legacy

Somehow the bigs and I started talking the other night about what the word legacy means.  W immediately jumps in with “It’s what our ancestors leave us when they die. Like Crown Jewels and stuff.”  We talk about that for awhile and then I ask them if they can think of any other things we could leave behind. Silence. I ask them the question in a different way “What would you like to be known for?” They had the typical kid answers: my awesome singing, my cool hair, my trampoline tricks. It was a fun conversation full of blurting out and laughter. 

In this time of social media, selfies, and filters it is really easy to get preoccupied with how people perceive you. It's so easy to compare and find yourself lacking, yet we often forget that it's almost effortless to create any persona you want. From posting only the positive or just the good angle to outright dishonesty and exaggeration anyone can be anyone.  But get deeper than that, go offline if you will.  Make a list of traits you'd like to pass on to your children -things you won't necessarily find in an Instagram picture. If your tribe was describing you what would you want them to say? Not just the average acquaintance, but your core group of support.  The people that help make up your moral compass.  What would you secretly hope they'd whisper about you when you weren't around? It's not easy is it? After a lot of thought I came up with my list:

I take pride in my job.  I love being a mom and truly feel it's my calling. I can't describe the rush of peace I felt when each new life was placed in my arms. Each stage has been my favorite (okay, not three year old twins) and every day brings new things to laugh about.  I am so thankful I was chosen for these specific five. I hope that they know how much joy they bring me.

I leave things better than I found them. I have a huge issue when people say "Well, that's what they get paid for!". Whether it's throwing my trash away at the movies, or straightening the display when I grab a magazine I try to make someone else's day easier.  This concept also holds true to people.  I have no desire to tear people down.  I have never understood why pointing out a person's shortcomings makes for a better self image for someone else.  This world is hard.  Doesn't it make more sense to support one another and offer a hand? As my sweet friend, Sabrina, says "It doesn't cost anything to be kind".

I make things more fun.  My friend, Tana, has the best laugh of anyone I know.  It's absolutely contagious! My face actually aches after spending time with her because I smile the entire time. Teaching with her was a joy. We worked hard, but it never felt like it because she was so much fun to be around. We still talk most days as she calls me on her way home from school.  My kids have often commented that I'm always happier when we hang up.  She is truly one of my biggest blessings and I hope that I can have the same light bringing affect on people.  

God's Love Shines Through Me When the twins were in the NICU one of  Laurel's primary nurses was Brooke.  We bonded immediately and became fast friends.  She'd pull up a rocking chair and we'd spend the quiet days whispering about our families, our dreams, and our faith. When she talks about how Jesus has changed her life her face lights up. She gets this incredible smile and her cheeks flush a beautiful pink. She knows God.  Brooke loves big as a result of this.  She has a confidence in her friendships and she isn't afraid to fight for them.  She is a fierce prayer warrior and when she speaks I listen hard for there are times I know it is God speaking through her. I love her dearly.  My wish is for my people to describe my fierce love for my family and friends in this way.

It's interesting how peaceful I feel after making this list.  I feel like this list could easily become a focus or centering for my life.  If I have another week like last week where I feel out of sorts I plan to revisit this and see if one area is out of balance: Am I not spending enough time in God's word? Am I not laughing enough? Have I been around a lot of negative people? Have I forgotten how I felt when I first saw my babies?  I'm curious to see if it helps. 

On another note, thank you so much for the amazing comments you all have been leaving on my posts.  I cannot tell you how much they have encouraged me.  I am deeply touched by how many of you reached out and I will not forget your kindness.  

Decision

I haven’t posted in a few days because I needed time to think about how public I wanted to be during the rest of this challenge. I wrote, but it was in my journal instead of on my blog. My posts have been very open about my past struggle with depression and anxiety. I have also been very honest that last week was hard. I could feel myself teetering on the edge of depression and I was treading water like crazy. After some strange interactions and comments (which I deleted) I was left wondering if maybe I’d been too honest. Maybe I was leaving myself open to self doubt and lots of unnecessary criticism. The last thing I wanted was to start a challenge with the intention of lifting others up only to tear myself down. 

As of this morning I had every intention of making a post stating that I’d be completing the Write31 challenge privately. Then two things happened. The first was a sweet comment made by my friend Holly. She took the time to let me know how my honesty had affected her personally and her family. Her words took my breath away. The second was a brave post made by my friend Michelle. She shared an incredibly vulnerable and beautiful part of herself. I’m not insinuating that I had anything to do with Michelle’s post. Her bravey comes from within her. What these two friends did was reignite my passion for honesty and transparency. 

 I have struggles just like everyone else and two of mine just happen to be depression and anxiety. They aren’t my fault. I didn’t choose or cause them. In the same vain I can’t completely fix them. I can control the symptoms, but there will be ebbs and flows. Last week was a valley. This week is better. I can speculate as to why, but I won’t ever really know. Honestly at this point in my journey I don’t care what the reason is. What matters is that I can recognize when I need to be gentle with myself and that I can start to see glimpses of ME soon. 

