Bipolar?

Do you ever feel like you might be bipolar? I know that I do all the time. And it is a question that I ask my therapist often, praying that the answer is still, "No, don't be silly. You are NOT bipolar. This is all just the normal ebb and flow of emotions. Especially emotions following the trauma that you have been through." Yikes...I hate that word. Trauma. I know that my family has been through a trauma...or maybe even a mini-series of traumas. I have been told by many people that I should sell my story to someone and make millions off of the amazing chain of events that have happened in our lives. Or, maybe I'll just stick with this blog and my maybe two readers that keep up with it. Ha! OK, back to being bipolar...hmm...maybe I'm ADHD also!! The range of emotions and feelings that I run through at any given time make it seem like I am bipolar. My blog posts are probably amazing evidence of this. Just yesterday, I was posting warm fuzzies regarding my truck and how excited I am to drive. Today was also good and happy. I had a doctor appointment that I may blog about later, but I feel that every day I'm getting closer and closer to answers that will "fix" me. I had some anxiety with a good friend for a few days and that was resolved with the resolution that I was hoping for. Dinner time was the best! I came home, didn't really want to cook, packed the girls into the truck and headed to McDonalds. I drove...to McDonalds...and we sat in the PlayPlace for over an hour and played and laughed and ate and had a marvelous time. I took tons of pictures and we rejoiced that we can do normal activities again! I texted my sister pictures of the girls at McDonalds and just said, "It's amazing the things that you take for granted until they're gone." We got all philosophical and emotional for a bit, and then we started the trek home for homework, bath, and bedtime routine. And that's when things started going downhill. Emerson cried most of the way home because she noticed the three other families at the Play Place that had a mommy and a daddy. She didn't think it was very fair that we didn't have a daddy. And that conversation started. Why did daddy die? How did daddy die? Why can't I bring daddy back? Why do we have to be without a daddy? I think I've blogged before that I wasn't prepared for Emerson to go through this. I don't know why and I feel like stupid mom for not thinking about that, but she is having emotions about this and it's so so hard! It was hard when I did it with Amelia...to a point. Amelia just sort of accepted it and moved on. She frequently talks about how thankful she is to live in a house of girls and how she loves our family of three. But with Emerson, this is different. She has no memory of Brian. Emerson was born in April of 2010. Brian died in October of 2010. She was six months old. She does not remember her father, other than from a few pictures and stories that Amelia tells. And her grief and this whole process feels very different to me than it did with Amelia. And it's hard on mommy too. Amelia is going through a tough time at school. It's not really related to this, but then it's also hard to not think that of course it's related to this. Just as I feel I am bipolar, I'm sure the range of emotions that hit my girls throughout any given day is difficult as well. So, when Amelia has a hard time at school, it makes me question everything that is going on. I know that she's allowed to have tough days, but as a mom of little ones who are growing up short a parent, PLUS having that growth compounded by grief and trauma, I often over analyze everything. Why is Amelia having a hard time? What is going on at school? What is she thinking about? What is she trying to process? What is happening in her little brain? It's exhausting to predict all of that, and sometimes I just can't. It can be a full-time job trying to anticipate the needs of a six year old that has been through what she's been through. So, I was not surprised when she asked to go straight to bed after we were finished with our 30 minutes of reading. She fell asleep almost immediately. I kissed her forehead and moved onto the next room. She was laying down crying softly to herself. "Emmy? What's wrong?" "I'm so sad and I don't know why." "Is it because of daddy? I know you were sad that we don't have a daddy. Is that why you're sad?" "Yes. I want daddy to come back." "I know..." "It's not fair that my friends at school all have daddies." (This is true, by the way. I am the only single parent in her preschool class which is hard on both of us apparently.) "I am so sorry that you don't have a daddy. I wish you did." And then the questions started all over again. Why did daddy die? How did daddy die? Why didn't he stay with us? Why did his heart stop? Didn't he love us anymore? And I lay next to her and answer them the best I can, knowing that I will never be able to make this ok to her. Knowing that anything that I say isn't going to help. But I do the best I can. And I try not to feel bipolar. And I try to stay strong in spite of the sadness and grief and anger that fill my own heart. Death and trauma are not simple things. There is no simple explanation for my little girls. This is true at 3 and 6, but I feel like it will also be true at 23 and 26. Many of the conversations with my therapist revolve around when is it a good time to bring up (insert death, dying, trauma topic here) to my girls? And there is no right or wrong answer. My therapist always tells me "you'll know" and I suppose with divine intervention and incessant prayers I will know. God usually gives me the words to say to my little three year old when she asks "Why did daddy die?" and I have faith that he will continue to give me the words and strength I need at the exact moment I need them. And I've learned it's OK to feel bipolar. It's part of the grief process that we go through. And it sucks. There's no other way to say it. It sucks. It sucks as a wife. It sucks worse as a mom because you experience it on your own level, and then again on a tiny level. But it's important to go through. So, we plunge forward. Pray. Hope. Carry on. And make going through life without a daddy as normal as possible. It's ok to feel bipolar. It's ok to run the whole range of emotions. The trick to noticing growth and healing is observing more peaks than valleys. Knowing that the driving of the truck, and the happy moments and memories we are creating will far outweigh the tears over being a house of all girls. We had a rough patch tonight. But, the girls in this house are tough and we move forward. And we will laugh again because as Amelia points out often, who needs stinky boys anyway?

