I havent blogged in a few days. Well, Ok I have blogged several times but not posted. In fact I have a few posts hiding out in my draft folder, hiding or hanging out, I am not really sure how to classify them actually. They were written over the last few days at different ranges of emotion. One written in anger, one written to justify; all written to make me feel better after receiving some criticism, insult, or slight. I didnt think they would be beneficial or professional so I didnt end up posting them. But I cant bring myself to delete them. Am I keeping them in my arsenal for future defense? Am I keeping them as a reminder to myself, as a silent victory of words and justification.
Don't we all have those moments when someone says something to hurt us and we go over in our heads all the things we would like to say in return, in defense, in justification, or in anger? I am noticing with myself that I am having a hard time getting back into the vulnerabilty of this blog. I am safeguarding myself because others voices and opinions can be so loud, so LOUD!
Ever get caught up in something someone else said or thought about you? It is great if it is a positive compliment. You can relish and enjoy it. But when it is critical, detrimental, unexpected hurt, wow it stings! And no matter what someone else's opinion is of you, you cannot get drawn in too much that you lose your own perspective. I almost did. I almost let others who had not walked out my life and my journey condemn and criticize me to the point that I questioned everything, even my mental health and my faith, my personal relationship with God, with my self, with my children.
And so today I feel hesitant, unsteady, like the first time I went off the high dive at the Sistersville Pool. Do I pick up again and share where I am at in the reality of my own life? The days that are hard and challenging and even sad adjusting to this new chapter in my life; do I write about them? Or do I keep them quiet and bottled up so others dont judge me or pity me or caterogize me? Do I pretend to be who I am not so others are comfy? Now I am all about comfy, I would live in tshrits and jeans if I could, but not everything can be sacrificed for comfort. I write and I share because it is truth. My life right now is hard and challenging and peppered with sadness and disappointment. My life isnt normal, one of my children is not typical,none are actually, they are all spectacular. But in the sense of the word typical, like other babies, no that is not my little man. And so I adjust, and I realize that others struggle with this adjustment time and have opinions about this adjustment. While I appreciate concern I do not appreciate criticism. I do not believe fully in "constructive criticism," I think perspective is vital. Vital! I also rebel against those who would wish to rescue or save me. I do not need rescued. I have a rescuer and he is Jesus. I need no one else to come and save me, change me, make me feel better.
Still struggling to go off that high dive. I think when I was a child, I climbed those ladder steps several times before I was brave enough to jump. I also remember I was not willing to jump unless the lifeguard and my father were standing ready to jump in and save me should something go wrong.
I am not sure I have a point today. I think I am just attempting to climb the ladder steps again.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
thoughts from a dream
I had a dream last night that I was pregnant with a baby girl, I was due any day. In fact in the dream I was arriving at a friend's house for a gathering and feeling panicky about going into labor. In the dream I also found two of my sister's lost/stolen cell phones and was overjoyed because it meant I could contact her to come when I had the baby. I awoke this morning feeling so melancholy, the pregnant expectation and anticipation of the dream was no longer with me. I felt a little of a letdown, a sadness I have a hard time describing.
I am not one to remember most dreams nor am I one to spend too much time interepting them. I love symbolism, one of my favorite aspects of literature classes as a high school and college student. But I dont have the self-analyzation tendency when it comes to my dreams. Mostly because when I awake I am usually running late and need to jump right out of bed.
I am not planning on spending too much time on this dream because I took pain meds last night. I also spoke with a friend about my upcoming surgery and about menopause yesterday. On Saturday I talked with a few friends about how I struggle internally when I see hugely pregnant women. Noticing them is a reminder of how I never experienced hugely pregnant with Caleb. My body didnt make it there. There is a sense of letting go of all the excitement and anticipation of his birth. I let that go at 28 weeks when they said he must come now. I quit dreaming of who he would look like and what it would be like to hold him and greet him. I began worrying if it he would live, would I live, how much of the doctor statistics would fit his life? Seeing the hugely adorably pregnant lady is also a reminder of how quickly my baby dreams were changed, shattered almost. I didn't count his fingers and toes, I watched his tiny chest breathe in and out with machines. I didnt spend the first few months watching him grow big and chubby; I spent it watching him move from one health crisis to another. I didnt spend the first year of his life in awe of his baby moments, I spent it worrying about what now and what next? But I digress a little, you have all heard this before; my feelings of disappointment and injustice for all Caleb and I have struggled through have been discussed and shared many times. I share because I think it was part of why I had the dream last night. These feelings were all on my mind.
