On My Mind: Random

Lately I have really been feeling the extremes of having five children.  When things are running smoothly it is amazing!   The house is full of laughter, messes are manageable, and I am able to go with the flow.  BUT, then there are months like this one.  The babies have been sick for what seems like weeks, Frank is working late most nights, and each big kid has had their own issue that has seemed extra needy.  It's during these times that the noise in the house seems unbearable and I find myself saying "Go play outside" way more than I normally would.  I notice that I'm constantly straightening and organizing, and any variation from our routine irritates me. I just can't relax and sink into the moment like I normally do. I am thankful for the ebb and flow of life as I know that this time will pass and things will calm down again. 

I've been really thinking about is this blog.  When I started this I intended for it to be a record of our family.  I thought I'd show off pictures and record what we did each month.  Without realizing it I'd slowly stopped making those type of posts (I think because I'm so active on Facebook). Instead, I'd started posting about how I was feeling about our family structure and the changes that were happening within it as my kids grew.  I love writing about my family.  It's a good outlet for me and it forces me to get to the root of whatever issue I'm being challenged with.  What I'm struggling with is how this affects my Bigs.  They have reached the age where they need privacy.  Their stories aren't mine to tell anymore. I'm still thinking and reading other blogs to get ideas. To be continued...

Little vs. Big

When I was in college I had an amazing professor named Dr. Sludor.  She taught several educational foundation courses which everyone had to take before they started their specialization classes. Sometimes a lecture would take a turn towards a particular specialty she would call out "Listen up little kid people!" or "Pay attention to this big kid people!". I knew I wanted to specialize in early childhood education so I always sat up a little straighter when I heard her mention my peeps.  I was proud to be a Little Kid Person!

My preference for working with young children stayed with me all throughout my career.  I taught preschool, kindergarten and first grade.  I once had a principal tell me that my assignment the following year would be second grade and I about had a heart attack.  "SECOND GRADE?!? But they're BIG!" When I started having my babies I had no qualms about caring for them.  I was confident I was meeting their needs and was enjoying every moment of it.

I had a really hard time when Will turned 7.  All of a sudden he didn't want to be called Willy and he wanted a Nintendo DS instead of a Leapster. He started closing the door when he got dressed and he had friends that I didn't know.  All of those things are natural milestones (well, not the DS) but knowing that didn't make them sting any less.  It was an awkward year full of pushing and pulling by both of us. I wanted Will to grow up and be independent, but I wasn't sure how to deal with a 11 year old.  I was so good with babies and toddlers, but what about tweens and teens? Just thinking about it made my anxiety go crazy.

Throughout all of this the constant joy for both of us was reading.  Will had become a voracious reader.  He was reading books meant for much older kids than 7 and was desperate to talk about them.  We spent many hours laughing and talking about characters and plots.  We scoured Barnes and Noble looking for the next book in our favorite series and jumped with excitement when a long awaited release date finally arrived.  One afternoon after a particularly good conversation it dawned on me that I was really enjoying Will as a person.  I liked his point of view and looked forward to our conversations.  It was different than when he was a toddler and snuggled in my lap to read books, and I had to admit that I enjoyed it so much more! 

Fast forward to now and Will is almost 10.  We still have the best book talks, but now Grant, who is 8, joins us. My relationship with them is rich and full of laughter. Every day they amaze me with an observation or an odd fact and I get a little glimpse of the men they are growing into.  I've learned that during this stage of parenting I will never have the confidence I had while raising them as babies and toddlers.  The saying "The bigger the kid the bigger the problem" is most definitely true. I've had to commit myself to learning as I go. I can't anticipate and prevent issues with them like I could when they were younger. There are just too many unknowns and outside influences.

I could have never anticipated the amount of joy these big kids would bring me. Any uneasiness I have about our next journey (the tween years!!!) diminishes when I think about how much I worried about the stage I'm currently enjoying. Who knew that I'd be just as proud to be a "Big Kid Person"?  

Reflection

I should not be allowed to blog when sleep deprived.  I apologize for my very Faulkner-like stream of consciousness rambling last blog post.  While it was very honest and straight from my heart it was an absolute disaster to read.  I have been feeling very unsettled lately (I know you're totally surprised) and last week I just sort of threw up on my computer and hit publish.  Thanks for sticking with me and for offering sweet words of support. 

Back to this fall.  I've been in a weird place and my first instinct was to place  the blame outside our home. I felt pulled in too many directions and that my children were suffering because of it. You saw that ugliness in my last blog post.   Knowing she had been in my situation I talked to my sweet SIL and took her advice. I thought about our family's priorities and values and made a list of what I wanted for us. I truly thought this was going to lead us to homeschooling. So many of my frustrations come from drop offs, pick ups, homework, practice times, meetings, therapy times, etc., etc.  In my mind eliminating the hustle and bustle of school and tailoring a curriculum to our needs/wants would simplify things.  I was surprised to find that the thought of pulling our bigs out of school broke my heart.  I love our school.  I love the relationships we have with the teachers.  I love crossing my fingers every August hoping we get our beloved favorite for that particular grade level. I love that we have to wipe tears away in May when we say goodbye.  I love our custodian, Ms. Doris, who went thru the twins pregnancy with me.  The babies know her and get big smiles when they see her in the halls.  I appreciate the rigor of the curriculum, and while I complain that I need to visit youtube to help with homework, I'm proud that my bigs rise to the challenge.  I love serving on the PTA board.  I know that debating fundraisers isn't curing cancer, but it makes me happy. Ok, no changes to school then.   I also looked at the extra curricular activities the bigs are involved in.  They each have one activity.  G takes guitar lessons out of our home and W is in cub scouts (F even takes him to the meetings).  No changes to be made there either. 