6 Months...

I always knew that I was going to drive a truck...a shiny, red one! So, when I was finished with grad school and got hired on by CK School District, the first thing I did was buy a shiny, new red truck. I loved her so! I drove her everywhere. Carted my friends around in it everywhere. Cried real giant tears when my friend Tim gave her her first scratch right across the hood...stupid belt buckle. Used her as a get-away car for many stupid pranks. Drove her a few times to the Gorge and back for concerts (It was never as cool as the year we took my mom's mini-van to Warped Tour though). I remember where I was at 100 miles...at 10,000 miles...and in like 40 miles she'll have 100,000 miles. I bought her brand new in 2002 and I loved her to death. So, when life started unravelling and I couldn't stand to have Brian's Kia at the time, my parents hid his car from my sight and I drove my beautiful red truck. I was thankful that we had been a two-car family so that I had that option. I still loved my red truck. And then, gas prices went insane. And being a newly single mom on a budget I no longer saw a beautiful red truck. I saw 13 miles to the gallon, while I had a Kia Spectra tucked away that got 35 miles to the gallon. After many sessions of therapy and many hours of pacing and convincing myself that I could do it, I parked my pretty red truck in our driveway and started driving the Kia to work. It took me a few months of driving it every day, but I eventually only cried to Chico. And then only to the freeway. And then only to the end of the driveway. And eventually the tears stopped altogether. I was never comfortable driving the Kia, but I was very comfortable with the idea that I was saving so much money on gas. And then, I started having seizures. You don't know how much you take for granted until you can't do something anymore. Driving is not something they recommend when you are prone to seizures. I think I've blogged about my seizures before. I had no idea I was having seizures. I thought I was having panic attacks, or mini moments of anxiety. I did not think I was having seizures. But, when my second neurologist recommended I have an EEG and in that first EEG they saw seizure activity, I finally knew that I was having seizures. So they started me on meds and for a while, they got worse. Much of the fall of 2011 is a blur to me. I was being bounced from seizure med to seizure med, trying to get them to stop. Nothing seemed to work. I was out of work for a few months on sick leave while they tried to figure out my seizures. They admitted me to Swedish for a week to do a video EEG to see if they could pinpoint my seizures and of course nothing happened while I was there. So, they diagnosed me with psychogenic seizures...or as I liked to call them, fake seizures. These seizures look like seizures and act like seizures, but they are stress induced and there are not brain changes during the seizures. They are not epileptic. But, there was not 100% certainty that I wasn't also experiencing epileptic seizures also so they kept me on seizure meds and I went on my merry way. I was still having seizures. So, in order to keep me, my children, and society safe, I stopped driving. I cannot say thank you enough to all of the amazing people in our lives that helped out when I needed help. So many of you jumped in and carted my girls and me all over the county and I am so appreciative. I will never be able to repay you all for your generosity and graciousness, but there were so many of you that helped out. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart. So, I was dependent on many people to help us out. In a time when you would more than likely need a car, I was stranded and dependent on so many to get me to work, doctor appointments, my kids to daycare. I researched and found ways to get around driving. I ordered my groceries online and they were delivered to my house. I had amazing friends that would pick up and drop off chicken and rabbit food. And then I would have a streak where things seemed ok, and I would drive, but then would quickly be back to not driving. It was very frustrating for me. A few neurologists later, a couple miracles, and a new seizure drug and I have hit a milestone this week. Six months with no seizures. Washington state law states that you have to be seizure free for six months before you are allowed to drive again. And I was given the all-clear from my new neuro to start driving again as of this week. Our first trip home was yesterday in the Kia from ballet class. The girls were ecstatic and so was I, but today's was even better. I loaded the carseats into my beautiful red truck and off we went to meet a friend for dinner. It was only a ten minute drive to Silverdale, but it was the best drive ever. The girls were beaming. Amelia asked to turn the radio on. Emerson pointed out that she had never ridden in my truck with me before, which is probably true...she wouldn't remember since I stopped driving it when she was a baby. So many good things have happened in our lives. And to quote one of my friends, 2014 is starting out great! As I was tucking Amelia into bed tonight, she wrapped her arms around my neck and said, "Mommy, today was so amazing! I'm so proud of you! I'm so proud of us!" I squeezed her back and told her that I was proud of her and I was proud of us too. We have been through so much! She has been through so much. During the time I was having my worst seizures, she was such a trooper, following our protocol that we have put together perfectly and never wavering. She was brave and helpful and always did everything she could to help me out, and help Emerson out if I was having a seizure. Even at four, five, six years old, she stepped in and helped out in a big way. And I'm so proud of her! Even after just experiencing the loss of one parent, she still was able to remain calm for her sister, and get help when we needed it. I owe my life to that girl, in more ways that anyone will ever know. So, we are back! We are cruising around town in my beautiful red truck again. And I have hopes and prayers that we will stay that way for a long time! It's tough not driving and having that piece of independence back is an amazing feeling. Don't believe me? Check out the picture of two little beaming faces I posted on Facebook. As Emerson said on our way to Silverdale, "Mommy, I think this calls for a celebration!" Celebration indeed! A new lease on life! A new sense of independence! A new chance to make memories with my girls! I think we're going to the zoo...no, the park...no, the ocean...no...