Crave and I only wanted four children. Yes, we wanted four children! We were prepared to stop at four, even before I had any complications. After having Caleb I realized it would not be safe or fair for me to have another baby even if I wanted to in a few years. I personally love being a mother. I love the chaos of a few children. I could "handle" more children with delight. I do not like the mess or the money of a large household but I love the rest of it. I struggle with finding time and the proper emotion for each child right now but I believe it will ease as Caleb grows. Caleb's therapies and dr. appts keep me busy and often his needs occupy my time. I struggle to not be too tired or stressed to meet the needs of the girls, who can be demanding, they are redhead girls a lot like their mother. What I am alluding to is that I am completely at peace with having a family of six. I do not desire to have more children.
But the prospect of surgically removing that possiblity from my body creates all sorts of pain in my heart. Of course I worry about the medical aspect of the surgery and all that entails. I worry about healing and how I will care for my kids. How will they react when Mommy isn't able to meet there needs and once again Grandma has to step in? Not that Grandma isnt wonderful because she is but it is the feeling of uncertainty that upsets my girls. I worry about more scarring and I worry about setbacks for Caleb if we have to take time off from his therapies. But I despair about the removal of my womb. I am saddened that part of my life is coming to an end not naturally but with a scalpel, with cutting. Being a mother is a huge part of my identity, a part I treasure and wear with honor. What will it be like to cut out one part of me linked to that?
I worry about early menopause and the need for hormones or natural supplements. Am I really going to have to concern myself with these things in my mid-thirties? That feeling of anticipation and excitment I felt in the dream, I want that back. I feel like I have not experienced it in so long, that maybe I never will again. I have felt anticpation over things like Christmas morning or trips to see friends. But the longing and the expecting for things that will change your life positively, where is that, will I feel it again. Did it begin, this feeling of loss, the first time my womb was cut? Will this final cut change things?
All this from a dream, from a feeling upon waking up from a dream. Should I blame the pain meds or maybe just the fact that it is Monday morning and those are always rough? Maybe my sister should quit losing her cell phone so I can talk to her about all this!
I am not one to remember most dreams nor am I one to spend too much time interepting them. I love symbolism, one of my favorite aspects of literature classes as a high school and college student. But I dont have the self-analyzation tendency when it comes to my dreams. Mostly because when I awake I am usually running late and need to jump right out of bed.
I am not planning on spending too much time on this dream because I took pain meds last night. I also spoke with a friend about my upcoming surgery and about menopause yesterday. On Saturday I talked with a few friends about how I struggle internally when I see hugely pregnant women. Noticing them is a reminder of how I never experienced hugely pregnant with Caleb. My body didnt make it there. There is a sense of letting go of all the excitement and anticipation of his birth. I let that go at 28 weeks when they said he must come now. I quit dreaming of who he would look like and what it would be like to hold him and greet him. I began worrying if it he would live, would I live, how much of the doctor statistics would fit his life? Seeing the hugely adorably pregnant lady is also a reminder of how quickly my baby dreams were changed, shattered almost. I didn't count his fingers and toes, I watched his tiny chest breathe in and out with machines. I didnt spend the first few months watching him grow big and chubby; I spent it watching him move from one health crisis to another. I didnt spend the first year of his life in awe of his baby moments, I spent it worrying about what now and what next? But I digress a little, you have all heard this before; my feelings of disappointment and injustice for all Caleb and I have struggled through have been discussed and shared many times. I share because I think it was part of why I had the dream last night. These feelings were all on my mind.
Crave and I only wanted four children. Yes, we wanted four children! We were prepared to stop at four, even before I had any complications. After having Caleb I realized it would not be safe or fair for me to have another baby even if I wanted to in a few years. I personally love being a mother. I love the chaos of a few children. I could "handle" more children with delight. I do not like the mess or the money of a large household but I love the rest of it. I struggle with finding time and the proper emotion for each child right now but I believe it will ease as Caleb grows. Caleb's therapies and dr. appts keep me busy and often his needs occupy my time. I struggle to not be too tired or stressed to meet the needs of the girls, who can be demanding, they are redhead girls a lot like their mother. What I am alluding to is that I am completely at peace with having a family of six. I do not desire to have more children.