I have never hidden my struggles. Even when I was embarrassed to admit that I wasn’t up to getting out again. Even when I couldn’t bring myself to answer the phone or reply to the text again. Even when a friend snaps “you’re always in a funk” when I make apologies for not being able to attend another function. Even when one of the first sentences my two year old says is “Mommy’s crying again”. Even when the new antidepressants make me so anxious the only place I can stand to be is in my closet. Even when I lose 30 pounds in a month because the other new antidepressants makes me so sick I cannot fathom eating even one single bite of food. I have always owned who I am. I’m not changing that. This is me. To know me is to know ME. I don’t censor.  I don’t filter. 

I’m going to keep posting on my blog. To choose not to would be inauthentic. 

There is a special kind of freedom that comes from vulnerablity. I don’t have to keep up appearances or remember what excuses I made. That all seems so exhausting. I just have to be me, in all my imperfect, passionate, joyful, honest glory. 

Grateful

I woke up in a funk again today. I’m a little worried that this may be becoming a habit. I haven’t been depressed in a long time and I do not want to go back to the dark place. I have put some self care routines in place in hopes I can ward off whatever this is I feel looming. A good friend of mine recommended making a gratitude list as a way of centering myself and getting some perspective. I agreed that this was an excellent idea, so here’s my list of 7 things I’m feeling grateful for today. I’m warning you that some might seem rather trivial, but I’m a firm believer that the small things really do matter. 

1) I am so glad that I don’t have to sit in the Benold afternoon pickup line everyday.  Today was the first time I have had that experience. Holy. Moly. There is obviously some sort of “Carline Code” that I do not know because I could not figure out what was going on. Y’all, a man parked his car in the middle of the street and walked the rest of the way to the school. He just left his car sitting in the street. Is this a thing? Can we do that? I am extremely grateful that my kids happily ride the bus home. 

2) All five of my kids are happy about school. There are no tears at drop off, no drama on Sunday nights, and no kicking and screaming during the morning routine (I’m looking at you, O). It’s amazing. I’m grateful for the schools they attend and their gifted teachers. 

3) I love that F is blossoming as a father. He is finally able to spend one on one time with each child and everyone is benefiting from it. I love that he now has time to enjoy the home he works so hard for. I find him enjoying coffee by the pool, looking for plants for our yard, and changing lightbulbs without being asked. I love that he has hobbies and friends. Neither of those had been options for over 20 years prior to this new job. I am grateful for this very non traditional job that allows F to have a life and practice medicine. This is something very few physicians have the luxury of doing. 

4) Today I had the chance to visit with a friend who I don’t see often. We sat outside and watched the twins play and made snarky comments about my dogs and the cars driving by (It’s too weird to explain). As the morning progressed the conversation never waned. Every time she stood to leave one of us would mention another interesting tidbit that just had to be discussed.It was bliss. I’m grateful for my handful of friends who are more like sisters. I can fully be myself and soak in the joy and peace they provide. 

5) I love it when I’m in my backyard and I see the four big dogs come bounding out of their house into the yard next door. I know Suzi and/or Eric aren’t far behind. It’s such a comforting routine. They accept the noise my kids make with grace and love and I will forever be thankful to them for that. When F was worried about being gone for a week at a time with his job I had no qualms because I knew Suzi and Eric would be there. I am so grateful for my sweet neighbors. 

6) I had a hard time when O started kindergarten. He and I have a special bond and I really felt a loss when he was gone all week. After reading an article in the newspaper about fostering I impulsively stopped in the Georgetown shelter to get more details. I left with a pet carrier containing a tiny feral kitten. That was one of the best decisions I have ever made. Fostering has become a passion my entire family shares. I love having something we all enjoy that is entirely about giving and nurturing. Through the shelter I’ve made one of my dearest friends. She has seen me ugly cry more times than I can count and always trusts me when she gets the midnight “call me” texts. I am so grateful for impulsive, God led, life changing decisions. 

7) When the twins were tiny grocery shopping was a nightmare. I would wait until W and G got home from school because I needed two carts. The baby toddler arrangement went like this: I’d wear one baby, put O in the seat of the cart, and the other baby would be in their car seat in the basket of the cart. W and G’s cart was the designated food cart. It would take no less than 90 minutes, involve at least one diaper change, and I’d hear “you have your hands full” and “are they all yours?” probably 7,000 times. While I still have to make an occasional trip

to HEB the majority of my shopping happens online. I’m very grateful for amazon prime, instacart, shipt, burpy, and curbside pickup. Thank you from all mothers everywhere. 

 Ending the day thinking about all the ways I’ve been blessed has certainly improved my mood. I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling refreshed and free from the dark cloud that’s been peeking at me. 

Laughter

I woke up in a really bad mood today. There was no particular reason, but it didn’t help that I’d slept thru my snooze alarm and was running late. In hindsight chirping birds was probably not a good alarm choice.  Of all the days today was not the one I would have picked to wake up late.  I had a 9:20 appointment in Cedar Park with my endocrinologist which meant I couldn’t do school drop offs in my pj’s. I hurried everyone as best I could while throwing clothes on myself. I barely made it to my appointment. 