At this point I'd just resigned myself to having to learn to feel satisfied with the status-quo.  I needed to work on getting more sleep and more "me" time, but life with five kids was never going to be calm or simple.  Then God spoke.  Loudly.  Bluntly.  I love it when He does that. In my devotional yesterday:

"I will hold myself to a standard of Grace and not perfection."

One of the happiest times of my life was when the twins were brand new.  It didn't matter that I had very little help and that I had to balance 3 other young children. I was so focused on my family that everything else fell to the wayside. It was the first time in my life that I wasn't holding myself to the ridiculously high standards I usually set.  My job was to nurse the twins, play with Oliver, and be with W and G when they got home from school. If I failed at anything else it was no problem because I had the built in excuse of new twins.  Beds not made? New twins  Cereal for dinner? New twins  Dirty floor? New twins  O's watching too much TV? New twins  There was no pressure only happiness and a feeling of contentment.  I showed myself grace because I knew I was doing the very best I could do.

Why is it so important that all the beds be made before I leave the house every morning? Why does my calendar have to be color coded? Why does every toy have to be put away before naptime and before bedtime? Why am I so disappointed in myself if I don't do these things? Where did the grace go? 

I have a very nurturing spirit and love to mother.  Frank jokes that my maternal instinct is too developed. I wish I could somehow shift some of that nurturing and mothering to myself. There just isn't room in my life for the frantic, hectic, guilty energy that comes from perfectionism.  This was also in my devotional yesterday:

"When we take the time to really be thankful for the lives that we lead, that recognition of our blessings will eat up the space we would normally fill with noticing what we don't have or what we're not." emphasis mine

I once read that thankfulness is an art form.  I believe that.  I know that the absolute gratefulness I felt when my babies were finally home from the NICU and thriving is very different than the thankfulness I feel today.  I want to get back to the selfless praise that leads to grace.

Is it even possible?

This fall has been really hard.  I've been struggling to balance all the kids' different needs and am ashamed to admit that I think I'm failing.  There are days where the only one on one time my kids get with me is homework help and diaper changes.  O doesn't need either one of those so I guess he's out of luck.  There have been afternoons where the twins have spent multiple hours in their car seats as I run from pre school pick up to elementary school pick up to occupational therapy. People reassure me that the twins won't remember and that I'm doing the best I can, but I'll remember and I know they deserve better than to sit in the car for 3 hours twice a week.  

I recently saw the hashtag "collect memories".  It seriously brought tears to my eyes.  I started this blog as an attempt to do just that.  Collect precious tidbits, pictures, and my impressions of this time. I know I can't get it back.  I just can't seem to find the time to post.

I'm sacrificing sleep for time alone.  Instead of getting the sleep I NEED to function I'm staying awake reading so the introvert side of me gets the quiet space I NEED to function. I can't win.

I crave simplicity.  I need it to be my happiest.  My calendar does not look simple.  It looks full. This does not make me my happiest.

All of this to say that I need to figure out how simplicity looks with five kids.  Is that even possible?  We seemed to be in such a good place last year and now everything seems so hectic.  I'm not sure what changed, but I'm going to spend this weekend thinking about how to get back there. 

Happy Birthday!

I turned the big 4-0 last month.  It's taken me this long to post about it because It really threw me for a loop.  40 has always been my age. The "you're officially middle age the best is over what do I have to look forward to if you say grand kids I'll cry" age.  After my birthday I did some thinking, started my anti aging skin care regime, and settled into my new decade.

Being at this point in my life means I've learned a few little things:

1) I will never ever look good in skinny jeans.  
2) Never leave home without a book.  
3) Hard boiled eggs make your fridge smell like feet. 

I've also learned a few big things.  These are the hard won lessons that came from God and usually with many tears.  

1) As my good friend Sabrina says "It doesn't cost anything to be kind". For many years I thought that kindness and strength were mutually exclusive.  That the delivery of my message wasn't near as important as my message.  That's simply not true.  I've never once regretted softening my words and usually find that I get a better response/result if I come from a place of kindness.  We all deserve kindness and grace and I do my best to approach others from this point of view. 

2) Silence is OK.  My former boss and friend, Julie, taught me that gaps in conversation don't always need to be filled. I've found that if I can get through the uncomfortable tension that what follows is usually profound and gets to the heart of whatever we're discussing.  This has served me well in my marriage and in my relationship with my oldest son.

3) Most everything in life is gray.  There is always a "but what about...?" even if it's not being said.  Reducing everything down to a 'right or wrong 'point of view shuts down growth and makes it impossible to be anything other than judgmental.