Merry Christmas to All...

I love the magic of Christmas! It's amazing! I found a picture on Facebook the other day that rang 1000% true. It said something like, "I used the think that being a kid on Christmas was the best thing ever but it turns out having kids on Christmas is." That statement is definitely true. Watching the excitement in their eyes as presents pile up under the tree. Hearing their little cherub voices singing "Away in a Manger" at our Christmas Even service tonight. Seeing the wonderment in their eyes as they stared at their candles during church tonight, singing Silent Night. Having Amelia pull me over to the Nativity scene at church and being so excited to see the baby Jesus FINALLY in his spot in the manger. Listening to their eager giggling as they snuggled into Amelia's bed together for their Christmas Eve sleepover while waiting for Santa. My heart fills with pride and love, adoration and excitement as I experience Christmas through the eyes of my two baby girls. It is truly amazing and I often find myself closing my eyes, choking back tears, and wishing that the moment would never end. I know time can't stand still, but if I could just will it to slow down...even for a moment. There is no part of these moments that I want to miss. I tucked the girls into bed tonight, after opening one gift, and told them to hurry to sleep so Santa would come. He wrote Amelia and Emerson letters earlier this month and told them that our house would be the first stop. That was amazing motivation for them to get right to sleep! There was no arguing or asking for more ice in their water. There was no telling me they needed to go potty and no asking for more blankets. It was right in and right to sleep. As I was giving out goodnight kisses, Amelia reached up and grabbed my neck. "Just one more thing, Mommy?" "Of course sweetheart!" "Well, is it one year from January to December?" "Yes, pretty much. 2013 ran from January to December and 2014 will do that too." "Well, mommy...I just have to say, that this was our best year EVER" "You're right, Amelia! I think every year just keeps getting better and better, don't you?" "Yup! I think so! And why wouldn't it? We have everything we want! Everything we need! And any year I get to be with you and Emerson is my best year!" My eyes filled with tears and all I could muster was a "I couldn't agree more, Amelia. Time spent with you and Em is my best year too!" "Good night, mommy! Don't stay up too late! Santa won't come, and we're his first stop, you know!" I smiled and said, "Yes, La...I know! Good night!" And then I made my way to the living room. I sat for a few minutes until I heard two little snoring girls in the next room and then I got to work. I ate some lovely cookies and drank some milk. I went outside to the deck and broke up the carrots into little pieces and scattered them. Not something I usually do, but the Santa we visited this year took extra time with my kiddos. He told them to go outside Christmas morning and look for carrot pieces that rolled off the roof while the reindeer ate them. Thanks a lot, Santa! I needed something else to remember...haha! It was kinda magical for even me while I was doing it though. I'm just picturing the girls' faces when they run out to the deck. I tucked Lily back into her Elf on the Shelf box (thanks to Richard's family for reminding me in their Facebook post!!) Then, I stood back at the end and took it all in. The happiness of the girls...the beauty of our lovely Christmas tree...the frost forming on the grass and porch outside...how blessed I am to have a job where I can get presents for all of us...what a glorious time of year! And then, just for a second, the image of my whole, complete family popped into my head. I'm not sure if any of my readers have experienced grief, but it catches you off guard...when you least expect it. And at that moment, it caught me and it knocked the stuffing out of me. It caught my breath, just for a moment, but that moment was enough to let it in. And my heart broke in two. Sharing a private moment with all of you, I spend a lot of my time in anger. My grief is mostly anger. But every once in a while, and for sure on Christmas Eve, what starts off as anger turns into sadness. As I'm running around playing Santa for my girls, every year it catches me off guard. I'm the only one here playing Santa. I'm putting together toys and setting things out just right. I'm going to ballet recitals and Nutcracker practice. I'm baking cookies and putting together teacher gifts. I'm mailing out cards and wrapping presents. And for all the fun I have doing all of those things, and for all the thankfulness I have in my heart that I am doing those things and getting to be a part of all of that, there's also the piece where I miss my partner. I miss my husband. I miss my friend. I miss shopping for the girls together and being so excited over our purchases. I miss slapping his hand as he stole cookies off of the pan. I miss having some sort of lookout while I set stuff out from Santa. I miss my husband. And in the middle of all of the decorations and gifts from Santa, I cry. I grieve. I beg to go back in time, if even for a moment. I get angry at all that he's missing out on. The girls' ballet recitals are another emotional time for me because I get angry that he's gone then too. I get upset that he's missing out on their lives. On our holidays. On our Christmas. And then...the moment passes. The grief subsides. And life goes on. I turn and switch the light off and smile at the stockings hanging and ready. I walk to the girls' room and walk in, pausing to listen to their breathing and smiling as I see they are snuggled close together, waiting for the time to pass before they can wake me up and head to see their new treasures. And the grief is