While we are waiting for my doctor Laurel and Rhodes start playing their newest twin game. Twin games are games that only Laurel and Rhodes understand and enjoy.  This one is particularly annoying. One of them will randomly say something gross (like “Poop is yummy” for example) and then they dissolve into laughter. When the laughter dies down the other twin takes a turn being disgusting. We’ve tried getting them to stop and explained that it’s rude to no avail. I start to remind them that this game sucks (I’m paraphrasing) when my doctor walks in. They go back to their iPads and my doctor and I begin chatting.  

I’m in the middle of asking a question when Laurel pipes up with “My mommy makes the stinkiest toots!”. The doctor and I go silent. Laurel and Rhodes turn into laughing hyenas. I want to die. I want to crawl into my purse and hide. I don’t know where to look because I cannot make eye contact with the man sitting in front of me. I’m starting to sweat and I hope that I just melt into a puddle of embarrassment. Before I finish my story I need to explain something about my doctor. He is very very smart, but he doesn’t have much of a bed side manner. He isn’t one to ask how the Holidays were or how my weekend was. He provides excellent care but I don’t expect anything warm from him. Ok, back to the awkwardness: After what feels like an hour he clears his throat and says:

“Little girl, did you just say something to me?”

Laurel looks at him with big eyes and offers up a meek “no” 

“I think I heard you say something about your mommy making stinky toots”

Laurel giggles and whispers “yes”

At this point I have my hands over my face and am mentally spending Laurel’s college fund. 

“Little girl, whoever smelt it dealt it”

At that I throw my hands down and the adults break down in hysterical laughter.  I will never look at my endocrinologist the same way and I’m sure visa versa. 

My day continued to be one big mess. After one of our errands Rhodes fell in a parking lot. He skinned his knee and demanded a bandaid. I, of course, didn’t have one. After unsuccessfully trying to talk him out of needing one I made do with what I had.  

Here is R’s giant bandaid:

He was happy and the crying stopped. We moved on with our day and forgot about our makeshift wound cover. 

I’m in HEB looking at my creamer options when I hear “young man, what’s that on your leg?”. Shit. Shit. Shit. Do I turn around or move down a refrigerator case and pretend he’s not mine? I’m not given a choice when the elderly gentleman begins questioning me: 

“Are you his mom? What is that? Is that...”

I interrupt him with “Yes! It IS a giant bandaid! He fell and hurt his knee and needed this to feel better!” 

“Oh, Ooooooh! Yes, I see! Well, that’s a fine looking bandaid. I’m glad to see that you were able to save his leg, Mom.”  

With that he saluted us and we parted ways. I grabbed my creamer and went straight to the check out line. As I’m loading bags into the car I see our new friend from the store walking up. He’s got a small bag in his hand and a big smile on his face. 

“I’m glad I found you! I bought the young man some real bandaids and put a little something in there for you too, Mom.  You’re doing good. Hang in there. Thanks for making me laugh today.” 

After loading the car I peek in the bag to find Star Wars bandaids and a Hershey bar. My eyes fill with tears and my heart with gratitude. I stop and say a prayer of thanks for the sweet man at HEB. 

Both situations could have been very different if it weren’t for the gift of laughter. Embarrassment threatened to take over one moment while judgement could have easily ruled the other.  I’m so thankful that the people I was interacting with had light hearts. They were able to see the humor in both situations and kept me from feeling the weight of my bad mood. Let people lift you up. Feed off of their positivity when you just can’t find yours. Borrow their joy. If you look, you’ll notice there’s plenty to go around. 

Thieves

There have been times in my life where it was absolutely impossible to find joy. There was no light to be seen. The air was heavy and it hurt to move. Just get out of bed. If you see your friends you’ll feel better. A little sunshine does wonders. All hilarious statements. I would have laughed but... 

that takes energy. 

Then there were the times when my worries became bigger than I was. My thoughts would race. My heart would race. My breathing would race. All this racing but nobody’s sure who won. The best times were when my worries were about nothing. So. Much. Energy. spent on if I’d really mailed the check to the plumber.  IdreallyliketogocheckthemailboxbutthatwouldbesillyofcourseIputitintherebutwhatifIdroppeditanditsflutteringaroundinthegrassIshouldjustgocheckbutthatwouldbesilly. 

Then one day you have had enough of the darkness.  Or your family has had enough of watching you spin in circles. Or the choice isn’t yours anymore because you have little people watching you and needing you. Whatever the reason you take a step toward change. And it’s scary. And hard. And nauseating. But you know you have to keep stepping. One foot then the other. Steady. Plodding. Stepping. 

You begin to realize that it doesn’t matter whether your steps are pills or conversations or stays or books or meetings or Jesus. What matters is that you make them. What matters is that you stay honest about needing them. What matters is that you talk about taking them. 

There is no shame in this walk. 

Today is World Mental Health Awareness Day. Depression and Anxiety have stolen the joy from my life numerous times. I am not uncomfortable admitting this, but many 

people are. The stigma associated with mental illness can delay treatment and prolong suffering unnecessarily. Please speak up if you see a loved one struggling. Offer them a kind word, a sympathetic ear, a cup of coffee whatever it takes for them to know that your opinion of them hasn’t changed. Taking the first step toward treatment is hard. Help your friend or family member be brave. Help them start their walk back into the joy. 