But the prospect of surgically removing that possiblity from my body creates all sorts of pain in my heart. Of course I worry about the medical aspect of the surgery and all that entails. I worry about healing and how I will care for my kids. How will they react when Mommy isn't able to meet there needs and once again Grandma has to step in? Not that Grandma isnt wonderful because she is but it is the feeling of uncertainty that upsets my girls. I worry about more scarring and I worry about setbacks for Caleb if we have to take time off from his therapies. But I despair about the removal of my womb. I am saddened that part of my life is coming to an end not naturally but with a scalpel, with cutting. Being a mother is a huge part of my identity, a part I treasure and wear with honor. What will it be like to cut out one part of me linked to that?
I worry about early menopause and the need for hormones or natural supplements. Am I really going to have to concern myself with these things in my mid-thirties? That feeling of anticipation and excitment I felt in the dream, I want that back. I feel like I have not experienced it in so long, that maybe I never will again. I have felt anticpation over things like Christmas morning or trips to see friends. But the longing and the expecting for things that will change your life positively, where is that, will I feel it again. Did it begin, this feeling of loss, the first time my womb was cut? Will this final cut change things?
All this from a dream, from a feeling upon waking up from a dream. Should I blame the pain meds or maybe just the fact that it is Monday morning and those are always rough? Maybe my sister should quit losing her cell phone so I can talk to her about all this!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
comparison
Little man has a home visit here in a little bit, I should probably be waking him. I decided to let him sleep as long as possible because he is always so very tired after and cranky. I can't deal with cranky today, I have too much to do! I am realizing I havent made any progress updates lately, nor have I shared his test results. I will today.
He is so my delight and and that makes the busyness of life with him easier. I have been overwhelmed with his therapies and appointments and managing all of that while trying to also keep up with the girls and Jason and finding time for myself. Christmas break was a wonderful resting time as far as all of our running. The snow added an extra week of rest. But we are back into a routine of therapies and appts. and nurse consults and I am accepting that this is my normal. I am attempting to move out of survival mode with my mothering. For the last two years Caleb's medical issues have dominated our family life. I have had to make hard choices about whose needs are more pressing. I feel hopeful and confident that we can move out of this thought process, this adrenaline type of parenting. I have been to the ER five times this winter with two of my children. Five freaking times and I hate hospitals! I have been resentful and over it, over the hard times, the stressful times. The chip on my shoulder has been growing and so I am attempting to deal with it.
I was at the pediatrician the other day with my oldest and youngest for well child check-ups. We sat in the waiting room with more than a few babies and toddlers, some older, some a little younger than Caleb. All were doing much more than Caleb, walking, playing, speaking, babbling. Caleb sat on his sister's lap and just stared at her. I was actually feeling spiteful and competitve, which is not me as a mother! I remember thinking "well your kid may be younger and walking and babbling, but my little boy is way cuter and much more easygoing. Way cuter." and then I cringed and said wow Chris, you need some freaking sleep and an attitude adjustment. Stop whining about what you don't have, stop looking at others' situations and deal with your own.
I know to some degree most mothers compare their children to other children,whether it be other children the same age as their child, or to a sibling. I think we compare when we are looking for accolades or praise; my child is smarter, more athletic, kinder, more beautiful, more unique. We compare to fill our pride, feed our ego. Or we compare when we are looking for advice or instruction. I am hoping to move past the comparison of situations and children because it is not helping me. It is only making me feel less normal, less peaceful, more envious and not centered. I have been wondering and asking what I could still have to learn. As if all of this is just some big life lesson or test of faith. It isnt, it is just life. Realizing that now or at least feeling that in this moment.
I was driving in the parking lot of the hospital the other day after check-ups and I wondered if parking lots will always give me anxiety? Are they forever linked to memories of crisis with Caleb? Is this my new normal and how do I embrace it? Do I need to embrace it or just get through it? I want to know how long, how much. How long will this running to and from doctor and therapy appointments last? How much more to worry about and walk through? Is it ok that I am fed up, frustrated, envious? Is it ok that my faith is being put aside, not thrown away, but casually set on a shelf. If I am honest with myself that is true even though I know it isnt right. There are days when my situation is more real than my faith, or my trust. Not every day but days on end when I wander where He is and why is He allowing more than I can handle. And No, I do not belive God doesnt ever give us more than we can handle. That isnt true. He doenst ever give us more than we can handle with and through him but we arent supposed to walk anything out alone. But that is how I have felt, alone, misunderstood, forgotten or overlooked.
