Mermaids, Unicorns, and Fairies

When you have two little girls, your life revolves around fairy tales. At least ours does. We are always watching movies about princes and princesses. Certain Disney movies reign supreme in our house. Hercules, the Lion King, the Little Mermaid, Snow White...we watch them over and over and over again. We play mermaids in the bathtub. Amelia's favorite books right now are still the fairy books. We just finished the pet fairy series, and she can't wait to start the next set. She loves to draw and make books and write stories and they're all about My Little Pony, or fairies. Her story starters in her first grade class are all about fairies. One time, the teacher accidentally put another student's story in her folder. This story was about the Seahawks and football and I was so excited that she was writing a story about football. I stuck in on the fridge with a magnet, displaying it proudly. Amelia walked through and said, "Um, mommy...why do you have Ryan's football story stuck to the fridge?" "Oh...Ryan's story? Why do you have Ryan's story?" "I don't know...I guess it was a mistake. Why is it on the fridge?" "Oh, I don't know. I thought you wrote it." Her mouth dropped open as she stared at me and shook her head. "Mommy, why on earth would I write about football? I only write about fairies." I should have known this... But, back to the topic...we are always talking about fairies. Tonight, after we read Harriet the Hamster Fairy, I tucked her into bed and she looked at me with her sad face, which is the prompt for me to ask what is wrong. "Amelia, what's wrong? Why are you sad?" "Because..." "Because why?" "Because...I just wish so bad that fairies were real." "Well, who said that they weren't?" "Well, duh mommy...I've never seen one before so they can't be real." "Really? That's your test for if something is real? Do you think that Jesus is real?" Amelia gasped at me and said, "Of course he is real, mommy. Why would you even say that?" "Well, have you ever seen him?" "No." "So, that theory doesn't work, does it?" "I guess not, but do you really think you should be comparing Jesus to fairies?" Thinking that she had a good point, I said, "No, I don't think I should compare Jesus to fairies because Jesus is for sure real, but we can't be too sure about fairies, can we?" "I don't think they're real...but Joe in my class, he says that they are real! He says that he saw one before. I wasn't sure if he was trying to trick me, but he wasn't smiling or anything! So, I just have to keep looking." "That's right, Amelia! It makes me happy that you believe! Because I do too!" I kissed her on the forehead and started to head out of the door. "Mommy, just one more thing!" "What's that, Amelia?" "Do you know why I want there to be fairies so bad?" "Why, Amelia?" "Because they are good and fun and magical. And I think that there are too many things in real life that are just the opposite. Like my daddy dying, and like you not feeling well and having seizures, and people getting sick, and Lisa breaking her leg and being sick, and so many people hurting and feeling bad. I think we all could use a little fairy in our lives. And not just fairies. I think we need fairies, but I think we also need mermaids and unicorns...everything that is good and fun and magical. We need those things because life is too hard. Things are bad, and sad, and just too much. I'd rather talk about fairies than about not having a daddy. And wouldn't it be so fun if we could just think about unicorns and not cancer or being sick. So, I think we should look harder! We need to look harder for fairies and unicorns and mermaids! We need to believe that there really are these things. Because if Joe can see a fairy, I should be able to, don't ya think?" I smiled at my wise little girl and agreed with her. "We should look harder, sweetheart!" "Yeah, but mommy? We can only look for fairies or mermaids or unicorns. You know why? With our luck, we'd find a giant or a goblin or a Go-Gurt." "Did you say Go-Gurt? Like yogurt is a bad thing?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No, mommy...you know...a Go-Gurt. Like Shrek." "Oh! An Ogre...it's Ogre, honey." "Whatever, mommy...just avoid them, OK? We don't need anymore bad around here! Sheesh! I love you, mommy!" "I love you, Amelia." And I walked down the hallway to the living room. And once again, I cried. We do need magic in our lives! We all do. There were so many instances just today of times when we need magic. I have students who are struggling with death, and their mommas are too. I have teacher friends who are spending holidays missing loved ones. I have friends who are sick, friends who have cancer, friends who are injured. People are tired and stressed and worried and pressured. And in the midst of it all, I cry! I'm a crier anyway, but it's gotten worse lately and I'm not sure why. Other than I'm tired and stressed and worried and pressured. Other than I'm heading into the holiday stretch, which is hard. Other than my girl is talking more and more and I'm worried for her. There is just so much going on, but Amelia is right! We need to look harder. We need to look harder for the fairies and the mermaids and the unicorns. And not literally those things, but the happiness and joy and youth that they represent! We need to look harder for the things that made us happy and peaceful and young! There is so much hurt and hate and anger and angst in the world. Politics is stressful and the direction that our country is headed. Work is full of stressors, for all workers I'm sure, but especially for teachers and people in education. There is just so much heartache and tragedy in the world. Sometimes it's hard to stop and think about the magic of life! Because there is magic in everyday things. And I am lucky to have two little girls who remind me about the magic each and everyday. Working doesn't give me much time with them during the week, but when I am home it's pretending and magic and make-believe. It warms my heart when I reach into their hampers at the end of the week and the only clothes that are in there are pajamas and princess dresses...sign of a successful week! So, I hope that you take the time for magic...take the time to pause and really look for the fairies and mermaids and unicorns in your life...and take the time for prayer. Prayers for others in need, prayers for peace and joy, and especially at this time of year, prayers of Thanksgiving for the many blessings that we have in life. For although I am quick to see the losses and think about the hardships, I need to remember the blessings. For I am indeed blessed! I have a roof over our heads and a lovely home and yard for my girls to grow. I have a great job working with kids that I love. I have two of the most beautiful, smart, amazing little girls on the planet. I have a wonderful, loving family who are amazing and so important to all of us. I have the best friends anyone could ask for! I am blessed! I have it all! And I am so lucky to be able to be on the search for fairies. Take time to join me, because it's the best things in the world! And they're out there somewhere.