Through the eyes of a child

My perfectionist self is in a tizzy that I skipped two posts this weekend. I remembered that I was supposed to write and I chose not to. The first night I was enjoying the company of my sweet husband who is in town and couldn’t tear myself away. Evening number two was full of laughing and IMovie bloopers while G and I tried our best to learn how to edit and set his video to music. The part of me having a fit is screeching “look what you did!!!! It’s ruined! It’s write31 not write29! Might as well just stop.”  I’m not going to let myself do that. After some thinking I’ve decided that I’m going to really work on showing myself some grace. I don’t want this challenge to turn into one more thing I make an exercise in perfection and guilt. This for me is just as much about recognizing the joy among the harshness as it is stretching as a writer. Missing a day here and there does not make this endeavor a failure. Grace, grace, grace...

My kids know I’m writing about finding joy. It’s led to some interesting conversations about what exactly joy is and how important it is to make sure you look for the joy in your life.  I was curious what they had been taking away from these talks so I asked them to take a picture of something that brought them joy. My only stipulation was that it couldn’t be a video game. 

Here’s what brings W joy: 

His Bass

Here’s what brings G joy:

His guitar

Here’s what brings O joy:

When I saw this I laughed and asked “dead bugs?”. He sighed and said “No, mom! Beautiful things in nature!”.  I was properly put in my place. 

Here’s what brings L joy:

Getting the eggs with Rhodes

Here’s what brings R joy:

Ummmm... ok... well, that little face certainly brings me joy. ❤️

I have to admit I was a little nervous turning them loose with this task. Would I get back 5 pictures of items that made them happy? I was really pleased to find they had each chosen an activity they loved. Although I guess I’ll have to start addressing Rhodes’ preoccupation with himself... or teach him how to flip the camera around. 😉 

self love

Dear Elizabeth,

The words over sensitive, cry baby, touchy, dramatic, and thin skinned are all words you're familiar with.  You've been called them you're entire life.  You know the humiliation of crying for every emotion: angry, happy, sad, excited and hate how it makes you appear weak. You've tried every trick from pinching yourself to looking up at the ceiling to try to ward off the tears, but nothing works. You've cried in professional settings when it was wildly inappropriate.  You've had a superior, who you admire, roll their eyes at you and ask "WHAT, Elizabeth?" when tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks.  You vividly recall the conversation was about a student who was having a major mental health crisis. The tears were because there was absolutely no help available to them. Your 20 something self just couldn't understand how this could be true.  Your 40 something self still doesn't understand it.  

Your heart is easily broken.  You've had a hard time lately because of this.  The hurting and loss in our world just feel too big and it's all just too much.  There's too much violence, and too much sadness, and too much taking.  Sometimes you feel like you can feel the darkness looming and you're afraid it's going to swallow you whole.  That's when you have to shut out the outside world and circle the wagons.  You call on your tribe and hug your babies.  You clench your fists and shut your eyes and pray with all your might that the cracks in your heart will heal.

You love fiercely.  Loving this way brings blessings and risks. You know the joy of true intimate friendship- sisterhood of the heart.  The kind of friendship that makes mothering and marriage doable.  When you love this way your hearts entwine and their hurts become yours.  Their fall is your fall.  There is no way around it- you can't separate the joy from the hurt.  

Elizabeth, You have wished your sensitive heart away many times. At times the hurt and embarrassment it brings just doesn't seem worth it.  The older you get though, the more you realize the blessing you have been gifted. There is a strength in your sensitivity and you are learning to embrace it and be proud of it.  So much of who you are is wrapped up in nurturing.  You love being a mother, caring for your foster kitties, and hope to someday do something with  children again. Your sensitivity helps you do all of those things. 

This world won't change without sensitivity and hope.  That threatening darkness that you sometimes feel creeping in won't be fought back if you hide. You're going to have to love fiercely, have your heart broken, cry at times, and do it all over again.  That's the only way.  You're going to have to use your gift.

Love, 

Elizabeth

Effort

We got to the shelter to find it swarming with people. Cats were hopping under the counter to hide from the chaos. Phones were ringing, and we could hear the dogs barking wildly from the runs behind the building. “Should we come back later, Mom?” asked G. We were there to interview the shelter’s foster coordinator for a project that G was doing for school.  Before I could answer him my sweet friend swept into the room, held up one finger to us, and started expertly organizing the craziness. Within minutes she had 2 new intakes settled and us comfortable in a quiet out of the way space. Toni spent close to 40 minutes with G. She brought him handouts and told him that he was her youngest foster parent. She offered to set up a meeting with the shelter’s vet for him and gave him ideas for his next project. She treated him like a peer. I watched him visibly sit taller in his chair as the interview went on. G left with a huge smile on his face and hasn’t quit talking about his time with Mrs. Toni. 

I was in the  teacher’s lounge sorting papers into take home folders when I overhear a Mom ask if there was a trick to using the die cut machine. “Not the letter E again?!?” another mom chimes in. We all laugh and explain that some of the letters need to be sharpened. When it quiets down and the room clears I ask her what she’s working on. She tells me that she’s making Mrs. F. a display for open house that night. 

“But your little girl isn’t in her class!”