He is so my delight and and that makes the busyness of life with him easier. I have been overwhelmed with his therapies and appointments and managing all of that while trying to also keep up with the girls and Jason and finding time for myself. Christmas break was a wonderful resting time as far as all of our running. The snow added an extra week of rest. But we are back into a routine of therapies and appts. and nurse consults and I am accepting that this is my normal. I am attempting to move out of survival mode with my mothering. For the last two years Caleb's medical issues have dominated our family life. I have had to make hard choices about whose needs are more pressing. I feel hopeful and confident that we can move out of this thought process, this adrenaline type of parenting. I have been to the ER five times this winter with two of my children. Five freaking times and I hate hospitals! I have been resentful and over it, over the hard times, the stressful times. The chip on my shoulder has been growing and so I am attempting to deal with it.
I was at the pediatrician the other day with my oldest and youngest for well child check-ups. We sat in the waiting room with more than a few babies and toddlers, some older, some a little younger than Caleb. All were doing much more than Caleb, walking, playing, speaking, babbling. Caleb sat on his sister's lap and just stared at her. I was actually feeling spiteful and competitve, which is not me as a mother! I remember thinking "well your kid may be younger and walking and babbling, but my little boy is way cuter and much more easygoing. Way cuter." and then I cringed and said wow Chris, you need some freaking sleep and an attitude adjustment. Stop whining about what you don't have, stop looking at others' situations and deal with your own.
I know to some degree most mothers compare their children to other children,whether it be other children the same age as their child, or to a sibling. I think we compare when we are looking for accolades or praise; my child is smarter, more athletic, kinder, more beautiful, more unique. We compare to fill our pride, feed our ego. Or we compare when we are looking for advice or instruction. I am hoping to move past the comparison of situations and children because it is not helping me. It is only making me feel less normal, less peaceful, more envious and not centered. I have been wondering and asking what I could still have to learn. As if all of this is just some big life lesson or test of faith. It isnt, it is just life. Realizing that now or at least feeling that in this moment.
I was driving in the parking lot of the hospital the other day after check-ups and I wondered if parking lots will always give me anxiety? Are they forever linked to memories of crisis with Caleb? Is this my new normal and how do I embrace it? Do I need to embrace it or just get through it? I want to know how long, how much. How long will this running to and from doctor and therapy appointments last? How much more to worry about and walk through? Is it ok that I am fed up, frustrated, envious? Is it ok that my faith is being put aside, not thrown away, but casually set on a shelf. If I am honest with myself that is true even though I know it isnt right. There are days when my situation is more real than my faith, or my trust. Not every day but days on end when I wander where He is and why is He allowing more than I can handle. And No, I do not belive God doesnt ever give us more than we can handle. That isnt true. He doenst ever give us more than we can handle with and through him but we arent supposed to walk anything out alone. But that is how I have felt, alone, misunderstood, forgotten or overlooked.
I know I havent shared with everyone everything, there is a good reason. I was protecting myself and my family. We have been waiting since Dec. 4th for results of tests on Caleb. The results have slowly trickled in over the last month and a half. I was on edge, in fear, sick of waiting and wandering, feeling guilty and traitorish for every comparsion or admission of Caleb's development that I made. Knowing something is wrong but not what or why, it is hard. We have received all of these test results and they came back fine. I was so happy and relieved. And then the neuro called and once again we wait. Another test scheduled, more medical decisions to make. And news to share with people who arent always who I would want them to be for me. The doctor believes Caleb has some life long mental and developmental disabilities. The test will show more clearly the extent and the course of treatment. And so that hangs in the air. But I look at my little boy and I see the progress and the growth he has made. I can say he isnt like other babies his age or even months younger. He doesnt play or communicate like they do. He is doing so much more this month than two months ago though. He isnt like other babies, even my girls as babies. But I can say, this little boy fills my world with delight and joy like no one else on earth. He continues to amaze me with his tenacity and with his peace. He works harder than any other baby I know and he doesnt back down. So I wait and I try very hard to just be his mom and the girls mom and let the rest happen.
