As I talk with friends who home-school 'typical' kids, I've come to realize some interesting things. Our days are vastly different. I cannot fathom their days nor them mine. But I found a new friend who has a son who is incredibly similar to John. And hearing her talk about her struggle and what the day looks like for them made me laugh and tear up with joy. Because I'm not alone.
And I thought I was.
It was then I realized I didn't know any of this stuff about home-school and special needs kids before I became a mom that home-schools a kid with special needs. Homeschooling a special needs child was some vague notion about a mom with a child with Down's Syndrome or Cerebral Palsy. Certainly not me. Oh, how God laughed. There are so.so.many things I didn't anticipate or even give a thought to in regards to home-school and a special needs child.
What I did not anticipate was a child that was so needy I'd cry with anger and sympathy for myself and empathy for him. I did not anticipate needing Sensory Breaks in the swing, on the trampoline, in the tent or BodySox. Those breaks eat into our day. And while I *know* that he does so much better when he takes those breaks, it doesn't mean that I have stopped watching the clock and trying to guess when we'll be done. I did not anticipate having to work one on one so much with him that I then worry and feel massive guilt about the time I miss with the girls.
I also never anticipated the sheer amount of guilt I'd harbor. That it would make me scream. That it would make me stand in the shower and sob.
Homeschooling a child with special needs means I wash the same set of clothing and pajama's every.single.day for 8 months. And when the weather turned cold yesterday I started to sweat and stutter as I tried to casually suggest he wear pants instead of the same pair of shorts he's worn since April.
It means that I get pissed at him every day. Every day. I get angry that he has these needs. Why can't he just wear clothes? Why does he have to swing before, during and after math, science and reading?(Hello Sensory Processing Disorder.) Why can't he just do.his.work. Stop bargaining. Stay at the table. STOP TALKING OH MY LORD JUST STOP TALKING. (Hello ADHD) Why is he asking about lunch/dinner/if I'll wash his clothes/are his pajamas clean? AGAIN. (Hello anxiety.) Why can't I simply read his journal? He truly worked hard on it and now I can read only about half of what he's written. (Hello Dyslexia). And after I've gotten angry at him? I get angry at myself because what kind of monster of a mother gets that upset with her child who cannot help feeling/doing/saying any of things??
ME.I do all that.
Homeschooling a child with special needs has made me needy, lack confidence in all areas of my life and crave acceptance. I want my husband to systematically acknowledge all the things I've throughout the day; from school to house work and dinner. I've gained 15 pounds and need to be affirmed every day that I still look OK. I need every person I know to be completely accepting of my son, what we are doing and all of my choices. I hope fervently that I hear, "Excellent! You're doing such an incredible job! I know this is hard, but you are working on this and it's getting better. I'm so proud/impressed/in awe of you," every time I tell someone about a new therapy we are trying, a change I've seen, if I'm considering or not considering medicine, that essential oils are starting to sound less crazy to me or that I've decided to live on a farm in Greenland because I heard that might help.
And yet.
I do love this. Somehow, amidst all this craziness, all this chaos and all these tears, I see that this is what we're supposed to be doing right now. For unknown reasons (well, to me. God certainly knows), this is what our life is meant to be. At the end of each day I am spent. Emotionally, physically and mentally I'm useless. But if I look back on the day I can see glimpses of what we're fighting for. I see John completing 2 pages of math, accurately, in 10 minutes. I see him taking a Sensory Break when he needs it, not when I demand it. I see Violet grabbing John and squeezing him tight to relax him, then reading his history to him. I see Sarah asking him to play a math game and the two of them having a blast. These are small moments, but I cherish and cling to them as the day ends and I start to worry about the next day.
Nobody told me this stuff. (And there is so much more.) But even if somebody had told me?
We'd still be right here, doing this.
Showing posts with label happiness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label happiness. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Monday, January 13, 2014
Homeschooling Is Like Having An Infant
Really. It's like having a four week old needy, crying, pooing, peeing, eating, sleeping, cooing, smiling, chubby rolls, sweet baby feet and that precious new born smell baby.
When we were thinking about doing this whole home school gig I talked to over a dozen people who home school. I asked questions about expectations, work load, schedules, doubts, achievements. I asked about 'me time,' grocery shopping, chores, play dates and date nights. During all of that, I never once asked about the feeling of home school. What would my emotional state be like at the end of the day? I never thought about it. I mean, I knew it would be emotional in the sense that we would struggle with the suddenness of being together all the time and feel frustrated, even angry, but I never thought about emotion outside of that.
Then one day, as I stood in the middle of the school room looking around at the chaos, I realized that it all looked vaguely familiar. Clothes were strewn around the house, glasses of water sat on random surfaces, crusts and peels of lunch were scattered on the island. Dinner had been planned but was sitting in the freezer. I'd rubbed my eye-make off at some point, lost a slipper, was carrying a clean bath towel to fold in one hand and a cold cup of coffee in the other. It was five o'clock. Sarah walked in the room and without turning around I said, "You must go away. Must. You can't talk to me. For the love of all that is holy, do not touch me. When will your father be home? Is it bedtime?" She eyeballed me and left. It was at that moment that I realized: Home schooling is like having an infant.
Remember when your kids were infants? Your day went something like this: Get up. Nurse baby, shove food/coffee in your mouth. Change a diaper. Smile at sweetness. Nurse. Change a diaper. Rock crying baby. Remember laundry. Nurse baby. Change a diaper. Actually change laundry. Rock a crying baby. Put baby down for nap. Get dressed and remember laundry. Perhaps pull out food for dinner. Locate cold coffee. Get wet and hungry baby up from 'nap.' Change and nurse baby. Coo and smile over baby rolls and sweet cheeks. Nuzzle incredible baby smell. Ah. Change diaper and bathe baby. Nurse baby. Locate still cold coffee and shove food in mouth. Wander the house looking for shoe/pants/shirt/purse because you'd like to leave the house. Baby cries. Laugh at self. Husband gets home and you are wrecked. You hand off baby and run for cover. Crawl into bed. Husband reaches over for a cuddle. You punch and glare at him because DO NOT TOUCH ME. You are touched out. You can feel baby sleeping from the down the hall. You can hear the laundry rotting in the washer and wrinkling in the dryer. The dust bunnies are playing tag in the hall and mice are dining on the kitchen floor. You lie awake and listen to your house while planning what you will get done tomorrow.
Now substitute in: Feeding children. Allowing bathroom breaks. Refusing TV. Reminding children about chores. Violet helping John with his spelling without being asked. Forgetting your own chores. Snack time. Spilled paint. Not being able to find a city in Russia and getting lost in Google Maps Street View. Snack time. Laundry! Dinner - grilled cheese it is! Losing a broom. Repairing a vacuum, Snack time. Spontaneous science. Markers on the counter that aren't washable. Giggles and tag inside. Husband home. Glares at children because after 12 hours together they still want to touch you and talk to you. They still want to look at you, and STOP looking at me. I can feel your eyes on me. Into bed and listen to the house. And plan all the things you will get done tomorrow.
Deep breath.
And still.
For many of us we do all this - the infant part and the home school part - and then willingly chose to do it all over again. Because in the end it's worth it. It's worth all the lost sleep, the crazy house, the lost items. It's worth it because of the random smiles, the laughs, coos and sweetness. It's worth it because in the end we know that it's going to be incredible. And that is what keeps us going, me going, when I'm looking at a towel in one hand that I have no memory of picking up, my coffee is ice cold and I can't remember why I'm in that particular room, I can take a deep breath, (attempt) to relax and hold tight to knowledge that it is worth it.
