little Hannah didn't find the flaming onion volcano as cool as the rest of us did.

2009

2008-12-31T18:45:00.002-06:00

Say it with me.......Awwww. The kids had a lot of fun doing fireworks tonight. Despite my mother's dire predictions and lectures about the terrible dangers of fireworks everyone still has all ten fingers and toes. Jeff and I have gotten old and boring - I don't like to be on the road on New Years Eve so we usually stay home, shoot off fireworks with the neighbors, and barely make it to midnight.

I don't believe in resolutions because I think they are contrived and doomed to failure. I do however make goals each year. Resolutions are so final - you either quit smoking or you don't, you lose weight or you don't. Goals are a process and it doesn't matter if you screw up on January 2nd because it is a goal not an all or nothing proposition.

Goals for 2009:

1.) Listening more than I talk

2.) Being encouraging, discerning, and joyous in my daily life

3.) Spending time with Jeff and each of the kids one on one for special time together

4.) Consistency with my running group and persistence with my gym schedule

5) Wise, thoughtful financial decisions made as a team

6.) Healthy choices 80% of the time (food, exercise, sleep, and fluids)

7.) Discipline and balance with time management - Jeff, kids, school, work, friends, housework

Not Very Happy

2008-12-29T21:43:00.002-06:00

I have found myself doing my typical depression pattern over the last few weeks - shopping more, being kind of reclusive from my friends, feeling tired. I have my follow up with my surgeon next week - I am having some complications from my surgery and I have to wait six months for the fixer surgery. That in itself is bringing me down.

Plus the bubble that I have managed to maintain around myself in the two years since my Mom and stepdad got divorced has burst. In the past two weeks I have passed him twice on the road and it has gotten to me more than I expected. When they divorced the overwhelming feeling for me was sadness for my Mom and relief for me. I no longer had to smile and nod whenever people gushed over him. I was raised to never air your family laundry in public and often I didn't even air my feelings toward him in private either - I just sucked it up and put a smile on my face. I "played nice" for 26 years and what did it get me - reviled and talked about and lied about and my children ignored. Sometimes I wished that I lived in the family that talked about things and moved on,. that can air feelings and disagreements and work through it. But I don't - we have so many elephants in the room the smell of shit is overwhelming.

Remember how in the old days people used to whisper an illness as if not speaking it aloud made it not real. Uncle John has the *whisper* cancer. For us it was (and still sometimes is) pretending everything is normal. Don't mention the newspaper article about him that was so full of self-aggrandizement and outright lies as to be absolutely ludicrous. Don't push him on obvious falsehoods from his past because it will make the day uncomfortable. Pretend not to notice when he is talking out of his ass and you know the "real" answer because it isn't OK to challenge. Take the subtle little digs about your looks, your weight, your intelligence, your ambition, your choices and don't fight back because that isn't nice. But that is in the past - hence the relief.

But there is still the present with another family member. Pretending everything is normal and he isn't married to a crazy woman. Lecturing the kids about not mentioning "her" name when we all spend time with him. Trying to explain to the kids why she hates them so much - that they did absolutely nothing wrong and it is a problem with her and not them. But still acting like everything is fine with him - putting a smile on my face and sucking it up for the sake of a family relationship. Never mentioning how much it hurts that he lets her treat us like dirt without standing up for us in any real meaningful way. That by his actions he validates her vitriolic poison.

I am down and I am tired - everyone has a screwed up family and I am no different than most. I am thankful how much my relationship with my mother has grown over the last several years. I am thankful for a lot of things but I am also contemplative. For so much of my life I have "kept sweet" and I am about all out of sweet.

Semi-Annual Get rid of Crap Day

2008-12-28T13:09:00.002-06:00

We have two days a year when we go through all of our stuff and separate everything into Keep, Give Away, and Throw Away. Usually those official days are June 1st and December 1st but I was a little off my game this year so we waited until after Christmas.

We have too much stuff.....seriously. This twice yearly exercise is a good way to remind myself how fortunate we are. I recently read this book about someone that committed to not purchasing anything other than food and toiletries for one year. We need to do that.

Realistically we won't but we should. If we have this much stuff to give away every 6 months then we have too much. I usually spend the week after Christmas contemplating what I want the next year of our lives to be - what do we want to focus on, where will we go, what will we do, etc. I am never going to be one to live an austere, monastic life but I would like to concentrate more on giving in the next year. Whether it be giving time, giving clothes, giving food, or a listening ear and doing it as a family.

You'll shoot your eye out...

2008-12-25T19:57:00.003-06:00

My son got a BB gun this Christmas ala A Christmas Story. You can hear me say "You'll shoot your eye out about halfway through.