Monday, January 18, 2010
stuck
feeling stuck today. in my writing mostly. i have this unexplainable need to write to sort out my feelings. It's like writing becomes my new best friend. Or the girlhood friend you call at the end of the school day, minutes after returning home, to discuss the events of the day. I did that and remember my parents wondering what I could possibly have to say when I just saw my friend mintues ago. I now watch my oldest daughter do this, reach for the phone mintues after walking in the door and giving me a hug and I get it. The need to discuss, reevaluate, gain a different perspective or just relive the moments of the day. I am simplifiying a little of course but my writing is like this. A need to see things on paper, a need to sort through feelings and events. A need for perspective, sometimes a need to record moments and feelings so as not to forget.
Right now CC is reading a book, Chinese Cinderella, a book I of course read quickly before giving it to her. I wanted to make sure the content was ok, wounldn't give her nightmares or teach her things she didnt need to know yet. I also read it because I love books and I love sharing the experience with each of my girls. So I have read it, I know the details of what happens and when. CC is driving me mad with questions. She wants to know before she reads, before she invests too much, how is it going to end? Is it going to be too sad that it haunts me after, is it going to keep me up with worry or fear? CC is like this with most books or movies she dives into. Part of it is the organizer and preparer in her, she likes to be ready for any situation that comes along. I think part of it is a need to know that the emotions wont be too much, too overwhelming. And it is wanting to know into the future, the what-ifs and if-nots. How much do you invest in what you cannot see, cannot change or can you change it? She is struggling with it in her reading, I am struggling with it in my life.
And so I am stuck, not wanting to pick up the pen and write, well the keyboard, crappy as it is; not wanting to "call the girlfriend and chat," because at times it all seems a little much. I miss the light, breezy kind of conversations. All of my conversations or thoughts seem to be heavy right now. Unknown fears or questions about Caleb, frustrations over past issues that affect the now, resentment because life isn't easy or what I expected or dreamed it to be. So I am stuck. not ready to put those thought out there yet. Wishing like CC that I could know before I invest if it is worth it, if it will matter as much later as it seems to now, wishing to know the future.
And then of course there is the wandering, does this make sense to anyone else? I know I am unusual, quirky, not everyone gets me. Do people read this and wander what the heck is this chic talking about. Do I think too much, shouldnt I just live and quit thinking, worrying, processing, picking things over? Does anyone even read this? It wouldnt matter if they didnt. I still love the process, the ability to express myself, share myself. At least if it is on paper or screen, it isnt rolling around in my head anymore!
Right now I am not ready to deal with the heavy thoughts or fears so I will try the record-keeping aspect of my writing. The "let me relive part" of girfriend sharing, it is fun, important, lasting. Maybe later I will be unstuck in the other areas or it will be easier to face them.
Right now CC is reading a book, Chinese Cinderella, a book I of course read quickly before giving it to her. I wanted to make sure the content was ok, wounldn't give her nightmares or teach her things she didnt need to know yet. I also read it because I love books and I love sharing the experience with each of my girls. So I have read it, I know the details of what happens and when. CC is driving me mad with questions. She wants to know before she reads, before she invests too much, how is it going to end? Is it going to be too sad that it haunts me after, is it going to keep me up with worry or fear? CC is like this with most books or movies she dives into. Part of it is the organizer and preparer in her, she likes to be ready for any situation that comes along. I think part of it is a need to know that the emotions wont be too much, too overwhelming. And it is wanting to know into the future, the what-ifs and if-nots. How much do you invest in what you cannot see, cannot change or can you change it? She is struggling with it in her reading, I am struggling with it in my life.
And so I am stuck, not wanting to pick up the pen and write, well the keyboard, crappy as it is; not wanting to "call the girlfriend and chat," because at times it all seems a little much. I miss the light, breezy kind of conversations. All of my conversations or thoughts seem to be heavy right now. Unknown fears or questions about Caleb, frustrations over past issues that affect the now, resentment because life isn't easy or what I expected or dreamed it to be. So I am stuck. not ready to put those thought out there yet. Wishing like CC that I could know before I invest if it is worth it, if it will matter as much later as it seems to now, wishing to know the future.