“I know, but when she found out that everyone else had one I could tell she felt left out. I didn’t want that so I decided to make her one.” 

Both of these women touched my heart today. They took the time to help someone else with absolutely no self interest. Toni did not have time to meet with G. She did it because she knew it mattered to a child. The mom in the workroom wanted to make a hardworking teacher feel appreciated. A teacher neither of her children have. I’m going  to challenge my children (and myself) tomorrow to look for a way they can selflessly help someone. I’m excited to hear about their experiences. Maybe this will be our new Friday tradition? 

Time

I reach under the blanket to tickle my boy's toes. I whisper that it's time to get up for school and pray that this morning finds my sweet O in an agreeable mood. 

"No! I'm not going!"
"Sweet boy, I know you don't want to, but it's not a choice. We have to go."
"It IS a choice.  I'm not going!"
"I'm going to go wake up your brothers I'll be back to check on you."
He begins screaming as I walk away.

My eyes fill with tears as I move on to my other children.  I hate that they wake up every morning listening to their brother scream. I hate that I don't get to send them off with any "good luck on your test!" or "I know you'll do great on your speech" pep talks. At this point I'd settle for "Don't forget your backpacks".  Every single moment of our morning is spent cajoling Oliver to get dressed, eat, get in the car, and then get in the building.  I never for one moment take for granted that I have such flexible grace filled older children.  They never complain and often offer help.  

"How's it going, O? You need any help with your shoes?"
"I'm not wearing shoes because I'm NOT GOING TO SCHOOL"

Both shoes are tossed in my direction.  I sigh, pick them up, and put them by his backpack.  I'll deal with them later.  If he gets to school barefooted at least he'll be at school.  I check to make sure the babies are still eating and that W and G are close to being ready. They are all in good shape so I move back to Oli.

"Hi, Sweetie! I'm so proud you got dressed.  What do you feel like eating today?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Ok. Can you force something down? I hate sending you without something in your tummy."

As soon as I've said the words I know I've messed up.  The only way to keep the peace in the mornings is to keep up the illusion that O is not going to school. He insists he isn't and I don't argue.  If I make any comment that he interprets as an invitation to fight then he gleefully brings out the crazy.  I close my eyes and begin deep breathing.

"I TOLD YOU I"M NOT GOING!!!!!!" 

Oliver starts kicking the wall repeatedly and I know that we have just earned our 900th tardy of the year.  


I reach under the blanket to tickle my boy's toes.  I whisper that it's time to get up for school and pray that this morning finds my sweet O as happy as he usually is. 

"You need to hurry or I'm to not just going to tickle your toes but also your nose!"

I watch the impish grin I adore spread across his face as he whispers back:

"Not my nose and toes! Wait until I GROW!"

We both explode into laughter and he jumps out of bed.  That he happily gets out of bed and he can rhyme is not lost on me.  It doesn't take a Lens of Joy to be filled with happiness about the changes Oliver has made.  A diagnosis of dyslexia, intensive intervention with a gifted teacher, and lots and lots of positive reinforcement from the adults in his life have softened Oliver's heart and helped him make huge progress academically.  My silly O is back! 

There are times though when I wonder about the future and where O is headed.  What is college going to look like? What kind of job will he get? Is he going to sleep in his bunk bed forever? That's when I have to stop and make myself think back to all Oliver and I have been through. My Lens of Joy helps give me perspective.  He's Oliver! He's tough and persistent and brilliant.  He is amazing.  He's my hope.  

Trust

If you know me at all you know that I am a planner at heart.  I have had a long running love affair with my calendars (yes plural) and my comfort zone is knowing who, what, when, and where at all times.  So far, this challenge has been one big giant Nope on planning ahead.  I mentioned in my last post that I was going to do something different and not prewrite. I was just going to trust that my post for the day would find me. Y'all, that's HARD. I am a writer through and through. I write in my head all day long.  I am constantly grabbing a pen to jot down random sentences for posts that may or may not actually be published. By noon I'd "written" at least 3 posts that I could have made physical this afternoon. In yoga this is called monkey mind... you're supposed to be meditating and have an empty clear mind, but your brain is jumping around on it's own trampoline.  I finally decided to read to the twins in an attempt to quiet the jumping monkeys in my brain. 

At 2:30 I hear my text chime go off with G's teacher's alert.  I jump up to find this from her:

I immediately start to cry.  Both from the beauty and hope in my sweet G's words, but also because I can already see that having faith isn't meaningless.  It's work and scary and so so so much easier to fall back into old patterns, but look what the payoff is just today!

Reading G's truism brought me such peace.  He loves with a heart so genuine  and pure.  He has been hurt and confused by adults and friends at times but he chooses to keep loving the same way.  If he can make that choice so can I.  Living life with our joy lenses on.  

Finding My Way

I learned of the devastation in Las Vegas this morning right after I turned off my alarm.  I read all the news alerts on my phone and then hid under the covers telling myself  "I can't do this".  As I lay there in tears I wondered what exactly I couldn't do... Get up? Get dressed? Life?  I had to talk myself into waking my children and starting the day.  I wanted nothing more than to keep them home, throw all "smart devices" in the trash, and plan our new compound life.  My heart hurt and I needed my babies near me. 