We had a wonderful Christmas - calm and happy. Although it started entirely too early. The kids started at around 1:30 am - "Is it time yet?"and were on an hourly schedule until 6:30 am when my husband and I finally gave in. It would have been perfect if my Mom could have been here but she is sick right now.

And my husband did really well with presents this year - he is such a horrendous liar. Of course I wouldn't want to be married to a man that could lie convincingly.

Merry Christmas to everyone!

Christmas Light Night

2008-12-24T21:10:00.003-06:00

See how happy the kids look? Appearances can be deceiving. Christmas Light Night is one of my favorite family traditions and this year it was pretty much a bust. My husband let the cat out of the bag earlier today so the kids already knew that tonight was night light thereby ruining one of the big parts of Christmas Light Night - running into the kids rooms after we put them to bed for the night and surprising them.

But I could deal with that. I spend close to thirty minutes making homemade hot cocoa after dinner and putting it into a huge Igloo thermos only to have my three children tell me that they don't want to go look at lights. I didn't want to be that psycho mom that forces the kids to do something and they are miserable the whole time but I really was disappointed. We left the kids with Nana and went to drop some chicken noodle soup off to my mom (who is sick) and then look at Christmas Lights by ourselves.

I have to admit the more I thought about it the more irritated I got - typical martyr mom mentality - "after all I do for them and they can't even come look at Christmas lights with me". Then Nana called and said that Hannah was upset because we didn't come back after my Moms to go look at lights together. Huh? She said she didn't want to go earlier.

So we turn around to go home and pick up the kids - Devin is still pouting because he doesn't want to go but Caitlin and Hannah are now on board. I have dissolved into a puddle of hurt feelings and proceed to act like a 2 year old and say I am not going. My husband puts his foot down and orders everyone into the car because dammit we are going to have fun together!!

Another happy family outing..... After a quick lecture by Jeff to all of us about what is important about Christmas and what babies we are all being - we start over (suitably chastened). By the time we got to the light show everyone was having fun and enjoyed it but man did it take a while to get there.

Anticipation

2008-12-24T09:52:00.002-06:00

My kids are practically vibrating with the excitement of Christmas. My little one must have asked 15 times this morning if she could open just one present. Devin has been whispering in my ear, "Mommy you can tell me what you got - I will act surprised when I open it." Too smart that one.

My husband told me last night before we wrapped all the presents that he was just going to wait until the after Christmas sales to buy my Christmas present. Since he knows how important Christmas is to me (and how much I like actually opening wrapped presents) he must have really done well this year. He had that kind of sheepish "I have a secret" look on his face when he spun his line about hitting the after Christmas sales. And if he is actually obtuse enough to think that I will appreciate him saving a little money by buying me something after Christmas you will be reading about it later.

I know Christmas isn't about the presents but there is that childish side of me that likes the tacky wrapping paper and ripping through it like a five yr. old child. I understand my children's overwhelming anticipation because I am the same way - even now as an adult. But now most of my excitement is because I can't wait to see them open their presents. I can't wait to see that look of pure joy when they open a present and it is something they have wanted for months and months. And honestly it doesn't matter to me if they play with the box more than the present - my high comes from seeing their expression when they open it. Everything else is just bonus.

My name is Tamara and I spoil my children....

SORRY!

2008-12-22T10:51:00.007-06:00

I think board games build character - plus they are fun and since it is freezing down here (30 degrees) it helps pass the time. People up north are used to that kind of cold but we take it as a sign to hunker down, drink hot chocolate, play board games and watch Christmas movies. I loved to play SORRY! as a kid complete with the sycophantic, slightly nasally SORRY! whenever I stole someones spot and then sent them back to start.

My little one is still learning how to lose with any kind of grace. Hence the board games - you win sometimes, you lose sometimes, and you have to do both without whining or teasing or you can't play the next game. It is a process....

START: Everyone still looks pretty happy

SORRY!

Three guesses who won and the first two don't count.

Fitting in Sleep

2008-12-21T15:16:00.006-06:00

Yesterday I was reading this article about the Duggar woman having her 18th child and she was saying that having a baby makes you realize how little sleep you need. The thought of having 18 children makes an involuntary shudder race down my spine but I agree that these days I get much less sleep than I want and probably a little less than my body actually needs.

This last week we have had all the kids winter parties and performances at school, several holiday parties to attend, and of course, our own Christmas brunch and cookie party. For some reason every year I forget how long it takes to make 12 pounds of icing in all different colors. The final count from yesterday was 47 kids and I didn't count the adults. Thankfully it is an open house so everyone comes at different times because 47 kids trying to decorate cookies at one time would be a little much even for me.