And then of course there is the wandering, does this make sense to anyone else? I know I am unusual, quirky, not everyone gets me. Do people read this and wander what the heck is this chic talking about. Do I think too much, shouldnt I just live and quit thinking, worrying, processing, picking things over? Does anyone even read this? It wouldnt matter if they didnt. I still love the process, the ability to express myself, share myself. At least if it is on paper or screen, it isnt rolling around in my head anymore!
Right now I am not ready to deal with the heavy thoughts or fears so I will try the record-keeping aspect of my writing. The "let me relive part" of girfriend sharing, it is fun, important, lasting. Maybe later I will be unstuck in the other areas or it will be easier to face them.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
2010
My New Year's goal was to blog more, to write more and not just venting and whining but writing and documenting and really diving in to my blog and begining to craft my writing better. And do you know everytime I have started to blog this past week since I made my new year's goal a declartion, my keboard has acted up. Everytime, midsentence, mid-paragraph, mid-thought, my keyboard has went on strike or acted out. I find this hilarious, humourous, ironic. And I say to my keyboard, "Bring it!"
Now before you start to trouble yourself with my sanity, I will admit that yes I know the keyboard is an inanimate object and not a real tormentor or foe. Nevertheless, I still say in all sincerity, "Bring it!" I am prepared to follow through on my writing, on my venting, on my documenting, on my "web-logging" of events, emotions, challenges, and lessons of life. So keyboard if you want to act up and short-circuit every time I have a moment or a grand idea or issue I need to type through, act up. I will replace you quickly with a new, shiny, fancy wireless keyboard and in the meantime I will pull out your old-fashioned but still usable replacement, my good old, dear diary. Some of you may know that I formerly documented life in this non-electronic diary until the day when my diary was taken captive and my words were held against me. Shocking I know but it happened and not by a little brother. My privacy was invaded and my trust was betrayed and for a while I did not write or I wrote and then destroyed. So keyboards act up and people can open a diary and read words not meant for them, a lesson I have learned. But I simply dont care. This year, at this time in my life, I have finally decided I am going to write no matter what; I have a voice, I have a life with details that need worked out, I have a story that can be shared, I have a faith that I will not walk out in quiet or in shame. So pen and paper, new keyboard, or jaded, gunk filled nememsis keyboard now in my position,get ready because life that is messy and hard and sometimes sad, sometimes funny, but always beautiful in it's realness, I will write.
I have received lovely comments from friends, family and strangers on my blog postings. I have received criticism and unwanted advice and even some interesting career encouragement and advice from others. I am thankful for the chance to share my life and my musings about my life with others. I am so thankful I can be real and be me and so 2010, I havent fully embraced you but I will document you. In fact 2010 you fill me with fear for what you may bring medically and emotionally to my life. You also make me realize the wall I have put up around my faith and my relationship with God. I will deal with that wall this year. I am not sure if I will scale it or demolish it, or maybe I will remove it block by block. I start 2010 with a keyboard that is jacked up, a van that needs expensive repairs, payment arrangements for medical bills, the need for a major surgery, and the waiting for test results for my sweet little boy. I start 2010 with snowstorms and delays of school and therapy and new hard treatment options for Caleb. Life feels like it is on hold but I was just reminded yesterday it doesnt stop for anyone. Life goes on everyday and all around me and so ok I will face and document it. I may be uneasy or nervous or grouchy but 2010, I am ready for you. so bring it.
Now before you start to trouble yourself with my sanity, I will admit that yes I know the keyboard is an inanimate object and not a real tormentor or foe. Nevertheless, I still say in all sincerity, "Bring it!" I am prepared to follow through on my writing, on my venting, on my documenting, on my "web-logging" of events, emotions, challenges, and lessons of life. So keyboard if you want to act up and short-circuit every time I have a moment or a grand idea or issue I need to type through, act up. I will replace you quickly with a new, shiny, fancy wireless keyboard and in the meantime I will pull out your old-fashioned but still usable replacement, my good old, dear diary. Some of you may know that I formerly documented life in this non-electronic diary until the day when my diary was taken captive and my words were held against me. Shocking I know but it happened and not by a little brother. My privacy was invaded and my trust was betrayed and for a while I did not write or I wrote and then destroyed. So keyboards act up and people can open a diary and read words not meant for them, a lesson I have learned. But I simply dont care. This year, at this time in my life, I have finally decided I am going to write no matter what; I have a voice, I have a life with details that need worked out, I have a story that can be shared, I have a faith that I will not walk out in quiet or in shame. So pen and paper, new keyboard, or jaded, gunk filled nememsis keyboard now in my position,get ready because life that is messy and hard and sometimes sad, sometimes funny, but always beautiful in it's realness, I will write.