tucked away once again. Because this is the most wonderful time of year! And there is no place for grief. We are happy, and healthy, and blessed more than most! I have a lovely home, two beautiful girls that I get all to myself, a spacious yard to play in. I have family all around, my parents right next door. I have my sis in town for a bit with her little angel babies. I have a church family that I love. I have friends who help out with so many things...watching the girls while I'm at work, driving them to and from school, driving them to ballet practice. I have a school that my kids' love to attend, and I have a school that is a huge part of family for me. I have friends that would do anything for me, and DO do anything for me. I have so much in my life! And I can't complain! So, I let that grief sneak in for a bit, because I deserve that also, but I tuck it away and move forward! Because tomorrow is Christmas! And I get to wake up to Amelia and Emerson! That's all that I have on my list! Is waking up to those two precious little ones and knowing that I'm their momma and I love them with all my being! So, my family sends Christmas blessings to your family! I hope that you close your eyes at the important little moments and will time to slow down, if even for second because time goes too fast and we all needs those moments! Slow down and enjoy them! Grieve for the ones that you have lost and remember them in this time also, but tuck that away and move forward! There are so many more memories to be made! Be glad that you're still here to make those memories, and then go make them! Merry Christmas to all...and to all a good night!!

Alexander was Right...

Today's blog post is not an adorable quip from one of my children. My sister is in town (YAY!) and they have played until they are way too tired, so both girls went to bed without saying a word other than, "Goodnight, Mommy..." A big part of my job as a speech therapist is social skills. Working with special education children, many of my students are somewhere on the Autism spectrum, and many of them don't understand social language. The curriculum that I use (which is fabulous and I buy into it whole-heartedly) has whole lessons centered on teaching the children to differentiate between a big problem and a small problem. This is a lesson that you think kids would just pick up, but this is not the case. Many of my children struggle with knowing what is something that warrants a small reaction, and what is something that warrants the huge explosions of behavior that we often see. Today, I'm pretty sure I had a day that warranted a big, huge explosion...luckily, I've worked through my curriculum a few times and know how to calm myself. And, I'm also lucky that I have great friends, coworkers, and dad to help me out of my messes. There is a book that I've read to my children (both my children by blood, and my little struggling social learners) called Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. This book is about a little boy who has the worst day ever. From the time he wakes up, until the time that he goes to bed, everything goes wrong. His solution throughout the book is that he needs to move to Australia. After today, I think that solution is perfect! From the time I woke up until the time I crawled into bed, things just kept going wrong. I had to take sick leave today for a doctor's appointment in Seattle. I got there early. The receptionist told me I'd get to go in early, but that didn't happen. The scale said I was heavier...impossible! The growth chart said I shrank an inch...what?! I went into my appointment with high hopes, only to have them dashed away by the end of the appointment. I felt like it was a waste of time...a waste of money...a waste of leave. I got to the ferry at 1:00...perfect! There was a 1:10 Bainbridge or a 1:30 Bremerton. I chose the Bainbridge...wrongly. Traffic was awful! Bumper to bumper going at a turtle's pace across the entire island. On my way off the island, my phone died. Then, I remembered that it was supposed to snow and I had stuff in my office at work for Christmas...and files to send...and my planner! Oh dear...off to school I went. I checked in at the party they were having, waving to my people, watched some gifts being opened, got much needed hugs from my favorite, and finally got in the truck for home. I got home, and ran up to my mom's house to spend time with my sister. Oh...first, I need to plug in my phone. Huh...where IS my phone? I empty my purse onto my mom's counter, including the princess book I bought for the girls from the Elf. It was not in my purse. I started thinking about where it could be...and then I remembered taking it out of my pocket...at work. So, I run down to my truck, praying it's in there. And...of course it isn't. So, I get back in my truck and drive back to Jackson Park, which is about 20 minutes from my house. I go to my office. No. I ask the custodian for the keys to the portable. Not in there either. I walk to my friend's classroom. She still happens to be there. I ask her about my phone. She comes and helps me look. Not in the library. Not in the work room. Not in my mailbox. We walk back to my office and she helps me look in there. Nothing...so, I decide it has to be either in my truck, or I've lost it somewhere between school and home. So, I retrace my steps to the parking lot. Then, I go to my truck to start searching. I take out my flashlight and look all over the passenger side. It's not in the seat, or under the seat. It's not on that side. I stand up, lock the door and close it and walk around to the driver's side. I was somewhere at the back of my truck when I realize...I don't have my keys in my hand. Please let them be in my pocket! They weren't. Luckily, I snuck into the school through the gym to my friend's