When my anxiety overwhelms me I can always count on routine.  Predictability soothes me. I lose myself in some mundane task (like folding laundry) and eventually I can feel my heart rate slow and my racing thoughts begin to organize.  Today the familiar drive to our preschool across town was the perfect distraction.  I realized that what I am feeling is fear.  I am afraid that tragedies are going to continue.  I am afraid that the divisive tone of our country is only going to get worse.   I am afraid for my children to be out of my sight.  I am afraid that something "big" will happen when my husband is working out of town and we will be separated.  With every speech, news show, article, and conversation I feel my hope fade and my fear grow. I know I have to find my balance.  To feel fearful and anxious so often just isn't healthy.  Life is hard.  The time we live in is particularly hard. But it can't be ALL bad.

I recently stumbled on this quote by Erline Patrick:

"Life lived and seen through a lens of JOY brings Hope, Strength, Courage, Faith, and Love."  

A lens of joy sounds beautiful doesn't it? After some thinking today I had the idea to use the quote as a sort of recipe.  I want to grow my Hope and Faith especially, but if Strength, Courage, and Love are byproducts too then even better. Other than using Write31 to document this journey I have no idea what this will look like.  My guess is that it will change often.  I'm going to try my best to just go with what each day brings and to make sure I'm looking through a lens of Joy.   

Write31

I may really regret this, but I've signed up for a writing challenge called Write31.  I'm supposed to free write on one topic every day for the entire month of October.  I don't have any trouble writing every day it's the publishing without editing that's giving me pause.  I'm not sure I'm ready to share my ugly stream of consciousness with everyone.  The point is to stretch as a writer and see how deep you can delve into one topic.

Speaking of topics... I have a great one! I am SO excited!  I can't wait to share all my thought provoking posts with you. I have been prewriting and brainstorming like a "real" writer and am so super prepared. 

 

Just kidding. 

I don't have a subject. 

For real. 

The challenge starts TODAY and I DO NOT have a topic.

This is not like me at all.  I want to click the x in the upper right corner of my screen and try again next year, BUT I'm not going to let myself do that.  I'm going to keep thinking and praying.  A subject will come to me.  I've been drawn to this challenge for a reason and I need to have faith that if I keep going I will complete it. 

Even if it starts TODAY and I DO NOT have a topic. 

Dear Darling Children,

Dear Darling Children:

We have had such a lovely summer.  I have loved every second of swimming and eating snow cones.  Staying up late and watching movies with you has been divine. Exploring new places and having fun with friends was just the break we needed. However, we have reached a new point in the summer.  I feel it's only fair to let you know that Beginning of the Summer Mom is gone and has been replaced by End of Summer Mom.

While I am so very happy you're still home this End of Summer Mom is starting to feel the burn from the hot August sun.  The pool isn't quite as refreshing.  The snow cones a little sickly sweet.  In short, my sweeties, you're really starting to bug me.  

In the beginning I didn't really miss my silent house.  It was nice to have the noise! I hadn't realized how quiet things were until they weren't.  Now the constant chatter of YouTube gamers and Oliver's Opera imitations have caused a chronic twitch in my left eye.  I'm hopeful come September it will quit.  If it doesn't and I'm forced to wear an eye patch, then your punishment will be to dress up as pirates with me for Halloween.  I know how you all feel about family themes! Arrrrgh! 

Dearhearts, let's talk about my car for a second.  I know that cleanliness has never been a real priority for my vehicle.  The twins have made that a near impossibility.  However, collectively you all have turned my car into a small dirty Walmart.  It is full of shoes, snacks, books, paper, straws, markers, clothes, cat food, and yesterday I found something resembling a lemon, but Grant corrected me and informed me that it was at one time an apple.  I have found myself on more than one occasion completely bypassing the pantry or cupboard and going straight to my car.  That in itself is worrisome, but that I didn't even think to look in the pantry or cupboard is what really bothers me.  What have you all done to me???

I've noticed a change in our grocery list too. I've gone from ordering 2 boxes of cereal a week to 4. 4 gallons of milk to 6.  2 loaves of bread to 3.  You know what I haven't ordered all summer? Toothpaste. I brush Laurel's, Rhodes', and Oliver's teeth.  Will and Grant. That's just gross, guys. Seriously.  Go brush. 

Now. 

I have one more thing I need to get off my chest.  Beginning of the Summer Mom was really enthusiastic about all the crafty activity things we could do together.  End of the Summer Mom is not.  I am no longer participating in activities involving slime, baking soda, silly string, water balloons, tempra paint, or any activity necessitating a trip to a craft store. I am also not participating in any activity requiring the use of a mixer, oven, stove, scissors, or adult supervision.  However there is good news! There are no longer any limits on screen time or game time! Have fun.  Just put your headphones in. 

Dearest Blessings, I love you and I love our time together.  I will love it even more after August 17. 

Love, 

Mama

  

Rescue Me

The smell almost knocks us over as we walk through the door. The kids begin to make gagging sounds and make bets about what could have made such a horrid smell. My eyes fill with tears both from the smell and from the knowledge that I'm going to be the one to have to deal with the mess. The awfulness gets worse the closer I move to my bedroom.  I'm not sure I want to open the door, but know I really have no choice. I say a silent prayer for a sudden stuffy nose and push the door open. It's worse than I thought. 