When we were thinking about doing this whole home school gig I talked to over a dozen people who home school. I asked questions about expectations, work load, schedules, doubts, achievements. I asked about 'me time,' grocery shopping, chores, play dates and date nights. During all of that, I never once asked about the feeling of home school. What would my emotional state be like at the end of the day? I never thought about it. I mean, I knew it would be emotional in the sense that we would struggle with the suddenness of being together all the time and feel frustrated, even angry, but I never thought about emotion outside of that.
Then one day, as I stood in the middle of the school room looking around at the chaos, I realized that it all looked vaguely familiar. Clothes were strewn around the house, glasses of water sat on random surfaces, crusts and peels of lunch were scattered on the island. Dinner had been planned but was sitting in the freezer. I'd rubbed my eye-make off at some point, lost a slipper, was carrying a clean bath towel to fold in one hand and a cold cup of coffee in the other. It was five o'clock. Sarah walked in the room and without turning around I said, "You must go away. Must. You can't talk to me. For the love of all that is holy, do not touch me. When will your father be home? Is it bedtime?" She eyeballed me and left. It was at that moment that I realized: Home schooling is like having an infant.
Remember when your kids were infants? Your day went something like this: Get up. Nurse baby, shove food/coffee in your mouth. Change a diaper. Smile at sweetness. Nurse. Change a diaper. Rock crying baby. Remember laundry. Nurse baby. Change a diaper. Actually change laundry. Rock a crying baby. Put baby down for nap. Get dressed and remember laundry. Perhaps pull out food for dinner. Locate cold coffee. Get wet and hungry baby up from 'nap.' Change and nurse baby. Coo and smile over baby rolls and sweet cheeks. Nuzzle incredible baby smell. Ah. Change diaper and bathe baby. Nurse baby. Locate still cold coffee and shove food in mouth. Wander the house looking for shoe/pants/shirt/purse because you'd like to leave the house. Baby cries. Laugh at self. Husband gets home and you are wrecked. You hand off baby and run for cover. Crawl into bed. Husband reaches over for a cuddle. You punch and glare at him because DO NOT TOUCH ME. You are touched out. You can feel baby sleeping from the down the hall. You can hear the laundry rotting in the washer and wrinkling in the dryer. The dust bunnies are playing tag in the hall and mice are dining on the kitchen floor. You lie awake and listen to your house while planning what you will get done tomorrow.
Now substitute in: Feeding children. Allowing bathroom breaks. Refusing TV. Reminding children about chores. Violet helping John with his spelling without being asked. Forgetting your own chores. Snack time. Spilled paint. Not being able to find a city in Russia and getting lost in Google Maps Street View. Snack time. Laundry! Dinner - grilled cheese it is! Losing a broom. Repairing a vacuum, Snack time. Spontaneous science. Markers on the counter that aren't washable. Giggles and tag inside. Husband home. Glares at children because after 12 hours together they still want to touch you and talk to you. They still want to look at you, and STOP looking at me. I can feel your eyes on me. Into bed and listen to the house. And plan all the things you will get done tomorrow.
Deep breath.
And still.
For many of us we do all this - the infant part and the home school part - and then willingly chose to do it all over again. Because in the end it's worth it. It's worth all the lost sleep, the crazy house, the lost items. It's worth it because of the random smiles, the laughs, coos and sweetness. It's worth it because in the end we know that it's going to be incredible. And that is what keeps us going, me going, when I'm looking at a towel in one hand that I have no memory of picking up, my coffee is ice cold and I can't remember why I'm in that particular room, I can take a deep breath, (attempt) to relax and hold tight to knowledge that it is worth it.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
The Magic of Walt
We spent the week of Thanksgiving at Disney and it truly was magical in all Disney ways. We went to The Animal Kingdom and rode through the wilds of Africa. Sarah danced in a street show in Africa. We walked through the gardens of Asia. We went on the famous magic teacups. We braved Space Mountain. We went on Star Tours and Buzz Lightyears shoot 'em out game/ride. We met characters. We shopped in the ridiculously expensive Disney souvenir shops.
Of course.
And we also experienced our usual family antics along the way. Because, really, what vacation is complete without a few hang ups ? And a trip the ER. On the day we arrived.
Of course.
Let me explain . . .
We woke the kids up at 4 am on Saturday morning and said, " Get dressed because WE'RE GOING TO DISNEY!"
Violet stared at us blankly. John said, "I'm tired." Sarah's mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. Then the questions started: did I pack shorts? (pretty sure I had that covered) Swim suits? (even goggles) sneakers? (gee, I hadn't thought of shoes!)
We arrived in Florida at 10 am without any problems at all. The kids were great on the plane and didn't even need the books and games I'd packed in their carry ons. We went to the condo where there was an incredible water park with heated water and a lazy river. We played for a few hours then the kids all napped. We cooked a Thanksgiving dinner (my mom even made a turkey and all the fixings) and had family over that I hadn't seen in at least 14 years. We laughed and talked for hours.
Violet couldn't seem to wake up. When she participated with the family she was reserved and quiet. Very unlike her. After everybody left she really started complaining that her neck hurt, she had a terrible headache and she couldn't swallow. We've had enough cases of strep in the house for me to recognize the signs -- and we were a thousand miles from home, on vacation and about to do Disney World.
So we took her to the ER. They quickly diagnosed strep.
Of course.
They prescribed us antibiotics and sent us on our way.
She felt well enough the next day to visit The Kennedy Space Center. (a colossal waste of money, but they had fun) and go to our special dinner that evening. 'The Hoop De Doo Revue.' It was PERFECT. They put the spotlight on Sarah and announced her birthday. One of the actors teased my husband. One growled and pawed at Violet when he was dressed as a bear. John smiled, laughed and clapped along with the songs. They had a full gluten free dinner for me. We couldn't stop smiling. When we got back to the condo they acted out their favorite parts for my parents.
In the morning, Sarah's birthday, we got up early and headed out The Animal Kingdom. On the way into the park Sarah, my least coordinated child, was galloping and dancing along, asking what time it was so she could mark the exact time she was born. A lady heard her and said, "Happy Birthday!" Sarah looked up to say thank you, tripped and hit the sidewalk on one knee. Hard.
Of course.
It immediately started bleeding, quite nicely, too. She was sobbing and yelling as I whipped out my handy dandy first aid kit and cleaned it up. But it was big. And the brand new kit had one small band aid.
Of course.
The Animal Kingdom was incredible. We all had a great day without any other problems.
On Tuesday we visited my parents new house and had another good day.
On Wednesday I carefully packed our bags and coolers, put my schedule in my pocket and we headed out to The Magic Kingdom. We parked, took the little train to the Tram, the Tram to the front gates and waited for the park to open. It opened and we continued to wait to go through security. We went through, no problem. We got to the ticket taker, put the first ticket in and it spit it out, fast.
I had the wrong tickets.
The WRONG tickets.
Of course.
Cue uncontrollable sobbing -- from me.
I had to wind and push my way back the opposite way, find where to buy tickets and buy 5 tickets. All while sobbing. Then I had to get back into the security line, where the worker asked me several times if I was OK.
No, no I was not OK.
Then I sobbed my way back through the line, apologizing over and over to the people I was cutting in front off, trying to explain, "I brought the wrong tickets -sob- my family is up front -sob- I'm sooo sorry -sob-"
But I got through it, we put our tickets in and off we went. We went on all the rides the kids wanted then stopped for lunch. Where we discovered that we hadn't packed any bread sandwiches.
Of course.
We just ate the meat and cheese and soldiered on.