classroom. I called my parents to ask if they could meet me with a spare key. My dad drives the 20 minutes to Jackson Park with my spare and I drive home. I'm tired. I'm cranky. I'm phone-less. I'm a mess. I was ready to move to Austrailia for sure! I have a student that whenever something goes wrong, even a small problem, he often will say, "Today is the worst day of my life!" In jest, I said this to my friend after the key incident. It was a horrible day! The worst day of my life? Probably not. In my thinking about the day's events after I tucked the girls into bed, it made me giggle thinking about my day. It was awful, but it was no where near the worst day of my life. That happened a few years ago. And the lesson that I learned from that day? It puts everything into perspective for me. I am an over-exaggerater sometimes. So, like my little friend, I will often say things like "that was the worst day ever!" or "That's the biggest mistake I've ever made." I used to throw those phrases out all the time. And now when I say them? It seems silly. Today was not the worst day of my life. A lot of things happened that made it not so great, but I will survive the day and be ok! Locking my keys in my car isn't the end of the world. Losing my cell phone has actually been a blessing for now. Sure, I'm panicked that I don't have a phone in my house at this moment, but I haven't gone on Facebook, I haven't received texts, I haven't had to check e-mail. It's been kinda nice! So, when you catch yourself thinking that this is the worst day of your entire life, think hard! Is it? Is your problem a big problem, or a small problem? Sure, it might seem big at the time, but when you give it some perspective, it falls off the wayside. It's not a big deal. You can get through it! That's the funny thing about terrible, horrible, no good very bad days. They get you through the days when the drama's not as hightened. They help you see that it's ok to lock your keys in the car. Worse things could happen... If you need me, you'll have to just stop by and visit! LOL! And if you see a white iPhone with my "Every Play I'm Russellin" Seahawks case, let me know! In the meantime, maybe I should check flights to Austrailia.

Triangles, or Circles?

I graduated with a 3.998 from high school, and scored in the 1300s on my SATs. I was on the Dean's List many times in college. I graduated with honors from grad school. I have my Masters degree. I feel like I am sorta smart, most days...and I always had a fear that one day I would be helping my kids with their homework, and I wouldn't understand it. I just didn't realize that that day would come when Emerson was three and in preschool. I'm sort of kidding, but helping her with her homework tonight had me scratching my head a bit...enough that I took a picture of it and send it to my friend to laugh about. The directions at the top of the paper seemed pretty clear to me: Find and color all of the triangles. Pretty straight forward, right? Well, in the opposite corner of the paper it said: Skill: recognizing circles. It made me giggle while I was watching Emerson color all the triangles. The directions did not match the skill that was supposedly being taught. So, we colored all the triangles and giggled at the directions all night. As I was tucking Amelia into bed, she started giggling all over again. "Mommy, can you believe that her paper said to color the triangles and then tried to trick us into thinking she was learning about circles?" "That is pretty funny, isn't it?" "Yeah...kinda like how Satan tries to trick us, isn't it?" I paused and looked at her for a second...long enough that I could see the connection and to give her time to explain what she was thinking. "Tell me more about that sweetheart." "Well, Satan is always trying to trick us into doing something we shouldn't. Like when we should be reading our Bible, but we decide to watch TV instead. Or like when we should be going to church, but we decide we'd rather sleep in. God is trying to get us to learn something, like the triangles, but Satan is telling us we're learning about circles." Holy cow! Where does this kid come up with this stuff? I really wish I had named my blog something different and take credit for the things that she comes up with. But, instead I get to be the momma that brags about her super smart daughter! She is not only super smart and makes amazing connections, but she also has an amazing faith in our God. She knows her faith, and knows how to make the connections from that faith to the things she needs in her daily walk with him. I shook my head at her and told her she was amazing! She grinned at me and said, "I know! God made me that way!" I gave her a kiss, turned the light off, and headed for bed. It was a long day! This little lesson can apply to many areas of our lives. How many times have you thought that the lesson was about triangles, only to find out it was really about circles. The worksheet is sort of a bad example of this, as I think that the skill was really a typo. But, the basic premise of what I'm trying to stretch this into is there. How many times have you started into a life lesson thinking you were getting triangles, only to discover it is really actually about circles. Growing up, I was always going to be a doctor. I was destined for medical school. I worked hard in high school. I shadowed doctors. I volunteered in hospitals and clinics. I was going to medical school. I started my freshman year at the University of Washington with all four years planned out with what I needed to do to apply to medical school. I was studying triangles. And then, something happened that altered the course of my plan. Triangles weren't going to cut it anymore. And I started down my career path of being a speech language pathologist. Many times in life