Mangrove Trees

I know I've talked before about Amelia's love of science, or even just her love of learning. She is so interested in anything science and the enthusiasm she has for the topics that they discuss is contagious. She loves talking about the topics that they are discussing in school. Just in the blog we've discussed giraffes, bats, and other topics that Amelia has come home excited about. Well, there's a new one to add to the list. Amelia and I had only been face to face about five minutes tonight when she started in sharing what she had learned. "Mommy! Guess what? We started studying a new topic tonight. Guess what it is?" "Hmm...I don't know, Amelia!" "No, really guess!" "Umm...OK. Is it..." "It's mangrove trees!" "Mangrove trees?" "Yes. But just to make sure you're saying it right, it's MangroVE trees...not mango trees. Mangos are fruit, and have nothing to do with what I'm about to tell you. These trees are AMAZING! They're called walking trees and they grow in the water and they are mostly in rivers. There are animals that live in them, and do you know that people, yes people, are destroying the mangrove forests and causing them to die?? They're just pulling them right up out of the water and there are animals and other creatures that live in them, and people just don't care about them either. They animals have no where else to go and they are dieing and people just don't care that bad things are happening to these beautiful trees." and the talk about mangrove, not mango, trees went on and on for like the first 15 minutes I was home, at least. She was horrified that no one was interested in what was happening to the trees, or the the animals that lived in the trees either. Later that night as I'm tucking her into bed, she says, "Mommy, just one more thing...Mommy, it's sad! I don't think it's right that people destroy things like the mangrove trees. Why can't we just be respectful with God's creation! It doesn't make any sense to be mean and cruel to plants and animals! We should love everything that God made and not destroy it. How would people feel if the places they lived were destroyed and no one cared. It's just not right." "You're right, Amelia. It's not right. So, all we can do is do our part to make sure that we're not destroying God's creation. Clean up after ourselves. Remember too be careful. Leave things the way we found them." "Hmm...just like our hearts." "What, Amelia? What are you talking about?" "Well, I'm worried about people destroying the trees and the animals. But, people are so mean to each other sometimes, that we destroy each others' hearts. Right, mommy?" "Sadly, you are right Amelia. We are not nice to each other and we destroy each other. It's just like bullying, or teasing, or being mean to each other. Why tear each other down when we could just build each other up?" "Mommy, I was worried about how I was going to save the mangrove trees. But maybe I should worry about how I'm going to save the people that are important to us! I know that we've kind of had a hard time the last few years, and our hearts sometimes feel like they are broken. But, I think if we try hard, we can help others with our broken hearts and show them how we mended them and they're not broken anymore." With tears in my eyes, I kissed Amelia's forehead and told her how proud I was of her. She is right. We have had a hard time lately, and our hearts have been broken, but it's just like the blog post from yesterday where I talk about walking the line. I know that we have a heavy, heart breaking story. I know that our story is filled with people tearing us down, and wanting us to be destroyed, but there were so many people that built us back up. So many people that bolstered us up in our trials and tribulation, and now that we are stronger and better than before, we all want to help others through our tragedy. This blog is one little piece of that. Maybe someone someday will read our story and will read some of the advice that we give, and will be bolstered up by our advice. Life is a delicate dance. Sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow, but always you dance! Don't let the haters tear our your mangrove forest. Fight for it! Know that there are a lot of things you can do to protect the forest. And fight for it! Because the fight now will be hard, but when you save a piece of yourself, or a piece of someone else, you'll realize it was worth it!

I Walk the Line

When the idea for this blog first started hatching, it began as a conversation in the workroom at my school between a few other teachers. I tossed the idea out there after regaling them with a funny story about Amelia. I shared that I thought it would be fun to share the stories that Amelia and I share right before she goes to bed becase she is so wise, so smart...but mostly she is simply hysterical. She is able to fire off quips and comebacks that make me giggle, and I wanted to share that with others. I always enjoy sharing Amelia-isms and I often posted stories about my girls to Facebook. These stories would eventually be shared with others who are not on Facebook and many of them would tell me that I needed to write them down. So, my thoughts about the blog, tied with people telling me to write down the stories from Amelia, sorta led to this blog thing. But then, something happened. My girl's stories right before bed switched. They went from the funny, light-hearted stories that I would often share at the workroom counter, to serious, heavy discussions that have led to some great blog posts (if I must say so myself...haha!). And the things that we discuss right before bed have given me some great "moral of the story" type lessons that have been great reminders for me, but have also been thought-provoking for some of my readers from comments I have gotten. But, I have to admit, there is a fine line between something that I should share, and something that I should not. And the line isn't always that clear. So, I debate...I bargain...I lament over which stories I share in order to help myself grow, or to potentially help someone else grow, and which stories remain sacred between a mother and a daughter. There were a few articles back where I posed the question about sharing the stories with others and if that would potentially make my daughter resent me. If my sharing stories with the internet would someday make her not want to share with me anymore. And I would never want to compromise that with Amelia. Her little spirit and her heart have already been through so much in her six years on this earth, that I would never want to be the cause of another blow. So, every night when I type my post for the night, I walk the line...I walk the line between a mom and a blogger. I walk the line between sharing and oversharing. I walk