The kids went on more rides and met The Fairy Godmother. They had a blast.
We got home about 11:30, shoved everybody in bed and slept in the next day. When we woke up we took our time and went to Hollywood Studios.
It was perfect. Not too crowed at all, we got the Fast Passes we wanted and went in everything except Fantasmic. Because it was Sarah's birthday she had on a pin that said, "It's my birthday!" and all the cast members wished her happy birthday constantly. The ticket taker at The Indiana Jones Stunt Show saw her pin and asked if we wanted VIP seats. Yes please! So down to the front row we went!
The kids met "Green Army Man" from Toy Story, Sully and Mike from Monsters Inc, Wreck it Ralph and the little girl. Then? MICKEY MOUSE. During our wait at Indiana Jones, John had drawn Mickey a picture, then put it in his pocket and carried it there - safely- the rest of the day. When we saw Mickey -- and no line - he whipped that picture out and rushed the line. He danced his way up to Mickey and thrust the picture in Mickey's hand. Then Mickey took it, hugged John, turned and showed the note off to the photographer and everybody in line behind us.
::headexplosion::
We went home, so happy.
Friday we went to Downtown Disney and got ready for our flight out at 7:00. Sometime during 11 and 12 I received 2 calls from an unknown number in Texas. Which I ignored. About 1:30 I noticed that the number had left 2 voice mails, so I reluctantly decided to listen to them.
It was Southwest. Our flight time had been "updated" to 9:00. We wouldn't be getting home until well after midnight.
Of course.
In the end we switched flights. We did have a connection in Ft. Lauderdale, but we made it without a problem. Sarah was complaining about her knee and we noticed that it had puss coming out of it.
Of course.
We got home and were in bed by 12:00.
Saturday morning we got up very late and went to a diner for breakfast. Sarah took two bites of her favorite pancakes and refused to drink her hot chocolate. Her knee was still kind of gross and she wouldn't bend it.
So off to the walk in clinic we went. For a scraped knee.
It was infected. (but not badly)
Of course.
We got home and put all the kids on the sofa to watch as much TV as they wanted. I went upstairs and unpacked us. I came back downstairs and Sarah hugged me.
And was hot. So I took her temperature.
102.2
Of course.
The walk in clinics check out instructions said to take her to the ER if she developed a fever/chills.
She had both.
Of course.
So we bundled her up. She asked for a drink before we left.
And promptly puked it all up.
Of course.
So my husband drove us the ER while I held the puke bucket in the back seat.
They took us right in, worried about her knee.
It looked the same.
Her throat? Did not.
She has strep.
Of course.
Today we are all sitting on the sofa watching as much TV as we want, refusing to do a.single.thing. Drugging Sarah with Motrin and Tylenol.
Of course.
But did we truly have a magical time at the most magical place?
Of course. :)
Of course.
And we also experienced our usual family antics along the way. Because, really, what vacation is complete without a few hang ups ? And a trip the ER. On the day we arrived.
Of course.
Let me explain . . .
We woke the kids up at 4 am on Saturday morning and said, " Get dressed because WE'RE GOING TO DISNEY!"
Violet stared at us blankly. John said, "I'm tired." Sarah's mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. Then the questions started: did I pack shorts? (pretty sure I had that covered) Swim suits? (even goggles) sneakers? (gee, I hadn't thought of shoes!)
We arrived in Florida at 10 am without any problems at all. The kids were great on the plane and didn't even need the books and games I'd packed in their carry ons. We went to the condo where there was an incredible water park with heated water and a lazy river. We played for a few hours then the kids all napped. We cooked a Thanksgiving dinner (my mom even made a turkey and all the fixings) and had family over that I hadn't seen in at least 14 years. We laughed and talked for hours.
Violet couldn't seem to wake up. When she participated with the family she was reserved and quiet. Very unlike her. After everybody left she really started complaining that her neck hurt, she had a terrible headache and she couldn't swallow. We've had enough cases of strep in the house for me to recognize the signs -- and we were a thousand miles from home, on vacation and about to do Disney World.
So we took her to the ER. They quickly diagnosed strep.
Of course.
They prescribed us antibiotics and sent us on our way.
She felt well enough the next day to visit The Kennedy Space Center. (a colossal waste of money, but they had fun) and go to our special dinner that evening. 'The Hoop De Doo Revue.' It was PERFECT. They put the spotlight on Sarah and announced her birthday. One of the actors teased my husband. One growled and pawed at Violet when he was dressed as a bear. John smiled, laughed and clapped along with the songs. They had a full gluten free dinner for me. We couldn't stop smiling. When we got back to the condo they acted out their favorite parts for my parents.
In the morning, Sarah's birthday, we got up early and headed out The Animal Kingdom. On the way into the park Sarah, my least coordinated child, was galloping and dancing along, asking what time it was so she could mark the exact time she was born. A lady heard her and said, "Happy Birthday!" Sarah looked up to say thank you, tripped and hit the sidewalk on one knee. Hard.
Of course.
It immediately started bleeding, quite nicely, too. She was sobbing and yelling as I whipped out my handy dandy first aid kit and cleaned it up. But it was big. And the brand new kit had one small band aid.
Of course.
The Animal Kingdom was incredible. We all had a great day without any other problems.
On Tuesday we visited my parents new house and had another good day.
On Wednesday I carefully packed our bags and coolers, put my schedule in my pocket and we headed out to The Magic Kingdom. We parked, took the little train to the Tram, the Tram to the front gates and waited for the park to open. It opened and we continued to wait to go through security. We went through, no problem. We got to the ticket taker, put the first ticket in and it spit it out, fast.
I had the wrong tickets.
The WRONG tickets.
Of course.
Cue uncontrollable sobbing -- from me.
I had to wind and push my way back the opposite way, find where to buy tickets and buy 5 tickets. All while sobbing. Then I had to get back into the security line, where the worker asked me several times if I was OK.
No, no I was not OK.
Then I sobbed my way back through the line, apologizing over and over to the people I was cutting in front off, trying to explain, "I brought the wrong tickets -sob- my family is up front -sob- I'm sooo sorry -sob-"
But I got through it, we put our tickets in and off we went. We went on all the rides the kids wanted then stopped for lunch. Where we discovered that we hadn't packed any bread sandwiches.
Of course.
We just ate the meat and cheese and soldiered on.
The kids went on more rides and met The Fairy Godmother. They had a blast.
We got home about 11:30, shoved everybody in bed and slept in the next day. When we woke up we took our time and went to Hollywood Studios.
It was perfect. Not too crowed at all, we got the Fast Passes we wanted and went in everything except Fantasmic. Because it was Sarah's birthday she had on a pin that said, "It's my birthday!" and all the cast members wished her happy birthday constantly. The ticket taker at The Indiana Jones Stunt Show saw her pin and asked if we wanted VIP seats. Yes please! So down to the front row we went!
The kids met "Green Army Man" from Toy Story, Sully and Mike from Monsters Inc, Wreck it Ralph and the little girl. Then? MICKEY MOUSE. During our wait at Indiana Jones, John had drawn Mickey a picture, then put it in his pocket and carried it there - safely- the rest of the day. When we saw Mickey -- and no line - he whipped that picture out and rushed the line. He danced his way up to Mickey and thrust the picture in Mickey's hand. Then Mickey took it, hugged John, turned and showed the note off to the photographer and everybody in line behind us.
::headexplosion::
We went home, so happy.
Friday we went to Downtown Disney and got ready for our flight out at 7:00. Sometime during 11 and 12 I received 2 calls from an unknown number in Texas. Which I ignored. About 1:30 I noticed that the number had left 2 voice mails, so I reluctantly decided to listen to them.