you start off thinking that the direction of your path is going one way, when really the direction is going to veer off and change entirely. And this doesn't just happen one time. It can happen multiple times. Just when I thought life was all figured out and I was headed to medical school, life threw me a curveball and I changed my plan. And then I started down the path to the new plan, got my job, got married, had babies, and the plan changed again. I started off thinking it was all about triangles, when in reality I was gaining skills on circles. The lesson here in all of this? I think there are several...at least that I can come up with. I'm sure Amelia could present us with 100 more. But MY lesson? The one that is most important in my eyes? Find the joy and humor and the part that makes you laugh in these game changers. Dig up the resilience that it takes to press forward and keep going, even when the plan veers. The points in my life where my plan was changed, the parts where I found out that I was going to be learning about circles, not triangles, were life lessons. They were bumps in the road where God was telling me that His path for me was different than where I thought we were going. I wasn't happy about it. And there are still many days where I'm not happy with it. But, I moved on. I did what I needed to do to get through those moments (I'm still doing what I need to do to get through those moments!) and I'm enjoying the lesson on circles that I'm getting. I have learned so much in my lifetime. Even in the last few years! I have learned lessons that I thought I would never have to! I have learned things that I never wanted to! I have learned things that I never thought I would even believe, let alone learn about! And the ride has been amazing! Through all of the struggles and heartache. Through all of the path changing and life-altering moments, I wouldn't change a thing. I gained my two babies. I met people, and became close to people that I may not have ever had the chance to meet. I have gained people in my life that have been crucial to my moving on and moving through. And I am blessed! As frustrating as it was to see that I wasn't learning about triangles after all, I would not change a thing. The lessons that I have learned have built me into who I am today! I CAN be flexible in my thinking. I CAN learn about circles AND triangles. I CAN survive ANYTHING! So, take THAT, common core...

Make it Count!

I still have a mailbox. I've thought of switching to a P.O. Box many times, but the thought of having to make one more stop on my way home to get my mail makes me crazy! And in order to have that mailbox and feel like it's more secure, it is not in front of my house. It's around the corner in front of my parents house, clustered with a couple other mailboxes. This placement confuses so many people. I have the county approved blue reflective sign at the bottom of my driveway with my house numbers posted. But people still get confused about how to find my house. My parents live next door to us. And quite frequently I have to call them. I ask them to check their porch for deliveries that have been delivered because they are not at my house. Oftentimes, they get the organic groceries that I have delivered. And even the pizza man gets confused. My parents driveway isn't marked at all, but they tend to always get our stuff. I had to share that story to tell you this next one, which is the actual basis for my blog post tonight. I order a lot of things and I think that I have a new mail carrier, because more often than not, I'll get the little brown postcard attached to my door saying that they tried to deliver a package, but they won't leave it. The reason? No house numbers. REALLY?? It's at the bottom of my driveway...posted to the fencepost at the bottom of my driveway. My house numbers are not actually on my house, but I never thought this would be so difficult as it is for people. So, I had to go to the post office. Friday, after school, I had the choice to work on progress reports, or go to the post office and head home a little early. After many attempts to work, and many interruptions, I decided to just head home. I called ahead and ordered Chinese food, and headed for the post office. I got there around 4:30 and walked into the lobby. I was met by a line of about 30 people, and one...window...open. I was impatient just looking at the line, but I got in line. I needed to pick up my package, and I also needed stamps. My Christmas cards have been addressed for about three weeks now, but I can't send them out because I didn't have stamps. The line was moving ok. I pulled out my phone and started checking Facebook. I was half listening to the man in front of me. He was cheerfully talking to the woman in front of him about Friday the 13th. Then he told us how he was going to go home and wrap lumpia for a party. People began joking with each other. I put my phone away and watched what was going on. Instead of the typical hurried, anxious, tired, angry mob the people in line were talking, making friends in line. There was a sweet little old lady in line a few people in front of us. She reminded me of my grandmother. She got to the front of the line and mailed her packages. She also needed stamps. My attention turned to the man behind me. He was sighing heavily and muttering under his breath about how ridiculous it was there was only one window open. Grandma was at the counter asking to look at the Christmas stamps. She was shaking her head and telling the postman how she just couldn't decide which picture she wanted. I smiled. The man behind said some not nice words and said, "Lady, they're just stamps! Pick one and get out of the way!" I turned around, as did the rest of the line, and frowned at him. He looked at all of us and said, "What?" The