Scrappy, one of my newest foster kittens, has taken out his anger at me by leaving me "gifts" all over my bedroom, bathroom, and closet. He is what I call a "revenge pooper".  He doesn't want to be put away and never hesitates to let me know that. G put him in our foster room before we left, but the door is known for not latching correctly. I'm now kicking myself for not getting it fixed. 

After cleaning up Scrappy's Poo Party I skip dinner and head for the shower. While I'm in there I ask myself the same question I've been asked a million times: "Why do you foster kittens...it's so much work and you just give them back in the end?" 

I used to post quite a bit about my foster babies on social media. I quit because I was tired of all the "crazy cat lady" comments. While they were funny at first, they quickly took on judging tone. I didn't want to have to answer that Yes, I had another one, and Yes, I was getting up every two hours all night to bottle feed it, and Yes, I knew it was just a cat. 

To me it's more than caring for just a cat. It's a way for me to communicate with God. It's my way of praising Him for the amazing beings He takes the time to create. I firmly believe we are charged with being good stewards of all His creations. Nothing is too little or too insignificant for God so why should it be any different for me? 

Out of my current fosters these are the two babies that have caused me much worry and have absolutely stolen my heart. 

This is Berry: 

He was found still attached to his placenta outside a Walgreens. He weighed 3 oz when I got him. The shelter's foster coordinator estimated he was about 2 weeks premature. His sister, despite my very best effort, didn't survive. 

Here he is now:

 

He is spunky and spoiled rotten and I'm not sure that my heart will be able to give him up.   

This is Gus:

 

He was found alone at Southwestern University. We think he was about 2 weeks old and at the time weighed almost 12 oz.  He cried for his mom and siblings for days and seriously just about broke my heart. He drinks his bottle with his eyes closed and I always wonder if he's imagining that he's nursing from his mama.

I've only had him about 2 weeks, but here he is now: 

 

.  

I hope I'm always lucky enough to have a house full of kittens. It can be chaotic, messy, even a little overwhelming at times, but my heart is always full and laughter is never far. If you ever need a pick me up this crazy cat lady's door is always open. 

My Friend

I get the text full of pictures and unexpectedly begin to cry. Images of black gowns, mortar boards, bouquets, and smiling faces full of pride and promise. While the girl at the center of the ceremony is one I could not be prouder of, it is her mother that is filling my heart with such joy.  

Emilia has been my family for more than 15 years. We have held each other up and celebrated with one another through life's ebb and flows. We love each other's children as if they were our own. Our friendship is one that runs deep and will no doubt be lifelong. 

I have watched Emilia mother her daughter single handedly. I have seen the tears brought on by worry and fear of the unknown. I have witnessed the hours upon hours of work necessary to pay for the education being celebrated today. I have seen you, Emilia. 

This is your accomplishment too, my friend. Be proud of what you have given your daughter, as you have forever changed her life for the better. 

You did it!!!!! 

Adjusting

I've been asked several times lately how we're all adjusting to F's new job.  It's taken me by surprise that I've had the hardest time with it.  I was so worried about how the kids would deal with F being gone half the month that I didn't really consider that I'd be a single mom for the same amount of time. 

In the past F's job was very demanding, but we saw him in bits and pieces. While I was on my own the majority of the time I did get sporadic relief/help.   Being the only adult in charge of 5 children for 7 days straight is a whole new game.  I'm an introvert and having to be "on" 24 hours a day leaves me exhausted.  I am quite literally out of words by the end of the day.  F will call and I'll have to apologize and explain that our very talkative children have used up my word quota and we'll have to try again tomorrow. I crave quiet and solitude the way I craved donuts when I was on weight watchers.  It's crazy!

While things have gotten easier I still have my moments. This evening wasn't pretty and I feel terrible about it.  The kids had been out of control most of the day.  We had a huge storm this morning and our patio furniture had been tossed in our pool. I spent an hour dragging it out and feeling sorry for myself that I had to do so.  One of our dogs keeps following me around staring at me.  I know she wants/needs something, but I can't figure out what.  At first it worried me and now it's just creepy.  Rhodes has started screaming this super high pitched scream.  All the time.  Happy or sad or mad.  And then there's O.  Oliver is being 100% noncompliant 100% of the time.  Fun times.  All of this adds up to me being one big ball of nerves.  I decide a glass of wine is needed. Just as I'm starting to relax Laurel runs up and garnishes my glass with a twig.

This is the point where I start to lose my shiz.  I won't embarrass myself by replaying all the details, but I will say that there were tears (mine), yelling, stomping, and a rousing command of "everyone to bed NOW" at 7:00.

During the stomping random things keep running through my mind...

"Why did God make THIS my path? This is HARD"

"I need a nanny"

"I'm making some rules and I'm going to post them on the pantry door"

"These kids are UNGRATEFUL"

Then I stop.