It was Southwest. Our flight time had been "updated" to 9:00. We wouldn't be getting home until well after midnight.
Of course.
In the end we switched flights. We did have a connection in Ft. Lauderdale, but we made it without a problem. Sarah was complaining about her knee and we noticed that it had puss coming out of it.
Of course.
We got home and were in bed by 12:00.
Saturday morning we got up very late and went to a diner for breakfast. Sarah took two bites of her favorite pancakes and refused to drink her hot chocolate. Her knee was still kind of gross and she wouldn't bend it.
So off to the walk in clinic we went. For a scraped knee.
It was infected. (but not badly)
Of course.
We got home and put all the kids on the sofa to watch as much TV as they wanted. I went upstairs and unpacked us. I came back downstairs and Sarah hugged me.
And was hot. So I took her temperature.
102.2
Of course.
The walk in clinics check out instructions said to take her to the ER if she developed a fever/chills.
She had both.
Of course.
So we bundled her up. She asked for a drink before we left.
And promptly puked it all up.
Of course.
So my husband drove us the ER while I held the puke bucket in the back seat.
They took us right in, worried about her knee.
It looked the same.
Her throat? Did not.
She has strep.
Of course.
Today we are all sitting on the sofa watching as much TV as we want, refusing to do a.single.thing. Drugging Sarah with Motrin and Tylenol.
Of course.
But did we truly have a magical time at the most magical place?
Of course. :)
Friday, August 24, 2012
While On Vacation . . .
My children misbehaved. And were a freaking riot. A riot. I took notes, for real, on all the weird stuff they said and did just so I could blog it. They'd say something and I'd laugh so hard, then say, "Hang on, let me write that down." And type it into my little 'notes' app on my iPhone. I always wondered if/when I'd use that! So, a little glimpse into our vacation:
Me: Please don't run on the dock
Sarah & John, in unison: The life jacket makes us run!
~~
Sarah: See that duck? It's name is Flipper.
Me: How do you know it's name is Flipper?
Sarah: Because she's smart.
~~
Did you know fish can choke?
~~
That fish is named Big Ben. Oh, there he is! And there he is! And there . . . and there . . .
~~
John: Mommy, can you go sit over there, because the boat is like leaning.
(NO I WILL NOT! THE BOAT IS NOT LEANING!)
~~
Daddy, we have a problem (said while fishing), my wheeler inny came off. (that would be the fishing reel that came off.)
~~
Sarah, why don't you sit down?
Oh, I'm not putting my little patootie on those rocks!
~~
I'll touch the fish!! Wait, put him to sleep first.
~~
Daddy, I don't want a booby.
Daddy: Well, that's good, because it's called a bobber.
~~
Whew. I can't run 20 miles. I need running lessons.
~~
We had a wonderful time. We laughed and hung out on the Lake on a pontoon boat, where my husband helped the kids catch fish (although they totally think they did it all themselves) and Violet learned to cast, catch and reel in all by herself.
We went to this small little amusement park, family and Christian owned that was fantastic. Del Grosso's. They had a great water park and a ton of small fair/carnival rides for all ages. We spent 7 hours there, and it was small enough that the kids could get away from you a bit and feel some freedom, but were still with you. If you're near the State College area of Pennsylvania I highly recommend it.
We had a great time -- and no cell/wifi service.
OMG.
And we're going back next year for 5 days. (on a houseboat -- so awesome!)
I loved it, but did I mention no cell or wifi??
Me: Please don't run on the dock
Sarah & John, in unison: The life jacket makes us run!
~~
Sarah: See that duck? It's name is Flipper.
Me: How do you know it's name is Flipper?
Sarah: Because she's smart.
~~
Did you know fish can choke?
~~
That fish is named Big Ben. Oh, there he is! And there he is! And there . . . and there . . .
~~
John: Mommy, can you go sit over there, because the boat is like leaning.
(NO I WILL NOT! THE BOAT IS NOT LEANING!)
~~
Daddy, we have a problem (said while fishing), my wheeler inny came off. (that would be the fishing reel that came off.)
~~
Sarah, why don't you sit down?
Oh, I'm not putting my little patootie on those rocks!
~~
I'll touch the fish!! Wait, put him to sleep first.
~~
Daddy, I don't want a booby.
Daddy: Well, that's good, because it's called a bobber.
~~
Whew. I can't run 20 miles. I need running lessons.
~~
We had a wonderful time. We laughed and hung out on the Lake on a pontoon boat, where my husband helped the kids catch fish (although they totally think they did it all themselves) and Violet learned to cast, catch and reel in all by herself.
We went to this small little amusement park, family and Christian owned that was fantastic. Del Grosso's. They had a great water park and a ton of small fair/carnival rides for all ages. We spent 7 hours there, and it was small enough that the kids could get away from you a bit and feel some freedom, but were still with you. If you're near the State College area of Pennsylvania I highly recommend it.
We had a great time -- and no cell/wifi service.
OMG.
And we're going back next year for 5 days. (on a houseboat -- so awesome!)
I loved it, but did I mention no cell or wifi??
Monday, August 20, 2012
Lazy Days With Grandma
On Tuesday we went to my in laws in New Jersey with the hope that my husband would get to kayak the Delaware and fish while Sarah and John and I hung out with Grandma and Grandpa. I took my knitting and some work, knowing the kids would be entertained by the new "old" toys at Grandma's and the brook in her yard.
Only it started raining about 10 minutes from their house, a huge deluge of water that kept my husband out of the river. To say he was upset is an understatement. He'd taken time off from work and was looking forward to this so much.
So we hung out. And did a whole lot of nothing. Nothing that included the kids playing Mr. Piggly Wiggly with Grandma and Daddy teaching the kids how to play Domino's - not the stand up and crash down kind, but the old man at the table in the park kind.
They loved it! (and so did Daddy. Then they played the stand up and crash down type.)
We had a lovely lunch and it stopped raining. So the kids got on their swimsuits and climbed down into the brook while my husband 'fished.' This is how the fishing goes:
Cast the line.
Snag a very dumb fish.
Toss said fish at children.
Children scream in fear.
Children beg for more.
Cast the line.
Catch a fish. Toss a fish. Scream. Beg.
I don't understand the game, but it never changes and the kids initiate it every time we are there and it's warm enough to be in the brook.
Incidently, this is the same brook my husband grew up fishing, building dams in and riding his canoe down -- and no, it's not that big.Canoes should not go down this part.
They all splashed and ran and screamed while there. Grandma and Daddy were in on all the action.
They built a huge dam that took about an hour to complete. John laughed and screamed, jumped and dunked himself in the new, deeper water.
Sarah stood on the bridge and declared: I don't walk in wet grass. You can carry me.
*snort* Like that's going to happen.
I took pictures and giggled. Did some knitting and chatted with my mother in law.
In the end it was a great day -- all saved by Domino's and a dam.
Only it started raining about 10 minutes from their house, a huge deluge of water that kept my husband out of the river. To say he was upset is an understatement. He'd taken time off from work and was looking forward to this so much.
So we hung out. And did a whole lot of nothing. Nothing that included the kids playing Mr. Piggly Wiggly with Grandma and Daddy teaching the kids how to play Domino's - not the stand up and crash down kind, but the old man at the table in the park kind.
They loved it! (and so did Daddy. Then they played the stand up and crash down type.)
We had a lovely lunch and it stopped raining. So the kids got on their swimsuits and climbed down into the brook while my husband 'fished.' This is how the fishing goes:
Cast the line.
Snag a very dumb fish.