the line between potentially saving a stranger who reads our story and potentially losing the trust of my daughter some day. And I think that so far I have walked on the side of caution. Each story that I type is delicately written, read through a few dozen times, read from my perspective as well as trying to read it through my teenage daughter's eyes in ten years. And I hope that the stories that I am writing walk on the right side of that line, the side of the line that I want to be on with my kids. I struggled with this post tonight, because a conversation did happen tonight with Amelia. And this is the second night in a row that this conversation happened. And as much as I think it is important to share the conversation that we had, I just can't. I know, as a writer, that this is probably unfair to my readers. To lead into something that is a struggle, to tell you the time and thought that has gone into figuring out if I should share this story, and then to leave you hanging, but perhaps sometime in the near future this will be shared. Perhaps this is something that I am going to have to think on for longer than a couple hours. It is a tough line to tow. How exactly should I determine what to share and what to not? What are some topics that are off limits? When I think about myself and which topics I don't want discussed as an adult, the burden is ten times that when it is regarding a child, especially my child. And I'm sure not telling you, but leading into it with all this hype and mystery is probably making imaginations run wild with assumptions. And I think that's OK because the events of our life the past three years wouldn't be something that I would ever dream up in a million years. The story of how we all got to where we are today would never be something that I ever would have picked out as my story. But maybe this is true in anyone's life? Perhaps when you look at the events that got you to where you are right now in life, it's most likely not how you would have written the story! I know that this would not be my story. Well, not all of it. It's ended up pretty good. Speech therapy wasn't what I wanted to do when I went off to college, but I love my profession. Jackson Park was not the school I was hoping for, but it was the one available when I got hired, and I wouldn't pick another school now. Brian was the biggest nerd I'd met in my entire life and he wasn't my type at all, but I married him, and I now have the two best things in my entire life, my girls. Having to go through the death of the man that I married was horrific, but I wouldn't trade my experiences for not having to go through that, especially knowing that I wouldn't have Amelia and Emerson if I did. Think about your life. I'm sure that there is something in it that you would have done differently. Something that you maybe want to go back and change. But what would happen if you did? What would be missing in your life? What would be erased? What would be different? Life is unpredictable. And there is always a fine line that we walk every day. And there was a story to tell tonight and one day, I'll share it. It might be tomorrow, or it might be further along in the blog post. But for tonight, I need to pray on the topic, figure out if it's something that I share, if it's something that could help someone some day. The girls and I have experiences that can help others, and I see the value in that. I just don't want to share something to alter the course of the path we are supposed to take. Because the choices we make do impact the paths that we are led down. And we've kind of been on a wild ride. I don't want to do anything that make that worse. In the meantime, know that we are making our choices based on prayer and conversatios with each other. And sometimes, every once in a while, conversations with the readers of this blog. I enjoy the time that I share with my girls. The deep conversations that we have are eye-opening, and many of them I wish I didn't have to have with my six year old. But I keep having them, because we are growing and healing and getting through this together. In the meantime, I'm hoping for a funny story soon! But in the meantime, I walk the line...and I hope I don't lean too far in one direction.

Eternal Father

There were many pastors at my wedding. There was one up front that actually put the work in for us and married us. He went through marital counseling classes with us. And he helped us plan the wedding, and wrote our sermon, and did the officiant part. And then there were several there as guests of our wedding. Pastors who used to be pastors at our church. Pastors that I had grown up with in our church. Pastors who loved and cared for me and my family. I loved them all, and I was honored to have them be a part of our special day. They were all special to me for many reasons, and they still are special to me. I am thankful for Pastor Pulse for guiding me through many years of my teenage/college life. He was always there for me if I needed him. He talked me through many relationships, many breakups, many crises and I am so thankful for him. He walked me through my relationship with Brian. He married us, and wrote a wonderful sermon that I still look back on and read. Shortly after he married us, he took a Call to another position and left our church, but his last baptism at Peace was Amelia's, and I was so proud! I still have a strong connection to him, even though we don't speak often. I miss him...lots... Pastor Merz was the first pastor that I knew at Peace. He visited my Kindergarten class often when I started school at Peace. He had a German Shepherd and brought her into our classroom. He was a bearded man that reminded me of Santa. He had a hearty laugh and always gave you a thumbs up and a wink. He was a die hard Cougar fan and always told me he still loved me, even after I told him I had gotten into UW. From the first day he met me, he called me his little teacher, and a piece of me will always hope that he is proud of me and the choice that I made to work in education. He passed away a few years ago. There are certain songs that we sing at church that bring tears to my eyes as I think of him singing so robustly behind the pulpit...mostly What a Friend We Have in Jesus...and How Great Thou Art. Pastor Huelle is my current pastor. I was honored to have him baptize Emerson and welcome her into God's family. He was such a huge help around Brian's death and planning his funeral with me. He is the reason that I am back and church and enjoying it again, and I don't think he knows that. I don't share as much with him because I have been trying to find my way through this world for the past few years, but he is the reason that I have enjoyed church again. My girls thoroughly enjoy church, especially since