man in front of me said, "It's OK! We're making friends! And there is no greater decision than the stamps for your Christmas cards. It's the one time of year we tell everyone that we love them, that we miss them, that we let people know how we're doing. That deserves a good stamp." I could feel my heart filling with love, and my eyes filling with tears. I was that man when I walked into the post office. All I wanted was to get my Chinese food and get home to my girls. But that interaction was important for me to witness! This weekend, I slowed down a bit. I'm still a little panicked at all the things that I have to get done, but mostly things at work. The girls and I had a fabulous weekend, decorating our house, getting ready for Christmas. We didn't get done. We didn't get close to done, but we spent time together. We slowed down for just a little bit and captured memories. They helped me unwrap things from our Christmas boxes. They wanted to hear stories. I got to tell them how we have a tradition to buy one Christmas village house every Christmas. I told them about my sweet grandma and how she collected mice. And when her house burned down, her mice were salvaged and how I got her mice. I put each old, broken, worn mouse on my mantle, and cried an ocean of tears as I thought about her house. I used to sit in the chair next to the wall where her mice sat and looked at all of the funny little mice. I told the girls about the Christmas plate from 2006, Brian and my first Christmas together as husband and wife, and how I was pregnant with Amelia that Christmas. So many special memories. As I was tucking Amelia into bed tonight, I told her how much I loved her and what a fun weekend we had. We kissed and I turned off her light. Then, "Mommy, just one more thing! I'm kinda sad!" "Why, sweetheart?" "It was a good weekend, but we didn't get very much done. Why did it have to go so fast? I think every weekend we have is shorter than the one before!" "It does go fast, Amelia, but it's not about what we get done or how much time we have. It's about the time that we got to spend together and how we spent the time. I had a great weekend. And no, we didn't get nearly enough done, but it doesn't matter! I loved sharing stories with you. I loved that we danced to the snowman iPod speaker. I love that you helped me put together decorations that bring my the best memories ever. So, it did go too fast, but let's look at it as getting us closer to the next weekend we get together, which brings us to Christmas break, OK? "OK, mommy! I can't wait to stay home with you!" "I can't wait either! I love you..." "I love you too!" And as I walked to the living room to complete a few more tasks I had to do before bed, I smiled. The man in the post office is right, and I have felt it more this year than ever. The past few years I haven't wanted to bring things out. Decorating was too hard. Going through boxes was too difficult. There was too much and I just couldn't handle it. This year, we're not getting done quickly either, but it's not about wanting to. It's about savoring every minute of the holidays. It does go fast! Time goes too fast! There isn't time to do anything. And more often than not, I find myself saying that. There are so many things that people feel like the HAVE TO get done, but I'm sure if you think about it, it can wait! Christmas comes whether all 25 Santas are out or not. It'll be here with or without a Christmas tree. And Santa can eat Oreos just as easily as he can eat fancy homemade sugar cookies. And if you try to do it all, you get lost in the process. Don't!! A few of my teacher friends and I were talking at lunch the other day about how there's not time to just come home from work and enjoy Christmas with our kids. And that's wrong! We need to make that a priority. I'm not an expert and I don't have the magic that will tell you how to make that happen. But I am telling you to make your own magic and try and figure it out! Make time to make those moments happen. We have a huge basket of Christmas books. We haven't read them yet. We need to! We have plans to go to Zoolights with friends. We haven't yet. There's no time where everyone can go. We need to! I haven't sent out the Christmas cards. We need to! And when I look at my plain, old stamps I think of how that played out in the post office. I need to be more like that little old grandma and make buying those stamps the most important thing in the world at that moment. And I also need to be more like the man in front of me, who reminded a whole post office full of people that there should be nothing more important than those stamps. Who reminded us all that we need to slow down and be better people. Why do we wait until Christmas to check on the people that we love? Why do we only choose stamps at this time of year? We're busy! And I get that. So, since we only do it one time a year, we should make it count. I guess that's the message I want to get across more than anything. Make it count! Don't let the time get sucked away. Don't let the cards be another chore on your to do list. Don't let household chores and work tasks get in the way of the reason for the season. I hung our nativity countdown calendar on the wall and in my frenzy of trying to get things done, I snapped at Amelia when she asked if we could put the days up for the 500th time. And then I thought of post office guy. I set down what I was doing and walked over and took it off the wall. We sat down in the chair and did the calendar together. Because that's what I've been preaching on. The reason for the season...stop and make the most of it! Make it count. Because it does go way too fast and before we know it, it'll be gone! Make those memories. Figure out what it important! Once you do, there will be a way! Make it count!

Buzz!