Toss said fish at children.
Children scream in fear.
Children beg for more.
Cast the line.
Catch a fish. Toss a fish. Scream. Beg.
I don't understand the game, but it never changes and the kids initiate it every time we are there and it's warm enough to be in the brook.
Incidently, this is the same brook my husband grew up fishing, building dams in and riding his canoe down -- and no, it's not that big.Canoes should not go down this part.
They all splashed and ran and screamed while there. Grandma and Daddy were in on all the action.
They built a huge dam that took about an hour to complete. John laughed and screamed, jumped and dunked himself in the new, deeper water.Sarah stood on the bridge and declared: I don't walk in wet grass. You can carry me.
*snort* Like that's going to happen.
I took pictures and giggled. Did some knitting and chatted with my mother in law.
In the end it was a great day -- all saved by Domino's and a dam.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
It's That Time Again . . .
It's that time again for four of my dear friends and I to get together, just as we have done every July for the past three years. Remember last year? It.Was.Epic. I mean, we talked with Josh Groban! Who said I had great moves and a wave like Prince William.
Now, this year won't be quite so exciting, but it's exciting all the same. Because I get to see these ladies
who, as I've told you before, have stuck by me through my darkest, deepest depression.
They could have run, instead they stayed and were gentle with me. They encouraged me through two hospitalizations. They IM'ed me and Skyped with me. They emailed and called.
Yes, I had support right here, from my husband and amazing friends as well. But there was just something special, knowing that four women who had never met me in person would continually provide me hope and love.
I wonder if I would have done the same. I would now, knowing what I do. Having learned from so many people what friendship truly means.
So, as I head out to Pennsylvania tomorrow, with one of the ladies, Keren (already with me from Texas), I am once again filled with awe. I feel encouraged and loved in the way only girlfriends can provide.
We're going to giggle like 13 year old's and share silly stories and secrets late into the night.
We may talk about the man who drew us together, but he's really not important. He's not what draws us close to each other anymore. It's our friendship.
I sincerely hope each of you has this kind of love in your life. We are truly blessed. Truly.
Now, this year won't be quite so exciting, but it's exciting all the same. Because I get to see these ladies
who, as I've told you before, have stuck by me through my darkest, deepest depression.They could have run, instead they stayed and were gentle with me. They encouraged me through two hospitalizations. They IM'ed me and Skyped with me. They emailed and called.
Yes, I had support right here, from my husband and amazing friends as well. But there was just something special, knowing that four women who had never met me in person would continually provide me hope and love.
I wonder if I would have done the same. I would now, knowing what I do. Having learned from so many people what friendship truly means.
So, as I head out to Pennsylvania tomorrow, with one of the ladies, Keren (already with me from Texas), I am once again filled with awe. I feel encouraged and loved in the way only girlfriends can provide.
We're going to giggle like 13 year old's and share silly stories and secrets late into the night.
We may talk about the man who drew us together, but he's really not important. He's not what draws us close to each other anymore. It's our friendship.
I sincerely hope each of you has this kind of love in your life. We are truly blessed. Truly.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
It's Summer. . .
Which means Violet is 9 today. And officially in the 4th grade.
Sarah is officially in the 1st grade.
And John is officially a kindergartner.
And I am officially old and living in some sort of weird time warp. Because I'm absolutely positive that just yesterday John was born, Sarah was 15 months old and Violet was 3 1/2 years old.
I'm positive.
I know that I have just put the girls in these sparkly dresses for Violet's 4th Birthday bash and forced them to hold a sleepy eyed John.
The rest of the world has moved on but we have not.
Anyway. Summer also means that it's time for the end of softball, the beginning of swim team, the girls dance recital and long, lazy days at the pool. Which I love, because let's be honest, if we are at the pool 1) My house isn't getting trashed by three rowdy children and 2) I can't clean if we are not home. That's a win - win situation right there.
John briefly flirted with the idea of swimming on our swim team, but in the end the playground was far too attractive. So he's not swimming this year - which is totally fine, even if his swimming would have alleviated my mommy guilt of his sister's being in summer activities and his not being in one. I'll just have to let that go. Let.It.Go. (and repeat.)
Swim team means Swim Meets, which means cue me becoming 'that' crazy poolside mom. Yes. Oh yes. I may stand at the end of the lane, on occasion, ( OK, like every time they swim) and cheer and yell for my kids and their friends. Loudly. And jump around. Like a fool at a Josh Groban concert. Whatever.
It may also highly embarrass my husband. Which I just may find pretty entertaining. But the thrill of seeing those kids finish a lap for the first time? Or seeing their face as they touch that wall, winning time or not? Priceless. So I'll be throwing my 39 year old body all around the pool deck again this season, waving my arms and screaming like a fan girl.
It's all good. :)
Sarah is officially in the 1st grade.
And John is officially a kindergartner.
And I am officially old and living in some sort of weird time warp. Because I'm absolutely positive that just yesterday John was born, Sarah was 15 months old and Violet was 3 1/2 years old.
I'm positive.
I know that I have just put the girls in these sparkly dresses for Violet's 4th Birthday bash and forced them to hold a sleepy eyed John.
The rest of the world has moved on but we have not.
Anyway. Summer also means that it's time for the end of softball, the beginning of swim team, the girls dance recital and long, lazy days at the pool. Which I love, because let's be honest, if we are at the pool 1) My house isn't getting trashed by three rowdy children and 2) I can't clean if we are not home. That's a win - win situation right there.
John briefly flirted with the idea of swimming on our swim team, but in the end the playground was far too attractive. So he's not swimming this year - which is totally fine, even if his swimming would have alleviated my mommy guilt of his sister's being in summer activities and his not being in one. I'll just have to let that go. Let.It.Go. (and repeat.)
Swim team means Swim Meets, which means cue me becoming 'that' crazy poolside mom. Yes. Oh yes. I may stand at the end of the lane, on occasion, ( OK, like every time they swim) and cheer and yell for my kids and their friends. Loudly. And jump around. Like a fool at a Josh Groban concert. Whatever.
It may also highly embarrass my husband. Which I just may find pretty entertaining. But the thrill of seeing those kids finish a lap for the first time? Or seeing their face as they touch that wall, winning time or not? Priceless. So I'll be throwing my 39 year old body all around the pool deck again this season, waving my arms and screaming like a fan girl.
It's all good. :)
Saturday, March 31, 2012
They're My Favorite
I love my husbands forearms.
LOVE them.
He was just in the garage, building something and had his sleeves rolled up and oh.my.lawd.
Ten years and three kids later the sight of his sweaty forearms -- preferably with a watch -- sends me.
Now, I've always loved his forearms, but since we have a history together it goes deeper.
Those arms have held me for ten years. Have held our babies for eight years. They provide for us. They love us.
The
LOVE them.
He was just in the garage, building something and had his sleeves rolled up and oh.my.lawd.
Ten years and three kids later the sight of his sweaty forearms -- preferably with a watch -- sends me.
Now, I've always loved his forearms, but since we have a history together it goes deeper.
Those arms have held me for ten years. Have held our babies for eight years. They provide for us. They love us.
The
Thursday, February 9, 2012
It's A Whole New World
Check.It.Out.
Look around, go ahead.
Drool over my stylish header.
Be jealous of my color scheme. (I have a color scheme!)
Swoon over my social network buttons. (Is that bird not the sweetest?)
Be envious of my new button.
*sighs*
I love.it.all.
Dana at The Vintage Pear designed it for me - and included me in the entire process. It was so fun! She worked really hard on this design and I want to tell her THANK YOU. I enjoy just gazing at my home page. For long periods of time. True story.