he started the children's sermons. They feel oh so important as they make their way to the front of the church to hear his lessons. And I'm sure the sermon suckers he hands out at the end are a great incentive also. Pastor Ross was the assistant pastor at our church at one time. He was at our wedding also, and was also an important part of our lives. He is soft-spoken and kind and I also had many great chats with him. And still do when our paths cross sporadically. There were a few times when I needed to talk and I would drive to his little church in Seabeck to sit and visit with him. I am thankful for him as well. But, tonight, my heart and thoughts are with Pastor Hendricks. He was a Navy Chaplain at one time, I believe, and he filled in at our church when our regular pastor would be gone. He reminded me of my grandpa, and I looked to him as a grandpa. He was good for hugs always. I remember when he would fill in, I could not believe how long the man could pray! His prayers always seemed to be like twenty minutes longer than his sermons. My sister and I would exchange sideways glances like, "Really? We have to pray for each individual flower?" and then we would giggle and feel badly for making fun of prayer in church. He was such a sweet man, and he and his wife were so in love. He did so much for our church. And he wore overalls...just like my real grandpa. I looked to him like he was my own grandpa. Overalls and a hat and a hug and that's all I needed. The verbs in this paragraph are past tense because Mert passed away this morning. My mom called me at work this morning to let me know that he was gone. That he had died. He was so sick, and my first thought was he is so much better off, and then my thoughts turned to the selfish thoughts of, I want him here. I want to see him one more time. When was the last time I saw him? When was the last time I hugged him? And my heart breaks. And I cry. He meant so much to me, so much to my family...and even though we maybe made faces at his forty minute prayers, he taught me a lot about faith. He taught me a lot about MY faith, and about prayer, and in my reflection of this great man, I realize that I need to get back to the basic of prayer that he taught us. He was fervent in his prayers, and I am lacking and struggle with that piece. The song that immediately comes to mind when I think of Mert is the Navy Hymn. We often ended our services that he preached at with Eternal Father, Strong to Save...I know he's in a better place. When my mom and I were talking this afternoon about Mert again, we both said that there is no doubt where he is right now...rejoicing at the gates of heaven. No longer in pain, or suffering. And as amazing as that image is, it doesn't make it easier on those left here. My thoughts and prayers are with Mert's wife, sweet Martha, and the rest of his family. My prayers are with all of them. My heart breaks right now, and I am so sad. I know this will pass, but I hope that Mert knew what an impact he made on me, because he certainly did! He will be greatly missed...in his overalls and his cap, just like my grandpa. So, tonight's one more thing mommy moment comes in the form of admiration for pastors. We had family art night at our school tonight. It was a great time, and we got to do some fun artwork together as a family, with my parents and my girls and friends from the school. As I'm tucking Amelia into bed, she smiles and she says, "Mommy, that was the best night, wasn't it?" I smiled and said, "It really was, Amelia! You're such a talented artist and it was fun working on that project with you." Amelia smiled and said, "Do you know what is such a great thing, mommy? Pastor Huelle and Mrs. Huelle really care about me. Do you know that?" "I do, Amelia! We are very lucky to have them in our lives and at our church, aren't we?" "Yes, we really are! I don't know what I would do without them!" "I don't either, Amelia." And as tears began to flow down my cheeks, my sweet Amelia not knowing that Mert passed away, not even knowing how Mert was I don't think, I said, "Make sure you tell them that, Amelia...that's important to do!" "Why, mommy?" "Because you never know when you might not be able to do that anymore. You have to tell the people that you love how important they are to you. Say it often, and always mean it!" "Because they could leave us? Like die?" "Well, we don't know for sure. That's in God's timing. It's just super important to always tell people you love them. And how much they mean to you." "I will, mommy. I love Pastor and Mrs. Huelle! And I love you too!" "I love you too, Amelia. With all my heart." and not able to hold my tears in any longer for the day, I left Amelia's room and wept in grief. Grief for Pastor Mert. Grief for my grandpa. Grief for the hurt of Mert's family, and the other members of our church. My heart is broken...so sad to know that Mert is gone. But as I'm typing this out, I also see the blessing, in that he is with his Lord and Savior, just where we wants to be! And there is no doubt, that he is there, waiting for Martha, but rejoicing in being with Jesus. There is no doubt... Eternal Father, Strong to save, Whose arm hath bound the restless wave, Who bid'st the mighty Ocean deep Its own appointed limits keep; O hear us when we cry to thee, for those in peril on the sea.

The Walking Dead

I was pretty sheltered from bad TV shows and movies when I was growing up. Many of the TV shows that my parents let us watch are the very same shows that my children are watching now. My Little Pony, Strawberry Shortcake, Sesame Street...it's fun to be able to have an excuse to watch the cartoons again. My parents were very deliberate in what we were and weren't allowed to watch. My first adult film was when I was well into my teenage years, and was Pretty Woman, which by today's standards is very tame. I too am very careful with what I let my children watch. Amelia didn't watch TV the first few years of her life. We just didn't allow it. So much of the research today says that TV and electronics too early in life can be dangerous for children, potentially causing language difficulties, learning disabilities, and maybe even Autism, depending on what research you believe. So, I limited Amelia's viewing of TV. Emerson? Hmm...it was a difficult task with two babies. Brian passed away when Emerson was six months old so I wasn't as careful about not putting Emerson in front of a television, or handing her an iPad. But I still was very careful about what they were allowed to watch. Amelia never really wanted to watch anything but The Little Einsteins. Emerson's favorites are the Fresh Beat Band, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and Max and Ruby. We really don't veer too far off of this list, but I am very careful. Caillou