4) I need God.  I cannot do this life on my own. When I try I fail. If I look back on the times I really struggled it wasn't necessarily when something awful had happened but was when I was furthest from Him. These times were full of unease and anxiety.  I felt like something was missing and I couldn't stop moving.  Things would fall back into place once I adjusted my focus. Whenever I start feeling antsy I know I need to spend some time in prayer. 

5) Women need women.  My husband lost his sweet stepfather early in our marriage.  After Joe's death we picked up his mom from the airport and drove her two hours home. She held it together the entire ride but fell apart as soon as she saw the friends who were waiting for her.  She knew they understood and she felt safe.  She could just be.  It would be several years later before I could really understand the depth of that kind of friendship.  My girlfriends and I have supported each other through the birth of children, the ups and downs of marriage, chronic and painful illnesses, and the struggle of keeping it together for our families.  Our spirits understand and soothe each other with a depth that truly can only be a blessing from God. I'm so thankful that Laurel will grow up seeing these relationships. 


Here's to always learning and to being on the better side of The Hill!

Parenting Through Depression and Anxiety

I used the word through in the title of this post purposely.  Most of the time authors use the word with, but after some thought I decided that the word with makes me angry.  Depression and anxiety aren't my partners.  We aren't arm and arm working together.  They are unwelcome inhabitants in my village.  They are the filter that distorts the way I see life.  I have to fight through them to be the kind of wife and mother I want to be.

I've suffered from generalized anxiety disorder my entire life.  As a child I was described as "sensitive" and "emotional". I took everything personally and seriously. I never talked to my parents about it because I thought everyone suffered from insomnia in August (because school would be starting soon) and that stomach pain so intense it kept me from eating was just part of summer camp.  Things got easier for me in college as more things were in my control: the classes I took, where I lived, and how social I was or wasn't.  My first experience with depression was after my first miscarriage. I could feel it hit.  I was lying on the ultrasound table listening to my Dr. apologize after not finding a heart beat. I went numb and stayed that way until the birth of my first child, Will, close to two years later.

Depression and anxiety are still apart of my life. I've learned how to cope with them better, but I still have moments where they get the best of me. After so many years I know what my warning signs are. A big signal that I'm spiraling down is when normal household noise becomes too much.  I startle at Oliver crashing cars and the sound of forks on plate makes me grit my teeth.  I also start to isolate and withdraw. Answering calls, responding to texts, and seeing friends are all impossible. Keeping my tears at bay and forcing myself to interact with my family "normally" is such an effort that I literally have nothing left.  

This summer I've been struggling with depression.  It's not debilitating, but it's there.  I know all the right things to do: take my Zoloft at the same time every day, go for walks, sit in the sunshine, pray.  I've been faithful in my self care but it's not budging.  In the past I would have soldiered on and worn myself out trying to hide it from my kids, but last week it hit me that they need to know about this.  My struggles are genetic.  My mom and brother both share them just like we share our sarcastic sense of humor. It took me until I was an adult to recognize that my feelings weren't typical and for my brother and I to reach out to one another.  We are now very open and honest about how we're doing, but I often think about how much easier our burdens would have been if we recognized what was happening as children or teens.

After some thinking and prayer I decided to have a conversation with my 3 oldest. I waited until we were playing in the pool to start the discussion.  Even though I was a nervous wreck and agonizing over the right words I wanted the conversation to feel casual.  I started off by asking them if they ever felt sad or nervous. They all responded that they did and gave very typical examples. After talking about all their responses I asked them if they every felt sad or worried but couldn't figure out why. I explained that Mama's brain was mixed up and sometimes I got sad or worried for no reason. One of the boys jumped in with his experience with anxiety and helped me talk about ways we can help those confusing feelings go away.  I quickly touched on how other people in our family had these feelings too so to not be surprised or scared if they experienced them. It was a very quick and light discussion. 

The last thing I want to do is plant negative or scary ideas in my children. My intent was to start creating an environment/culture where discussing struggles and feelings is normal. I want anxiety and depression to have names.  I want them to develop an awareness of the signs and to feel confident about reaching out if needed. I want to help them avoid my years of struggle. Hopefully we're off to a good start.

May and June

 

It's the last day in June and I've not updated the blog since the beginning of May.  I've written about 4 posts over and over in my head and never taken the time to sit down and write.   I can tell.  I use writing to process and reflect.  When I'm not taking the time to distance myself and really think about where I am and how things are going my days run together and my attitude suffers.  I don't notice the little things that typically make me smile and I get bogged down in diapers and laundry.  The kids seem louder and messes bother me more.  My new goal is to devote one evening a week to the blog.

Here's what we've been up to:

Rhodes had his first black eye

We went to The Thinkery with our cousins

Laurel's been climbing

Will won a Principal's award

Swimming!!!

We celebrated Frank's birthday

We went to the Williamson County Aggie Fish Fry

Will and Grant went to Invention Camp. G's final project was this maze

We've had LOOOOOOOTS of snow cones

We explored the Texas History Museum

Laurel had Princess Leia hair for the first time

 

Rhodes suddenly looks like a little boy instead of a baby