If you need some bling on your blog, go see Dana. She rocks. Obviously.
Look around, go ahead.
Drool over my stylish header.
Be jealous of my color scheme. (I have a color scheme!)
Swoon over my social network buttons. (Is that bird not the sweetest?)
Be envious of my new button.
*sighs*
I love.it.all.
Dana at The Vintage Pear designed it for me - and included me in the entire process. It was so fun! She worked really hard on this design and I want to tell her THANK YOU. I enjoy just gazing at my home page. For long periods of time. True story.
If you need some bling on your blog, go see Dana. She rocks. Obviously.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Bring Home The Bacon, Fry It Up In A Pan
(does anybody even remember this song? No? I've just so dated myself.)
Anyway, I can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, because I'm a woman.
A woman with a job. A paying job. In cash.
So, it's contract work, about 10 hours a week, but you guys, it pays me money. M-O-N-E-Y. Like, I can buy a pair of shoes money, or I can take my husband to dinner money. Or I could join the Y money. Real, live, green money.
Mulah. Dead presidents. Clams.
Whatever you call it, I'm making some of it, and I'm so excited.
It's not just the money that I'm excited about. I'm also thrilled that I was considered for and hired for the position -- and I have one. A position. With a title. I know.
This means that I'm really normal -that I've shown the outside world what I feel inside - confident and healthy. (I know that I'll always be working at being better, I think I learned that lesson last week. But this makes me feel normal, you know?)
I feel like this is a huge milestone in my health. To have somebody else recognize that I'm healthy and can be trusted with a project . . . it means more than I thought it would. Today as I was being trained I thought, " I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. But I also know that I can do it." And I can. I can organize these papers. I can get these mailings out. I can talk to mom's about cord blood. I know all this stuff. I got this.
And outside of being a mom (which is a huge thing) and a wife (which is a huge thing) I haven't felt like that in probably four years.
You guys? I'm a mom. With an outside job. That pays money. People are trusting me. And I feel like I got this.
Whoa.
Anyway, I can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, because I'm a woman.
A woman with a job. A paying job. In cash.
So, it's contract work, about 10 hours a week, but you guys, it pays me money. M-O-N-E-Y. Like, I can buy a pair of shoes money, or I can take my husband to dinner money. Or I could join the Y money. Real, live, green money.
Mulah. Dead presidents. Clams.
Whatever you call it, I'm making some of it, and I'm so excited.
It's not just the money that I'm excited about. I'm also thrilled that I was considered for and hired for the position -- and I have one. A position. With a title. I know.
This means that I'm really normal -that I've shown the outside world what I feel inside - confident and healthy. (I know that I'll always be working at being better, I think I learned that lesson last week. But this makes me feel normal, you know?)
I feel like this is a huge milestone in my health. To have somebody else recognize that I'm healthy and can be trusted with a project . . . it means more than I thought it would. Today as I was being trained I thought, " I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. But I also know that I can do it." And I can. I can organize these papers. I can get these mailings out. I can talk to mom's about cord blood. I know all this stuff. I got this.
And outside of being a mom (which is a huge thing) and a wife (which is a huge thing) I haven't felt like that in probably four years.
You guys? I'm a mom. With an outside job. That pays money. People are trusting me. And I feel like I got this.
Whoa.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
It's Christmas! It's Christmas!
It's Christmas and I'm up way too early, sitting here anxiously waiting for the kids to wake.up.right.this.very.minute!
I think I'm more excited than they are.
You know how every year they ask for for a gift that is unattainalbe? (No, we cannot get a pony. Or a pool. Or our very own life sized Thomas the Train.) This year they totally asked for a do-able gift: xbox 360
SCORE
So after I convinced Violet that xbox's were like a thousand dollars and there was no way on God's green earth that we were ever getting one and she explained to Sarah and John how much that was (It's like aaaalll the toys in Target) I got on Amazon and ordered it. For a $140 less than Best Buy/Target.
SCORE
We set it up last night, per Diana's instructions. Becuase that girl is smart. Then I played the games and oh my lord did I have fun! My husband attempted to not laugh at me. Did you know that the game takes pictures of you as you play it? As you jump and throw your body about in weird positions? So when the pictures of me playing flashed up on the screen?? OMG. The pictures of me in my pajama's, my glasses and no make up?? Yeah. He stopped even pretending I wasn't a hot mess.
I had a blast and that means the kids are going to as well.
SCORE.
It's almost 7:00.
I have to go!!
I think I'm more excited than they are.
You know how every year they ask for for a gift that is unattainalbe? (No, we cannot get a pony. Or a pool. Or our very own life sized Thomas the Train.) This year they totally asked for a do-able gift: xbox 360
SCORE
So after I convinced Violet that xbox's were like a thousand dollars and there was no way on God's green earth that we were ever getting one and she explained to Sarah and John how much that was (It's like aaaalll the toys in Target) I got on Amazon and ordered it. For a $140 less than Best Buy/Target.
SCORE
We set it up last night, per Diana's instructions. Becuase that girl is smart. Then I played the games and oh my lord did I have fun! My husband attempted to not laugh at me. Did you know that the game takes pictures of you as you play it? As you jump and throw your body about in weird positions? So when the pictures of me playing flashed up on the screen?? OMG. The pictures of me in my pajama's, my glasses and no make up?? Yeah. He stopped even pretending I wasn't a hot mess.
I had a blast and that means the kids are going to as well.
SCORE.
It's almost 7:00.
I have to go!!
Thursday, November 24, 2011
So Much To Be Thankful For
I know this is an obvious post, but let's go with it, shall we?
I have so much to be thankful for. For friends who have stood by me as I heal. Who have supported me with kindness and love this past year. I don't know if you'll ever understand how much your love and support mean to me, and I can't ever thank you enough. When I'm having a bad day your friendships pull me up.
For family who loved me through the darkest days and now smile with me as I have bright days. You helped me when I couldn't help myself and for that I am ever thankful. Your love pulls me up on my bad days and supports me in ways I can't express.
I have so much to be thankful for. For friends who have stood by me as I heal. Who have supported me with kindness and love this past year. I don't know if you'll ever understand how much your love and support mean to me, and I can't ever thank you enough. When I'm having a bad day your friendships pull me up.
For family who loved me through the darkest days and now smile with me as I have bright days. You helped me when I couldn't help myself and for that I am ever thankful. Your love pulls me up on my bad days and supports me in ways I can't express.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Six.Years.Old.
How is that even possible, Sarah? How are you six? You were little for so long and now you're a growing kid. I'm sitting here typing this and remembering your birth. We should have known then what an energy filled child you would be. You came into this world just as you occupy it: with an excitability and energy that I've rarely seen.
I spent the night before you were born thinking, "I can't sleep." So I paced and rocked. At 6:45 I had a contraction. At 7:00 I had a contraction that took my breath away. At 8:00 we were in the car on the way to the hospital. In the car I wanted to push. We got to the hospital at 8:30. They took me right back, as I was 'mooing' with every contraction. But they thought I was over reacting. They were wrong. You were born at 8:54. Two hours, start to finish. It was fast and wonderful, exciting and full of laughter. Just like you.
I spent the night before you were born thinking, "I can't sleep." So I paced and rocked. At 6:45 I had a contraction. At 7:00 I had a contraction that took my breath away. At 8:00 we were in the car on the way to the hospital. In the car I wanted to push. We got to the hospital at 8:30. They took me right back, as I was 'mooing' with every contraction. But they thought I was over reacting. They were wrong. You were born at 8:54. Two hours, start to finish. It was fast and wonderful, exciting and full of laughter. Just like you.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
These Are The Days
I used a writing prompt today: What was the happiest day of your life thus far? And the answer was so quick and obvious-- and cliche that I cringed to write about it. Then I started thinking . . .