barely makes the cut because he is mouthy to his parents, is a whiner, and I'm often finding myself calling him a brat. LOL! I don't allow Spongebob...or Rugrats...or Phineas and Ferb. And please don't think that I'm criticizing you if you allow your childred to watch these shows. I just don't! There are certain aspects of these shows that I don't agree with. So, my girls don't get to watch them. So, imagine my shock and horror when today, during one of my group sessions with some second graders, one of them started talking about the most recent episode of The Walking Dead. I paused, looked at them and said, "What's The Walking Dead?" Now, I have never watched this show. I don't watch much TV myself. (Remember...sheltered?) The only show that I follow religiously is Grey's Anatomy. But, I have heard bits and pieces from people. I knew it was about zombies. And thanks to Pinterest, I saw something that did a comparison of The Walking Dead to Toy Story, so I had a frame of reference, but still had no idea about the show. One of the kids at the table drops his mouth open and said, almost in disgust, "What do you mean what's The Walking Dead? You've never seen the show?" "Um...no, I haven't." "Mrs. Duncan! You should watch it. It's about zombies and people that aren't zombies trying to not get attacked by the zombies. It's so cool! You should watch it." And then, there was like a ten minute conversation bewteen these three second graders about The Walking Dead, and some guy named Rick, and how awesome the show was. There was talk of blood and guts and how gross that one part was. And I just couldn't stand it anymore... "Your parents let you watch this show?!" Again, I try super hard to not judge, but from what I was hearing, I wasn't sure this was an appropriate show for seven year olds to be watching. "Yeah! We watch it together sometimes. They think it's cool too!" So, we moved on with our game, and the class ended. I finished my day and came home, cooked dinner, did bath, and tucked my still slightly sickly six year old into bed. It's funny how my days sometimes just tie right together when Amelia's one more thing mommy moment was, "Mommy, why can't we watch Grey's Anatomy with you anymore?" Oh yeah...I didn't explain that part. Well, this summer when I was trying to catch up with Grey's Anatomy before the start of the new season so I could actually watch it on TV like a normal person, the girls would catch some pieces of the episodes with me. And then the plane crash episode came on, and for the first time, my girls were exposed to some TV that I'm ashamed they saw. So, as I'm judging one parent on The Walking Dead, I should not cast stones because I too make mistakes and make poor choices. So, tonight when Amelia asked that question, I kind of felt like it was God's way of saying, "Um...soften your heart lady. You're not perfect either, remember?" I explained to Amelia that Grey's Anatomy was a show for mommies to watch, and that there were a lot of grownup topics in the TV show that she was too little to be watching. She asked me why I used to let her watch it and I just told her that that was a mistake that mommy made, and that I wasn't comfortable with her seeing some of the things that were happening on the TV, and that it might be bad for her nightmares, and that I shouldn't have let her watch the shows before either. She said something about God being sad when icky shows were on, and I told her yes, that God doesn't want us to fill out hearts and our minds with bad images or bad thoughts or bad words. She nodded, asked to say a quick prayer to ask for forgiveness, and then wanted her kiss goodnight so she could get to bed. In my guilt of being too judgemental with these parents, I decided that maybe The Walking Dead wasn't so bad. Maybe I was being awful and judging parents wrongly. So, I searched for the show on Netflix. What luck! It was there. So, I got my chocolate for the night, and sat down to see what this show was all about. Maybe seven year olds have vivid imaginations and it wouldn't be so bad! I pressed play on the Blu Ray player and snuggled in for the show to start. And oh...my...goodness...I think I made it through maybe 30 mintues before I couldn't believe what I was seeing! It was gory and bloody and awful. There was shooting and stabbing and swearing. There were vivid images of bullets tearing through flesh. There were awful, disgusting zombie images with body parts that were gross. I was wrong to judge those parents, because I shouldn't do that, but I still could not believe that there were second graders watching this show. Second graders! Seven year old babies watching zombies tearing into a horse. Little boys and girls witnessing people getting picked off with a rifle like it was no big deal. Picture Amelia sitting next to me watching the show made me sad for these kiddos. I worry that watching the Disney movies will give Amelia nightmares, and these babies are watching this?! It made me very sad. I know that we are all different in our parenting styles. I know that there are some people that are reading this blog right now that maybe completely disagree with me. Maybe I am making people angry by my words, because I do realize that I am judging another parent. As many times as I have written in my previous blogs about how I don't want other people to judge me, that I'm doing the best that I can. I get it! I'm a hypocrite! But, it saddens me to think that there are little kids, little kids that I know and work with, that are watching The Walking Dead. I work with so many angry, violent, unhappy, depressed little kids and I can't imagine that watching shows like this is helping that any. I know that Amelia and Emerson both have vivid nightmares. We struggle to sleep many nights. I know that watching The Walking Dead tonight may give me nightmares. What is it doing to those little babies that cannot process everything that they are seeing with their seven year old brains. I feel sad for those kids. They are so young and innocent to be exposed to something as graphic and as gory as The Walking Dead. But in listening to their conversations, it was only the tip of the iceberg. They quickly jumped from talking about The Walking Dead, to talking about Breaking Bad (apparently a show about making meth) to playing Call of Duty and Grand Theft Auto 5 and Halo. I am glad that I protect my children's innocence. I know that things get through sometimes, like letting my guard down and letting them watch some Grey's Anatomy, but after hearing those kids talk today, and seeing the images from The Walking Dead, I feel more convicted than ever to be careful of what my children are exposed to. They grow up fast enough! And my kids have enough worries and anxieties without adding zombies to the list...