I have received lovely comments from friends, family and strangers on my blog postings. I have received criticism and unwanted advice and even some interesting career encouragement and advice from others. I am thankful for the chance to share my life and my musings about my life with others. I am so thankful I can be real and be me and so 2010, I havent fully embraced you but I will document you. In fact 2010 you fill me with fear for what you may bring medically and emotionally to my life. You also make me realize the wall I have put up around my faith and my relationship with God. I will deal with that wall this year. I am not sure if I will scale it or demolish it, or maybe I will remove it block by block. I start 2010 with a keyboard that is jacked up, a van that needs expensive repairs, payment arrangements for medical bills, the need for a major surgery, and the waiting for test results for my sweet little boy. I start 2010 with snowstorms and delays of school and therapy and new hard treatment options for Caleb. Life feels like it is on hold but I was just reminded yesterday it doesnt stop for anyone. Life goes on everyday and all around me and so ok I will face and document it. I may be uneasy or nervous or grouchy but 2010, I am ready for you. so bring it.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
a week in review
My week in review:
Sunday: miss church spend day in bed with stomach virus, well partially in bed and partially caring for vomitting eldest daughter, sick husband, and baby with respitary infection.
Monday: Feeling better, spend day doing laundry and finishing last minute shopping for my family Christmas/NYE celebration (leaving Wed. morning)
Tuesday: go to doctor, find out I need a hysterectomy. Spend day in shock and disbelief and sadness. also try to pack for trip and not let on that anything is wrong to kids. fail miserably, overpack and spend day tearfilled and anxious
Wednesday: Spend morning at hubby's office with kids feeling intrusive and unprofessional. well until I realize someone else brought a puppy to office, so we arent the only inturders. head to Columbus and spend evening with siblings, parents, kids. bake cake for Vanny, spend time with Cowboy Jason, Caleb learns to wave, spend day waving to Caleb attempting to get him to repeat waving. Cry happy tears and have so much fun. Play pictionary with kids, hilarious.
Thursday: more time with family, husband joins the party, celebrate NYE, start new medications that suck. conceal meds from worry-prone kids,attempt to keep kids entertained upstairs so grownups can hang out downstairs, fail miserably, spend most of NYE avoiding football and chatting with Mar, go to bed promptly at 12:02 am.
Friday: play WVu-opoly, lose, watch WVu bowl game- we lose, take brother to airport, comfort children, watch Rose Bowl, find myself surprisingly rooting for the Bucks, Bucks win and then I feel icky and pissy. Find myself upset and ready to take on anyone who wants to trashtalk my Mountaineers, Most of family heads home. Vanny and I stay one more night at my sister's. Watch graphic violent movies,(not with Vanny) go to bed late.
Sat: sleep in and enjoy the sounds of Vanny and my neice playing so well together, ready to go home, spend morning watching useless, wasteful reality tv and not able to turn channel from the Jersey Shores, watch with Mar instead of doing anything useful, like preparing to drive home, head home early afternoon, receive a half a cow from my farmer father and the information that my husband has hid a cow's tongue wrapped up somewhere in my freezer, vow to serve it to him when I find it, spend evening playing Trivial Pursuit and drinking Pina Coladas with girlfriends. Find out I rock in literature catergory but not entertainment. This angers me. We lose. whatever. Find out a boy called my oldest daughter to "talk" , still in disbelief over this newest development. She didnt want to talk, so tickled about this one.