I have more than one. And more than four. I married the man of my dreams, so naturally I never thought I'd top my wedding day. Then a year late we found out we were expecting -- the sheer joy! When Violet was born I believed I'd never been happier. Nine months later we were expecting again and I felt that same joy again. Even though we lost that baby, and the next, that joy, that extreme happiness stands out in my mind.
I have more than one. And more than four. I married the man of my dreams, so naturally I never thought I'd top my wedding day. Then a year late we found out we were expecting -- the sheer joy! When Violet was born I believed I'd never been happier. Nine months later we were expecting again and I felt that same joy again. Even though we lost that baby, and the next, that joy, that extreme happiness stands out in my mind.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
My February Song
Where has that old friend gone
Lost in a February song
Tell him it won't be long
'Till he opens his eyes, opens his eyes
Where is that simple day
Before colors broke into shades
And how did I ever fade
Into this life, into this life
And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
When all that I've known is lost and found
I promise you I, I'll come back to you someday
Morning is waking up
And sometimes it's more than just enough
when all that you really need to love
Is in front of your eyes, it's in front of your eyes
And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
Someitmes it's hard to find my ground
'Cause I keep on falling as
I try to get away from this crazy world
And I never want to let you down . ..
This is my song. My anthem. It's the song that pulled me through some of my deepest, darkest moments during my depression. The first time I understood the lyrics I had hope -- hope that I was not alone. That hope echoed through my soul. "I am not alone."
Lost in a February song
Tell him it won't be long
'Till he opens his eyes, opens his eyes
Where is that simple day
Before colors broke into shades
And how did I ever fade
Into this life, into this life
And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
When all that I've known is lost and found
I promise you I, I'll come back to you someday
Morning is waking up
And sometimes it's more than just enough
when all that you really need to love
Is in front of your eyes, it's in front of your eyes
And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
Someitmes it's hard to find my ground
'Cause I keep on falling as
I try to get away from this crazy world
And I never want to let you down . ..
This is my song. My anthem. It's the song that pulled me through some of my deepest, darkest moments during my depression. The first time I understood the lyrics I had hope -- hope that I was not alone. That hope echoed through my soul. "I am not alone."
Monday, October 17, 2011
Red Light Green Light
Stopped at a red light the other day.
John is in his car seat, diagonally behind me.
I reach over and flip the radio station.
From behind me, an odd sound.
John is in his car seat, diagonally behind me.
I reach over and flip the radio station.
From behind me, an odd sound.
Friday, September 30, 2011
A Day In MollyWood: On My Blog!
I 'found' molly via Twitter when I had been blogging about a month. I read her post, "The Lost Year" and was blown away. I knew. I understood. I fell in absolute love with he. The first time I saw her in my comments? I sat and stared at my screen for about two minutes in complete shock. We've gotten to know each other a little since then and she's a wonderful, wonderful woman. When she agreed to guest post for me I did a big ole funky dance around my kitchen, I'm not going to lie.
Kim, who has always been one of my biggest supporters, asked me to write a guest post on what it’s like to blog about living with mental illness. For a few weeks I lingered in writer’s block every time I tried to think of what to write. Then a common little saying popped into my head.
This was said to me when I was 21 weeks pregnant with my second son. I needed to be medicated due to a bad case of antenatal depression. I cried to my OB telling her that it couldn’t be good for the baby.
She looked straight at me and answered, “Neither is a mom who can’t take care of herself while she’s pregnant or after her baby is born. The benefit outweighs the risk.”
She was absolutely right. Soon Brigham was born and it was one of the most memorable and blissful times of my life. The benefit most definitely outweighed the risk.
I think the same could be said of blogging about depression.
I understand the risks. Every time I write a post about depression I know more people will read it than any other posts I write. It is easily reflected in my blog stats. I get sad and the readers, they come a running. I would like to believe that they are there because they worry about me or they want to learn more about it. But I’m sure some of it is the ambulance-chaser mentality. Watching people falter is fun for some people.
The risks grew as my family members and friends started reading my blog. Even my mom reads it now! I used to share stories of my most difficult times only to the strangers who stumbled upon my blog. Now people I know and love read the words I write. Worrying them is never my intention. Writing is my outlet. It is the way I repair what is broken. It makes me happy and helps me heal. I know they understand that.
Blogging about something so personal means I have to moderate comments. It is sad but I have received a few hateful anonymous comments that if published would erupt into a catfight below my post. I don’t want that negativity on my blog so those go straight to the blog landfill.
One of the worst comments I ever received said that I needed to “shut the f**k up” about my depression and write about something else. They told me no one cares about it. Best believe that went unpublished. But it didn’t stop me from wondering if this person was right.
It can be risky to share so much. But for every hateful comment I receive there are also beautiful and uplifting emails sent to me each and every time I post about my struggles.
This email was sent to me after pressing publish on one of the most difficult posts I have ever written involving suicidal thoughts.
Every time I wonder if I’ve shared too much and contemplate quitting I receive an email like the one above. The feeling that I’ve helped someone else in some small way makes me feel like I made the right decision to blog about a taboo subject.
I know talking about mental illness makes some people uncomfortable. But it breaks my heart that many people struggle even more because they feel they aren’t allowed to share it. They are afraid of being made fun of or afraid to be seen as weak or psycho.
I don’t blame them. I used to be afraid.
But being open about mental illness helps me and it seems to help others too. As long as that’s the case I will keep it up. I will continue writing because the benefit outweighs the risk.
Kim, who has always been one of my biggest supporters, asked me to write a guest post on what it’s like to blog about living with mental illness. For a few weeks I lingered in writer’s block every time I tried to think of what to write. Then a common little saying popped into my head.
The benefit outweighs the risk.
This was said to me when I was 21 weeks pregnant with my second son. I needed to be medicated due to a bad case of antenatal depression. I cried to my OB telling her that it couldn’t be good for the baby.
She looked straight at me and answered, “Neither is a mom who can’t take care of herself while she’s pregnant or after her baby is born. The benefit outweighs the risk.”
She was absolutely right. Soon Brigham was born and it was one of the most memorable and blissful times of my life. The benefit most definitely outweighed the risk.
I think the same could be said of blogging about depression.
I understand the risks. Every time I write a post about depression I know more people will read it than any other posts I write. It is easily reflected in my blog stats. I get sad and the readers, they come a running. I would like to believe that they are there because they worry about me or they want to learn more about it. But I’m sure some of it is the ambulance-chaser mentality. Watching people falter is fun for some people.
The risks grew as my family members and friends started reading my blog. Even my mom reads it now! I used to share stories of my most difficult times only to the strangers who stumbled upon my blog. Now people I know and love read the words I write. Worrying them is never my intention. Writing is my outlet. It is the way I repair what is broken. It makes me happy and helps me heal. I know they understand that.
Blogging about something so personal means I have to moderate comments. It is sad but I have received a few hateful anonymous comments that if published would erupt into a catfight below my post. I don’t want that negativity on my blog so those go straight to the blog landfill.
One of the worst comments I ever received said that I needed to “shut the f**k up” about my depression and write about something else. They told me no one cares about it. Best believe that went unpublished. But it didn’t stop me from wondering if this person was right.
It can be risky to share so much. But for every hateful comment I receive there are also beautiful and uplifting emails sent to me each and every time I post about my struggles.
This email was sent to me after pressing publish on one of the most difficult posts I have ever written involving suicidal thoughts.