You Have No Idea

I know the intention for this blog was to share the cute little moments between me and my daughters, and so far I have stayed 100% true to that. I haven't blogged every night, because on the nights where we don't have school or work the next day, I'm in the middle of my king size bed with two little girls having a slumber party. And while I don't believe that Amelia or Emerson would be offended that I am writing about us, I don't want to take the precious time of slumber parties and falling asleep together to interrupt that for blog posts. And, it's virtually impossible to be sandwiched between two little girls and reach for my computer to blog without disturbing at least one of them. So, I committed myself to only blogging on the nights when they were safely and securely tucked into their own beds. We have not been feeling great in this house. Emerson has had a hacking cough probably since the last time I blogged that they were sick. Amelia has been feverish with an earache, but the lovely doctors at Prompt Care say that there is nothing wrong with her ears...or her throat...or her chest. She's just not feeling great. I have had the headache from...well, I've had a really bad headache for the past two days. So, needless to say, we're not really very fun to be around lately. Sleep has been sporadic, if any. We're tired. We're grumpy. We really just need a vacation. Luckily there is one just around the corner, if we can survive the next few weeks. Needless to say, there was really no one more thing mommy moment tonight, other than, "Mommy, can you please tuck me in first tonight?" which was followed by cheers from Emerson that she got to stay up a few minutes longer than Amelia. I tucked her in, kissed her goodnight, and have been in her room several times since then. She's freezing...she's too hot...she can't sleep...she doesn't want to sleep...her head hurts...her neck hurts...her ear hurts. Poor kid. I hate it when they are sick. Especially Amelia. She is not the best sick kid. So, hopefully this will pass quickly and we can go on with our lives. So, not having much to go off of in big girl's room, I made my way to Emerson's room to tuck her in. She stubbed her toe and needed a bandaid. Then, we did the worry dolls. Amelia hasn't had a bad dream in a while, and Emerson hasn't either, but Emerson has a newly developed fear of waking up alone in her room. Amelia wanted to help her little sister out, so she let Emerson borrow the worry dolls. They have worked wonders with Emerson also and she has not woken up scared since she started talking to the worry dolls. So, they are a miracle in my opinion. They have worked with both of my daughters immediately and they have saved them from many sleepless nights. So, I tucked Emerson in, she asked me to stay awake until she went to sleep (part of our nightly ritual also), and drifted off to sleep. Huh...0-2 in terms of good stories to share from my kiddos. Now what? Well, I could write about how I've been back on track for eating and I'm down 14 pounds in the last four weeks. Or I could talk about how busy I am at work right now and that I'm not really sure if I'm coming or going. But that's not interesting. I could tell you that I just took a momentary break from blogging to scare coyotes out of my backyard with the help of my daddy, but that might make some people that love me worry about me and my not afraid of anything attitude that gets me into trouble sometimes. Or, I could talk about how I was insulted at work today and made to feel very inferior, but that would most likely get me mad and hurt all over again, so that shouldn't come up. But, actually, I think that I will use that last piece to tie it into something positive. I've seen a picture on Facebook lately that people have posted that I've wanted to share 1000 times. I read it and my heart screams, YES! That's 100% correct! And that picture says, "Often the people who criticize your life are usually the same people that don't know the price you paid to get where you are today." This is so true. I have had many people that have critcized decisions that I have made on my way in my journey. And I think that this could be true of anyone, in any phase of life. There are always going to be people that will have some opinion to give of how you run your life, or how you choose to live. And that used to affect me very deeply. But there comes a time in your life when you have to realize that you know best. You know what you need to survive. You know what you need to move on. You know what you need to get through the bad times. You know what you need to celebrate the good. And the people that are going to judge just don't know. They don't know that you made tough choices along the way. They don't know the demons you had to fight to get to where you are. They don't understand the blood, sweat, and tears that were shed just to be able to wake up each and every morning. Many of you can probably relate to this on many levels. Surprising, tonight as I am typing this, I am not reading this statement and thinking all that I've been through with Brian. I am not. I am reading this statement tonight and thinking about how far I have come in my career. I carry a caseload of amazing children. I work very hard to form relationships with these children to help them be successful in their therapy skills. I am the department chair of over 30 SLPs and SLP-As. I write IEPs and have parent meetings. I lead department meetings and coordinate with the Director of Special Services. I collaborate with teachers, both general ed and special ed. I write social stories and read them to students. I run therapy groups. I delegate jobs to my assistant. I put out fires in our district, and in our building (not literally!!). I call parents. I have recess duty three mornings a week. I teach kids how to communicate. I'm probably a little bit biased, but I feel like I have the most important job in the school! I also have seizures. For those of you who have never experienced me having a seizures, it's not too scary. I don't have grand mal seizures where I would fall to the ground and shake like how seizures are typically shown on TV. I have two distinct types of seizures. I have absence seizures, where I could be carrying on a conversation with you and I would simply zone out, stare off...many times, if you didn't know I had seizures you might think I'm just thinking, or daydreaming. They are brief typically and you may not even notice. I also have seizures that I have a definite aura with. I know that I am going to have a seizure and I know that they are coming. I will tell you that I'm going to have one. And these are not a big deal either, although I do sort of go into fight or flight mode, and I'm not a fighter. So, I will try my hardest to make it to my friend Melody's portable if I happen to be at Jackson Park because I am mortified that I have them. I don't shake or convulse. I don't become incontinent. I don't really even lose consciousness. I lose time. And it may be a chain of several seizures where I stare off, or don't answer you, or can shake my head yes or no, but I don't typically remember anything about them when they are over. They are embarrassing for me and I can't necessarily tell you why, other than I wish I didn't have them. But, my brain has chosen to do this so I just deal with it. For