Sunday: wake up feeling like I have been stabbed in the stomach, in a half-awake state think it must be a dream, attempt to get out of bed and feel the searing pain, cry for painpills, take pills, prepare for church, teach Sunday school lesson, actually turns out fun for all of us, care for a fussy baby, spend rest of day in bed watching movies and feeling pain and disbelief, begin to explain to oldest daughter why I need medicine all of the sudden, change subject because she is my most worrisome child and I dont want her to worry, spend time talking about boys, dating, character, oh I am so not ready for all of this. When did my sweet, little curly haired toddler turn into a beautiful adolescent girl with boys calling? Spend day in disbelief and anger that this pain is happening to me. The pain feels almost as bad as when I first awoke from surgery. schedule some therapy sessions (emotional therapy for me) because I realize I will need them about the same time I realize that this is reality. damn. watch Julia movie, love it, husband takes care of kids, goes to store, cooks lunch and dinner, and does laundry. I feel blessed but guilty that he has to take on so much. aggravated once again that I feel helpless.
Spend time blogging with a keyboard that is acting crazy tonight. feel jittery, cant sleep. Hope this next week is better than last week.
also eat an insane amount of reece cups, they do help you know.
Sunday: miss church spend day in bed with stomach virus, well partially in bed and partially caring for vomitting eldest daughter, sick husband, and baby with respitary infection.
Monday: Feeling better, spend day doing laundry and finishing last minute shopping for my family Christmas/NYE celebration (leaving Wed. morning)
Tuesday: go to doctor, find out I need a hysterectomy. Spend day in shock and disbelief and sadness. also try to pack for trip and not let on that anything is wrong to kids. fail miserably, overpack and spend day tearfilled and anxious
Wednesday: Spend morning at hubby's office with kids feeling intrusive and unprofessional. well until I realize someone else brought a puppy to office, so we arent the only inturders. head to Columbus and spend evening with siblings, parents, kids. bake cake for Vanny, spend time with Cowboy Jason, Caleb learns to wave, spend day waving to Caleb attempting to get him to repeat waving. Cry happy tears and have so much fun. Play pictionary with kids, hilarious.
Thursday: more time with family, husband joins the party, celebrate NYE, start new medications that suck. conceal meds from worry-prone kids,attempt to keep kids entertained upstairs so grownups can hang out downstairs, fail miserably, spend most of NYE avoiding football and chatting with Mar, go to bed promptly at 12:02 am.
Friday: play WVu-opoly, lose, watch WVu bowl game- we lose, take brother to airport, comfort children, watch Rose Bowl, find myself surprisingly rooting for the Bucks, Bucks win and then I feel icky and pissy. Find myself upset and ready to take on anyone who wants to trashtalk my Mountaineers, Most of family heads home. Vanny and I stay one more night at my sister's. Watch graphic violent movies,(not with Vanny) go to bed late.
Sat: sleep in and enjoy the sounds of Vanny and my neice playing so well together, ready to go home, spend morning watching useless, wasteful reality tv and not able to turn channel from the Jersey Shores, watch with Mar instead of doing anything useful, like preparing to drive home, head home early afternoon, receive a half a cow from my farmer father and the information that my husband has hid a cow's tongue wrapped up somewhere in my freezer, vow to serve it to him when I find it, spend evening playing Trivial Pursuit and drinking Pina Coladas with girlfriends. Find out I rock in literature catergory but not entertainment. This angers me. We lose. whatever. Find out a boy called my oldest daughter to "talk" , still in disbelief over this newest development. She didnt want to talk, so tickled about this one.
Sunday: wake up feeling like I have been stabbed in the stomach, in a half-awake state think it must be a dream, attempt to get out of bed and feel the searing pain, cry for painpills, take pills, prepare for church, teach Sunday school lesson, actually turns out fun for all of us, care for a fussy baby, spend rest of day in bed watching movies and feeling pain and disbelief, begin to explain to oldest daughter why I need medicine all of the sudden, change subject because she is my most worrisome child and I dont want her to worry, spend time talking about boys, dating, character, oh I am so not ready for all of this. When did my sweet, little curly haired toddler turn into a beautiful adolescent girl with boys calling? Spend day in disbelief and anger that this pain is happening to me. The pain feels almost as bad as when I first awoke from surgery. schedule some therapy sessions (emotional therapy for me) because I realize I will need them about the same time I realize that this is reality. damn. watch Julia movie, love it, husband takes care of kids, goes to store, cooks lunch and dinner, and does laundry. I feel blessed but guilty that he has to take on so much. aggravated once again that I feel helpless.
Spend time blogging with a keyboard that is acting crazy tonight. feel jittery, cant sleep. Hope this next week is better than last week.
also eat an insane amount of reece cups, they do help you know.
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