I just wanted to say thank you for sharing your story. I am sitting at work reading your blog and having a weird "I wasn't the only one" feeling. Mostly because I know that girl. You are brave and strong and truly inspirational. And yes you do deserve to hear that.
Every time I wonder if I’ve shared too much and contemplate quitting I receive an email like the one above. The feeling that I’ve helped someone else in some small way makes me feel like I made the right decision to blog about a taboo subject.
I know talking about mental illness makes some people uncomfortable. But it breaks my heart that many people struggle even more because they feel they aren’t allowed to share it. They are afraid of being made fun of or afraid to be seen as weak or psycho.
I don’t blame them. I used to be afraid.
But being open about mental illness helps me and it seems to help others too. As long as that’s the case I will keep it up. I will continue writing because the benefit outweighs the risk.
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Friday, September 23, 2011
Hello, World!
We're going on vacation. Just my husband and me. Can you even stand it? To celebrate 10 years (in a row, as he says. He's all kinds of funny.) of wedded bliss, we are going to Colorado. My parents are coming in to do our job for 8 days (insert evil laugh).
While we relax.
(more evil laughter)
We're going to sit in the natural hot springs. He's going to fish. I'm going to window shop. We're going to spend some time with great friends.
We're going to spend time just being together.
I.cannot.wait.
I mean, I'm sad and anxious about leaving my children. I really am. But they'll be with my parents. And we did do this last year. So I know we're good.
And we need this. It's been a great year, yes. I've been healthy for a year and a half, so we're not walking on egg shells any more. The tension and the stress are gone. We can simply enjoy each other and get to know each other again, the people we've become since this whole depression mess started after John was born.
Get to know each other again.
That is going to be lovely.
While I'm gone I have some rockin' guest posts lined up. ROCKING, I tell you. I'm not spilling any secrets, you'll have to tune in to find out. But just know that I'm beyond excited to have these bloggers here at my place. I've read all of them for over a year - since the early days of my blogging and it blows my mind that they each agreed to guest post over here. I'm all kinds of excited.
Remember when Josh and I had our little conversation? Yeah. Kinda like that. When each of them agreed there was definite screaming and jumping involved. So . . . stay tuned.
While we relax.
(more evil laughter)
We're going to sit in the natural hot springs. He's going to fish. I'm going to window shop. We're going to spend some time with great friends.
We're going to spend time just being together.
I.cannot.wait.
I mean, I'm sad and anxious about leaving my children. I really am. But they'll be with my parents. And we did do this last year. So I know we're good.
And we need this. It's been a great year, yes. I've been healthy for a year and a half, so we're not walking on egg shells any more. The tension and the stress are gone. We can simply enjoy each other and get to know each other again, the people we've become since this whole depression mess started after John was born.
Get to know each other again.
That is going to be lovely.
While I'm gone I have some rockin' guest posts lined up. ROCKING, I tell you. I'm not spilling any secrets, you'll have to tune in to find out. But just know that I'm beyond excited to have these bloggers here at my place. I've read all of them for over a year - since the early days of my blogging and it blows my mind that they each agreed to guest post over here. I'm all kinds of excited.
Remember when Josh and I had our little conversation? Yeah. Kinda like that. When each of them agreed there was definite screaming and jumping involved. So . . . stay tuned.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
True Companion
True Companion ~ Mark Cohn
Baby i've been searching like everybody else
[caption id="attachment_1343" align="alignright" width="300" caption="10 years ago. (forgive the picture quality. It's a picture of a picture.)"]
[/caption]
Can't say nothing different about myself
Sometimes i'm an angel
And sometimes i'm cruel
And when it comes to love
I'm just another fool
Yes, i'll climb a mountain
I'm gonna swim the sea
There ain't no act of god girl
Could keep you safe from me
My arms are reaching out
Out across this canyon
I'm asking you to be my true companion
True companion
True companion
So don't you dare and try to walk away
I've got my heart set on our wedding day
I've got this vision of a girl in white
Made my decision that it's you allright
And when i take your hand
I'll watch my heart set sail
I'll take my trembling fingers
And i'll lift up your veil
Then i'll take you home
And with wild abandon
Make love to you just like a true companion
You are my true companion
I got a true companion
True companion
When the years have done irreparable harm
I can see us walking slowly arm in arm
Just like the couple on the corner do
'cause girl i will always be in love with you
And when i look in your eyes
I'll still see that spark
Until the shadows fall
Until the room grows dark
Then when i leave this earth
I'll be with the angels standin'
I'll be out there waiting for my true companion
Just for my true companion
True companion
True companion
10 years ago I married my true companion. This was our wedding song. It's still our song. When we chose it, it was a vague song I'd heard from a friend of mine, then heard at another wedding. Today it rings so true.
Babe? I love you more than this song says. My heart sings with joy that we are together for always.
Baby i've been searching like everybody else
[caption id="attachment_1343" align="alignright" width="300" caption="10 years ago. (forgive the picture quality. It's a picture of a picture.)"]
[/caption]Can't say nothing different about myself
Sometimes i'm an angel
And sometimes i'm cruel
And when it comes to love
I'm just another fool
Yes, i'll climb a mountain
I'm gonna swim the sea
There ain't no act of god girl
Could keep you safe from me
My arms are reaching out
Out across this canyon
I'm asking you to be my true companion
True companion
True companion
So don't you dare and try to walk away
I've got my heart set on our wedding day
I've got this vision of a girl in white
Made my decision that it's you allright
And when i take your hand
I'll watch my heart set sail
I'll take my trembling fingers
And i'll lift up your veil
Then i'll take you home
And with wild abandon
Make love to you just like a true companion
You are my true companion
I got a true companion
True companion
When the years have done irreparable harm
I can see us walking slowly arm in arm
Just like the couple on the corner do
'cause girl i will always be in love with you
And when i look in your eyes
I'll still see that spark
Until the shadows fall
Until the room grows dark
Then when i leave this earth
I'll be with the angels standin'
I'll be out there waiting for my true companion
Just for my true companion
True companion
True companion
10 years ago I married my true companion. This was our wedding song. It's still our song. When we chose it, it was a vague song I'd heard from a friend of mine, then heard at another wedding. Today it rings so true.
Babe? I love you more than this song says. My heart sings with joy that we are together for always.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Loving Yourself : A list
OK, so I was just over at John's place, Daddy Run's A Lot, and he put a challenge to us: write down things you love about yourself. I immediately clicked away. Then realized that I had to accept to the challenge. I think this is harder than writing about my depression -it's so easy to identify those things we dislike, we constantly point them out. To each other, to ourselves on a daily basis. What about those things that we love? What about a little self love? And go read John's list. Oh, and to add to John's list: great dad. He forgot that one.
So. My list. So hard. In no particular order:
1. I love that I am, after 10 years, still madly and deeply in love with my husband.
2. I love my hair.
3. I love the way I can write a great post and connect with people. It makes me feel good for days and days.
4. I love that I am honest.
5. I love that I am talkative. Sometimes overly so, but it's a funky quirk about me. I own it.
Now, go over to John's place and link up. Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to tell us things that you like about YOU. Are you up for it?
So. My list. So hard. In no particular order:
1. I love that I am, after 10 years, still madly and deeply in love with my husband.
2. I love my hair.
3. I love the way I can write a great post and connect with people. It makes me feel good for days and days.
4. I love that I am honest.
5. I love that I am talkative. Sometimes overly so, but it's a funky quirk about me. I own it.
Now, go over to John's place and link up. Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to tell us things that you like about YOU. Are you up for it?
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