a long time, I didn't really tell anyone, except a few people. My girls know, and both of them can identify when I'm having one, and we have our little emergency plan down. I am thankful to be blessed with two very smart children, who are able to find our emergency contact on my cell phone and call her if I need help. And if I'm at work, there are several of my children in my groups that also know the plan should something happen. But, I hadn't been very forward about telling my coworkers. But, it's hard to have seizures and work in a school district with people and not have that information get out. So, there are many people that know I have seizures and I'm ok with that. Or I was until today, because for the first time in my life, I felt discriminated against because of my seizures. Seizures are awful things. They are scary and frightening. It is very difficult for me, in particular, to come out of a seizure event and know that between the seizure and the utter exhaustion that causes me to sleep afterward that I have typically lost several hours of my life. It is difficult for me to know that there are things that I forget. Between the seizures, and the medications for the seizures, there are things that I simply struggle with. But, like many of my kids, I know what I have difficulty doing. I know where my deficits are and I have learned to cope with them. I write everything down! I have post it notes everywhere. I write down anything that I need to do in my planner, and if I don't, then I'm in trouble because I won't remember. I try to do important things immediately because if I don't get to them, I either don't do them, or I drop the ball. I have word-finding problems, that I don't feel like I had before so I either circumlocute, and talk around the word until I come up with it, or I just keep going so that hopefully no one notices that I'm struggling. Add the pieces that I miss from having seizures to the pieces that the darn medications take away from me, and it's any wonder I can communicate at all. My seizure medications are low dose. I'm on two different ones and they are not even the most potent out there, but they make me stupid too. I am often dizzy and groggy from them. The compound my memory and my word-finding troubles. I cannot multitask as well as I used to, and when I am forced to multitask, something suffers. Typically, my word-finding become more difficult. I am very aware of my deficits and it is very frustrating for me. I am a speech therapist! I am the one that teaches children how to compensate for word-finding problems. I'm the one that gives them strategies to get around memory deficits. And I'm also the one that struggles with some of the various topics that they struggle with. It's very frustrating for me, but I try to look past that and look at it from the point of view that I have the very unique position of knowing what they are going through. My poor babies that are medicated with way worse things than I'm on. My little kiddos who stuggle with language, making it difficult for them to read or write or do math even. My babies with seizures, and Autism, and Down Syndrome. My kiddos with hearding aids, or glasses, or wheelchairs. My little friends that get picked on because they are different. I never experienced this last one, I don't feel, until recently. I am the department chair for our speech department. I am not comfortable in a leadership role, but I frequently volunteer to do these roles to push myself. To make myself better in these roles. I want to develop the skills I need to be a leader, and I want to push myself to do things I'm not comfortable with in order to get over my fears and insecurities. I have done the chair position before, but I had to give up the last part of my tenure because it happened in the midst of everything with Brian's death and I just couldn't keep that piece at that time. I had many great friends in the department who gladly stepped in to help me out and I let go of the chair piece. But, I didn't want that to be my only attempt at the chair position, so I volunteered to do it again. And I haven't admitted this to anyone, especially any of the SLPs in our department (they'll know now, because I know there are several that read this) but this last round has been a struggle for me. It's been one added piece to my already full plate. I have only been doing the job for a little under three months and already we have had SLPs quit, SLPs get broken, schools not covered, assistants being shifted, caseload overages, and many other things. It's a lot to juggle the job of the department chair, and I've had to step up my game with trying to stay organized. And until recently, I thought I was doing a fairly decent job. Then, some things happened, and my confidence was shaken a bit, but I wasn't going to let that get me down. I knew that this was a difficult job to balance with the regular duties of a caseload and being a full time SLP at a school, so I pushed through, and made plans to readjust my strategies for helping me stay organized and get through. And then, I got a call...I wasn't doing my job as chair well. My communication isn't organized. I drop too many pieces. I make assumptions that I should. Perhaps my cognitive deficits from my seizures was just too much to make me an effective leader for the department...and those words stung. Maybe because I was afraid they were right. Like I said, I know there are pieces that are harder for me, but I didn't think they were impacting my job. But maybe they were...I was in tears most of the day anyways. Headaches and not feeling great make me weepy, but then this added layer of wondering if my peers think I'm incompetent was just too much. But then, I remembered my picture..."Often the people who criticize your life are usually the same people that don't know the price you paid to get where you are today." and this person has no idea! They were not part of the mess with Brian. They were not part of my seizures escalating and being a problem. They don't know what I've gone through in the last five, ten, fifteen years that has made me into the person I am today. And they cannot judge me or make me feel badly about the person that I am today, and what it took to get there. I know that I have deficits. I know that I struggle at times. I know that maybe I'm not the best person for the job as SLP department chair, but you know what? It has taken a lot to get me to the point that I'm at today. And I believe it was just a few short weeks ago that I was talking about the euphoria of moving on, and feeling better. And I'm not going to let the comments of a few people throw me off the course of where I was headed. I'm doing the best I can as department chair. I'm doing the best I can as an SLP with CKSD. I'm doing the best I can as a daughter. I'm doing the best I can as a sister. I'm doing the best I can as a friend. I'm doing the best I can as a momma. I'm doing the best I can...period. And there is not one single person that can take that away from me in this moment. So, what am I going to do? I'm doing to do the best I can, know that I will never please everyone, and do a better job of advocating for myself, in all my cognitive deficit glory. Because if that's what this person sees me for, I'm much more than that! And this person has no idea what it has taken to get me here!

Get serious...