Tonight's Amelia moment was her excitement over what they learned in Science. We talked about it most of the evening. It started off with her usual hinting about what her favorite subject is, followed by a hundred "Guess whats" and "You'll never guesses", and then a few hours of discussing her science topic. "Mommy! You'll never guess what we talked about in science today!" "Umm...dinosaurs?" "Mommy...don't be ridiculous. OK, I'll give you a hint. It's an animal and I'm allergic to it." "Dogs?" "Mommy! I'm VERY allergic to it." "Ohh...bees?" "Yup! It was so cool! Did you know there are some bees without a stinger? Those would be my most favorite, of course, because...well, you know...they couldn't sting me." "Did you talk about all kinds of bees? Like wasps and hornets?" "Mostly we talked about honeybees..." And the rest of our night would go between laying on the floor playing with our nativity scene Little People and hearing random facts about bees. I learn a lot from my little first grader, and her favorite subject is science. It used to be recess and lunch when she first started school, but her teacher, Ms. D has really encouraged her passion for science, which I think is wonderful! I love the things that we talk about, and I've loved all of the things that I've gotten to learn about just from listening to Amelia talk and also from the google sessions that are required after. We finished the evening with our regular routine, intermittantly talking about bees. I listened to her speak excitedly about all the things she'd learned about bees and it made me smile. She is pretty allergic to bees and her reaction gets worse each time she is stung. She got stung by one about a year ago. She was playing outside barefoot and stepped on one in the clover. I brought her in the kitchen and pulled the stinger out. I washed it and made a meat tenderizer paste and she went on her way playing. About an hour later we did bath and she told me her foot hurt. Not my proudest mom moment, but I patted her head and told her she was fine. She got out of the tub and was hopping on one foot. I rolled my eyes and told her to stop it, that it wasn't that bad. We read our stories and we were walking to her room and she asked me to carry her because her foot hurt. I shook my head and told her that she was fine and she needed to stop. She crawled to her bed and I started to cover her up and tuck her in when I noticed her leg. Her foot was swollen so badly that you couldn't tell where one toe ended and the other began. He foot was at least three sizes bigger than it should be. It was hot to the touch and her leg was red all the way up her leg just above her knee. I called my parents who came and stayed with Emerson and my dad and I took off for the ER. I felt awful! They checked her leg and checked her lungs and made sure she wasn't having any respiratory distress. And the doctor wrote me a prescription for an EpiPen. I smiled and told him that we already had them stashed all over the house and the car and my purse and...he smiled and said, go fill it. You'll need them! So I did... When I took Amelia in for allergy testing, they did the bees first. It's just through a simple blood test (which Amelia HATES!). The results of that blood test indicated that Amelia is very allegic to bees...all six types they test for, except for yellow jackets, which the allergist said he would guess that was a fluke, and that I shouldn't let her get stung by those either! Not like I'm going to ask the bee what type it is if it stings her. So, of course right after allergy testing comes summer and how many stings did we get? Ugh...so scary. She never goes barefoot anymore. But, she didn't see the one that was getting a drink on the water faucet handle when she grabbed for it. And who would have thought there would be a hornet in the pile of stuffed animals in the playroom that stung her three times. And then there was the honeybee that climbed into her boot while we were playing outside. Poor kid! Luckily, our reactions haven't warranted an EpiPen injection...yet. But like I said, each sting gives us a worse reaction. And the type of bee definitely matters to her. Like the hornet? Three times on the leg and we only got welts on her leg right around where the stings were and it didn't do much more than that. The honeybee? One sting on her ankle...the stinger was still in it so I scraped it off with a credit card (which is a trick the allergist told me. It takes the stinger out without leaving the poison behind in the skin.) I packed it with meat tenderizer, elevated her leg, put ice packs on it, and gave her Benedryl immediately and it was still a bit scary. She gets so swollen and you can watch and see the poison creep up her leg. So, having her learn about bees and talk about them excitedly was amazing to me. She kind of hates them and is scared of them. So, I'm tucking her into bed tonight and she's throwing some more bee facts at me. I smile and say, "Hey Amelia, it sounds like you are really interested in bees." "Yeah, I am! They are awesome!" "So, do you think learning about them makes you less afraid of the bees?" "Mommy, what are you talking about? I'm not afraid of bees!" "You're not?? What about this summer when you refused to go outside for a while after you got stung because you didn't want to risk getting stung again." "Oh, that. I'm not afraid of bees! I think bees are cool. I'm just afraid of their stingers!" I smiled at my girl and told her she had a very good point! She rolled her eyes at me and said, "Good one mommy...get it? Point...stinger..." I shook my head, kissed her and told her I loved her. She said it back and rolled over and went to sleep. Her statement made me giggle (not the corny joke...the not being afraid of bees, just their stingers) but then, like usual, it made me think. And the more I thought about it, the more profound the information I got from it. Just think about it for a minute. What if we compartmentalized our fears and stressors like that for everything. Would it make life simpler? Easier to deal with? What if I thought hard about my fears and rather than hating and fearing the entire bee, I was just afraid of the stinger? Would we give things a second glance if we didn't fear the big picture, but just the little pieces that actually cause the hurt and pain. I feel this thought goes much further than just the things we fear. What about arguments we have with others? Disagreements we have. I know that in discipline, we often tell our children, "I love you, but I don't love what you did" or something similar along those lines. The bee thing is the same idea. Don't fear the whole bee, because if you do, you may miss the good things about the bee. And when you really stop and think, you find out why bees sting in the first place, to protect themselves. So, when Amelia brought up the fact that there are bees that don't have stingers, I told her I was sad for them. Amelia looked at me and asked me "why?" I told her because they didn't have a way to protect themselves, what if something was trying to kill them. "Umm, Mommy...they have a backup plan. They can just fly away! Which I would really prefer because you don't need an EpiPen for that!" True story, Amelia...luckily Amelia has her EpiPen as backup. And we have our own "EpiPens" to fix the crises that we face day to day. But as we are grumbling and complaining and worrying about what might happen, we need to remember the bee. Look for the good, and instead of blaming the whole bee, just blame that stinger. It hurts, but just for a little bit, and there is much more to the bee than that stinger!