The house is totally quiet.  I suddenly feel ashamed.  I sit down in the nearest chair and I just listen.  I listen to the quiet and feel in my bones that I'm exactly where He wants me to be.  I just need to quit fighting.  I'm trying to do this on my own.  He's letting it be hard on purpose so I'll need Him.  I don't need a nanny.  I don't need rules.  I need Him. 

Tomorrow I'm waking my sweet Bigs up a bit early for a breakfast meeting. We're going to have coffee-milk and a talk.  I owe them an apology. Then we're going to make and sign an agreement that says we promise to treat each other with kindness and we promise to notice each other.  It's important that we really see each other.  We can't support each other if we are always looking at ourselves.  That goes for mama too. 

A Rough Start

Happy 2017!  

I hope this new year has started off on a positive note for you and yours. It has certainly been a rollercoaster for my family.  Lots of transitions, changes, discoveries, and resolutions.  Its hard to believe so much has been crammed into 23 days.  It hasn't been an easy time, but I'm hopeful that we're coming out of the worst of it.

As you know we've suspected that Oliver has Dyslexia.  It's a hard diagnosis to make made even harder by his age.  So many of the symptoms can be developmentally normal and outgrown.  The beginning of kindergarten was agonizingly hard for Oli.  My sweet even tempered boy began throwing massive tantrums. Getting to school on time became a struggle because of his refusals to get in the car. We began hearing him say things like "I'm dumb", "I'm stupid", and "I'm a loser". 

My heart broke on Thanksgiving when he cuddled up in my lap and with big tears in his eyes told me "Mama, I'm sad.  I don't know why I'm sad, but I am." As a person who has struggled with depression I knew just how he felt and just what he meant.  My baby was trying to tell me, in the only way he knew how, that his struggles had become too much. I reached out for help soon after.  

The saving grace in this situation has been our amazing elementary school.  They have gone above and beyond what is expected of them for Oliver.  In September we met to request speech testing so that the school district could take over his therapy.  During this meeting O's learning struggles were also discussed. The meeting was adjourned with the understanding that only speech would be assessed at that point.  Without going into too much detail lots of behind the scenes discussions took place and it was decided that it would be best to also test Oliver for a learning disability. To get the district to agree to test a kindergarten student is almost unheard of.  This was truly the work of God.

In early January we were called to school to discuss the results of the testing.  I was a nervous wreck and couldn't sleep for days leading up to the appointment.  I walk into the room and see a woman I don't recognize sitting at the table.  She introduces herself to me and explains that her position is on the district level. At that point I think that either I've gotten the reputation of being "that mom" and they are expecting me to pitch a fit when they tell they aren't going to do anything to help Oli or they've found something really awful in his testing and she's here to explain it to me. Thank goodness it wasn't either of those options.

She starts the conversation off by explaining that she likes to start with the "big picture end result" because she knows that's what parents are anxiously awaiting. I liked her already! She flips to the end of a gigantic packet and points to a page that contains all of Oliver's testing scores.  Only one area is highlighted in blue.  The area is phonemic awareness.  Out of all the testing done on Oli this is the only test that he didn't perform extremely well on. In fact, he did really, really poorly on it.  She explained that a deficit in this area usually indicates dyslexia.  She went on to say that typically in a child as young as Oliver they take a watch and wait approach, but there were several other red flags that made it important to get him tested for dyslexia now.  

Upon hearing the news I immediately burst into tears.  I was just so relieved that I wasn't going to have to fight for more testing.   After taking a deep breath we finished the meeting and set a date for the end of March to discuss the results of the dyslexia assessment.  We all feel confident that Oliver will be identified as dyslexic and we can start getting him the help he needs.  What a blessing that this can happen for him in kindergarten as opposed to second or third grade when identification usually happens. 

I've tried to start this section of the post a thousand times and there's no easy way to do it.  It's the biggest change my family is facing and because of so many pending legal issues I can't discuss it in detail.  When I married F I wrongly assumed that physicians started their practices and that was that.  They didn't move.  Their jobs were stable and didn't fluctuate... I mean everyone gets sick and has babies, right?  I had never heard of noncompete clauses, employed physicians, hospitalists, locums physicians, income guarantees, RVU's, the list goes on and on. I am now completely fluent in this language because it has consumed my marriage for the last 7 months.

In June it was decided that F wouldn't be returning Cedar Park Regional in the new year.  We needed a change and were hoping that we could move his practice closer to home.  After a summer and fall full of introductions, dinners, contracts, negotiations and renegotiations we thought we'd found the perfect place.  We spent the holidays celebrating our good fortune and F went to his new office January 3.   He came home early that afternoon looking especially stressed.  "There's a problem with the new contract"  and negotiations began again.

These 20 days have been a series of "what now?" moments.  Just when we think we have it all figured out another kink in the plan shows up and we have to spend another 3 or 4 days figuring out what to do. We have been in negotiations with 2 hospital systems.  One local and one not.  One has been an absolute joy to work with and one hasn't.  One will be a traditional set up and one will require F to work out of town a week at a time in a critical access hospital.  There are pros and cons to both.  We think we have everything settled.  As soon as everything is signed I can fill you in on all the details.  Until then please pray that this last part will go smoothly without any surprises.  F and I don't like surprises anymore.