I have tried to make it a point to never lie to my children. Sure, there are the things that someday they may think were lies...the Tooth Fairy...Santa...Elf on a Shelf...all those things that give all of us great joy! So, I don't look at those things as lies. I'm talking about things in parenthood that I know some parents are tempted to lie about to make certain explanations easier. Going through the ebbs and flows of life over the last few years, questions have come up that have made me think about lying. There are many questions that strike fear in my heart when they are asked. And I have never known what to say, but I have always crafted the answers to those questions extra carefully. Such as, "Mommy, how did daddy die?" I haven't wanted to address this with my kids so I carefully always give my scientific answer. "Well, his brain stopped working, and his heart stopped beating and he stopped breathing and he just died." Not a lie...and I'm saving the deep part of that truth for when I know it's the right time. Everyone tells me I'll know when that time is, so I'm trusting that and sticking with my scientific not-lie for now. Sometimes, the no lying thing gets me in a bit of trouble. Especially when I have a super-smart six-year-old. And sometimes, the no lying thing makes me laugh and reminds me that my dear, sweet Amelia is just six. Tonight as I was tucking Amelia into bed, she says, "Mommy, just one more thing, please!" "OK, Amelia...make it quick though. You need to get to bed." "Oh, nevermind Mommy. I know you'll say no..." These conversations also strike a little fear in my heart because it's usually something that she wants, and she's going to guilt me into getting the answer. But I pressed forward, bravely. "Go ahead, Amelia." "It's a very adult conversation and I know sometimes you're not ready to answer those questions." "Try me." "Ok...well...how to you make a baby?" Oh no!! She is six years old...and I was not prepared to have this conversation with her, especially right before bed on a night when we're not feeling so great. So, I prepared my standard "dodge the topic" statement. "Amelia, that is a very important question, and I know that you are looking for an answer. I cannot talk about that with you tonight, but I promise you that we will have this very important conversation sometime when you are older." Please feel free to use this statement! I read in a magazine article somewhere that children don't necessarily want to know the answers to the questions they are asking right then in that moment. They just want the reassurance that you will discuss it with them at some point. I use this answer when talking about our lives three years ago, or how Brian died, or now how babies are made. So, please feel free to use this when you feel it is warranted. It does work! "I knew it...I understand mommy. Maybe I'll ask when I'm more mature...like when I'm seven." "Uhh...yeah...maybe then..." as I'm thinking or NEVER! "I just need to know when you are going to talk to me about it." Huh?? This had never happened. Usually the topic just goes away until the next time she asks, but she's never asked me to commit to a timeline. "Well, Amelia. I am not sure when I will be ready to have this conversation with you. I can't guarantee that it will be when you're seven. Or even eight. I just need to see where we are in life and then I'll decide when to answer." "OK, mommy, but just to let you know, you are making me less smart." "What? What does that mean? How am I making you less smart?" "Well, I have a giant space saved in my brain right now to hold that answer to that question, and it's taking up blank space right now, which could be used for reading or math or more information about bats, but instead, it's just staying blank until you tell me how babies are made." "Ok, Amelia. I'm sorry that I'm destroying your learning, but that isn't going to make me tell you how babies are made any sooner. So, I love you, and I'm sorry your brain is going to be blank, but it'll just have to wait." and I kissed her head and started to walk about of her room. "Mommy...it's OK. I'm sure you'd just tell me something that wasn't true anyways like the time I asked you how babies got out of mommy's tummy. So, nevermind...I'll just wait." "OK, Amelia. I love you!" "I love you too..." And now, I need to share THAT story. Because if telling her how babies are made is half as funny as telling her how babies arrive, then I should just tell her now! I was watching an episode of Private Practice when she walked into the living room. A lady was having a baby, her legs in stirrups. Nothing was visible, but you could tell that something was going on. At the end of the scene, Addison flopped the newborn baby onto the mommy's tummy. I turned to glance at Amelia and she was standing there, eyebrows furrowed, nose wrinkled, mouth open... "Um...mommy? How do babies get out of their mommy's tummies?" My heart sank as I paused the show and looked at her. We discussed that this was a private mommy conversation, which Amelia and I have discussed that we don't talk about such things at school with friends. That this isn't something that other children should find out about from her, but from their own mommys when their mommys think they are ready to know. I told Amelia I felt like she was ready to know, but that I would be angry if I found out she told anyone at school because, seriously, I don't want her to be "that kid." She agreed that she wouldn't tell anyone and that if she had questions about it, she would wait until she could ask me. So, I told her how babies get out of mommys' tummies. From start to finish...her expression never changed. At the end of the process, she was still mouth open, eyebrows furrowed, nose wrinkled. I began to panic that I shouldn't have told her...that it was too much for my little girl and I had crushed her innocence. I just started back at her and said, "Are you ok?" "Mommy...I am trying to have a serious conversation with you. And if you are just going to make up ridiculous stories like that, then I will wait until you can be serious with me..." and then she walked away! She thought I was joking. She thought I was teasing her. She thought I was lying. I really, really wanted her to ask me how babies were made because I think that I could get that whole conversation out and she would think that was the most ridiculous thing also. I laughed, started my show back up again, and enjoyed the fact that my baby was just six. Knowing that she thought my story was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard made me glad to know that she is still just a little girl, and I don't want her to grow up too fast! So, I'll continue to use my statement to postpone the things that I'm not ready to talk about. I'll dodge the questions I don't want to answer right now. I'll put off answering the things that she is still too little to hear about. And I will trust that my mothering instinct will know exactly when to reveal that information. Because, honestly? I don't want her to ever know how her daddy died. And I don't want her to ever know how to make babies...because I want her to be my baby forever. I know that those two conversations will have to happen at some point. But for now, I want her to worry about whether she should write a story about a fairy or a mermaid. Or wonder what is for lunch tomorrow. We've had enough of the heavy converstaions. We've had enough of the conversations that I thought I would never have with my children. I just want her to be a child. To enjoy being little and playing and pretending. So, for now..."I'm not ready to have that conversation with you" is where we settle. And she's just fine with that and she knows that when mommy is ready, we'll talk about all those things...mommy just needs to get serious first...