All the preparations for the party usually does involve staying up late because I am an incorrigible procrastinator. So the night before I end up staying up way too late making all the icing and making the play dough for outside. This year we had the cookie decorating center, the play dough center, the marshmallows with food dye markers, the fake snow center (LOVE steve spangler science!), and sidewalk chalk for the fence. Much like wrapping the presents I tell myself I am going to be more organized next year but then I'm not.

One day when my kids are older they aren't going to want to do the cookie party anymore and I will be heartbroken. I will be able to sleep as much as I want but I won't have near as much fun.

First Hot Flash

2008-12-17T22:46:00.002-06:00

Today I was out with my husband and I had my first post-surgical hot flash. I had a few hot flashes with my last pregnancy because I had hormonal issues plus all the meds I had to take to stay pregnant but they were nothing like this. I noticed I started to feel warm and took off my jacket thinking the heat was on too high. Within another 2 minutes I felt like my head, especially my face, was on fire. I actually stuck my hands in my ice water and rubbed them on my face to try and cool down. Nada. I went outside thinking that would help. Not so much.

My surgeon said it would take a while to get everything in balance as my natural hormones were dropping. I knew to expect it but felt at the mercy of my body. It was depressing. Right after that we went to Academy, I am still on freaking fire and at the entrance there is this woman that looks about 15 months pregnant and she was definitely older than I am. Don't get me wrong - I still feel like a woman after my hysterectomy. I don't mourn the fact that I can't have any more babies because I don't want anymore. But it pisses me off that I am dealing with menopause in my early thirties. Where are the books for me? I am not a empty nester struggling with hot flashes and night sweats - I am a young mom of three children.

Anyway I got a little depressed and did what a lot of women do in that situation (at least the women in my family). I went clothes shopping. I may still battle hot flashes until my hormone levels get balanced out but at least I will do it in new clothes and lingerie.

The confession

2008-12-16T18:49:00.002-06:00

My darling son seemed a little "off" today after school. I didn't give it much thought because he can get a little squirrelly around the holidays. He is a child that thrives on routine and everything being the same (not uncommon for a child with autism). While he enjoys the activities of the holidays, the difference in his normal routine makes him anxious and a little random for lack of a better word.

Finally around 6 pm he tells me that he needs to talk to me in the bedroom. Thinking that he is going to ask if he can have a piece of gingerbread for the 48th time today I tell him "not right now". After about 5 seconds, he tells me that he REALLY needs to talk to me in private.

Off I go to my room to see my son has beat me there and is splayed out on my bed with his most adorable "I have been bad" look. He proceeds to tell me that him and Tyler were hitting each other with their lunchboxes (????) and his teacher said that they both were going to talk to the principal tomorrow. I asked him why he was fighting with Tyler. Typical boy answer "We weren't fighting Mommy - just playing". I have no idea if my son just misread the situation or if they really were just playing. I will have to find out tomorrow.

I launched into the lecture about appropriate behavior and listening to his teacher. About 2 minutes into my controlled rant, my son starts crying. I ask him what is wrong and he says that I was supposed to thank him for telling me about it and ask him not to do that again and then it would be over. Apparently my son has been watching Leave it to Beaver. This response was just so Devin - he had completely scripted his entire confession and how I would respond and when I went off script it freaked him out.

Sometimes it is hard to differentiate between normal boy stuff and autism. If you ever see me hitting someone with my lunchbox it is a pretty safe bet that person is not my friend. But apparently 8 yr old boys (and all other ages of men) have different friendship rules. Hitting each other, bodily noises, singing alternate versions of holiday songs, pretending your finger is a gun and shooting at EVERYTHING - typical 8 yr. old boy behaviour. Crying over your script not working out, pouring out shampoo when you get anxious, orienting yourself in space with an atlas, and memorizing the order of the presidents and when they served - not so much.

I love Christmas!

2008-12-14T19:12:00.003-06:00

Before and After - every year I forget how freaking enormous the tree is. See little Hannah doing the flamingo stand? That is a family trait - it is impossible for the women in my family to wash dishes without standing like this.

Who couldn't love this child?? I love her so much it makes me grit my teeth.

Today in Pictures

2008-12-13T21:45:00.015-06:00

Early Morning Kitty Dress-Up

Breakfast with Santa

Hannah's Last Soccer Game

Exploring the Tree Cave with Uncle Wade, Summer, & Andrew

Hannah's first trophy

Eat three candies - put one on the house......repeat, repeat, repeat

SUGAR HIGH!!

5 kids, 3 hours, and 10 pounds of candy - that glass isn't near big enough.

Presents with my niece and nephew in town for the weekend.

Grown -up Christmas Party and Ornament Exchange

My friend Julie - one of the busiest Moms I know.

Pick up from Parent's Night Out - kids are tired, oversugared, and played out.