In the Bad Bad Dark Dark Winter of Sickness and Depression, which is my name for December 2001 - March 2002, my toddler got kicked out of the daycare at the gym for hitting. It was my only respite from mothering a difficult toddler and a perpetually sick infant (he had ear issues) and I thought I might die. We went to a child psychiatrist. He watched us interact. I did a lot of crying. One outburst I particularly remember bawling out was, "I can't even read a book for half an hour!" I was 27. Having a hard time accepting that my life was sort of not mine anymore.
After a few sessions he told me he thought my toddler was basically normal (HA! Shows what he knew) and that I was depressed (well, he got that right; I think it was SAD because March rolled around and I suddenly, magically felt better). Then he said something to me that I've never forgotten:
"Does anyone at your church know you're in this kind of pain?"
The answer was, of course, no. For church we put on our perfect clothes and our perfect hair and makeup and our perfect smiles. When we have problems, and we all do, we do not tell. This is the code.
I still do not take all my issues to church. For one thing, I am more aware than ever before that everybody has their own issues. Many people have a lot more than I do to deal with. I am not really well equipped to offer a lot to others right now, and I am not expecting a lot of help. After all, everything I've got, I signed up for. Literally. That's something fun only adoptive parents can say.
But I do not pretend to be perfect anymore.
I have a special needs kid whose issues are almost invisible and really, really hard to define and treat. I am doing everything I feel like I can do to help, and it's never enough. It's never going to be fixed. It affects everything. Absolutely everything. I feel the loss of the normal family life I looked forward to in my younger years. I mourn for that a lot. I struggle with the fact, and it is a fact, that if I had been able to gestate and give birth to this child, the issues would probably not be there. Or maybe his issues would just be different. They would almost certainly be less. I try really hard to accept it, and some days I do all right. Other days I am frustrated and embarrassed and angry and I feel like giving up. Some days I think if I could exchange this child I might do it. It is hard, really hard. I am hurting from it today.
And today I am telling. At least this one little thing. So if someone wants to know what kind of pain I am in, they can know. It's a rough one, today.
Showing posts with label Moaning and complaining. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Moaning and complaining. Show all posts
Thursday, March 08, 2012
Sunday, January 01, 2012
2011 in Review
Lucy answered these questions. I thought it would be a useful exercise for me. I'm not really sad to leave 2011 behind. But this helped me remember some good things and brought to light some things I can really learn from. So that's good.
1. What did you do in 2011 that you've never done before?
Was admitted to a hospital. Went to Legoland.
Took the dog with us on a major vacation. Worked through some major woes in the marriage. Sent my youngest child to preschool and had a couple of hours off in the middle of each day.
Went camping without my husband, with the kids - twice (crazy).
Mothered a middle-schooler.
Bought a refrigerator. Planned a ward Christmas party.
2. Did you keep your New Year's Resolutions and will you make more for next year?
The only resolution I made was to do my best and let the rest go. I think I did all right, especially considering the stressors that came up this year. I feel significantly less stressed and worried than I did at the end of 2010.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Lots of friends and acquaintances had new babies, but no one I would call super close - no sisters, in-laws or besties. For me this is a mercy. We'll just leave that there for now.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
No, but I probably went to more funerals than I ever have before, because of my calling in Relief Society.
And I began to consider that some people I love very dearly may not be with us forever, after all. I tried to spend a little more time with them - not easy because of distance, but I did try. I hope when they go I will not look back with regret. And I hope it's not soon.
5. What countries did you visit?
Just my own. Montana, Utah, Idaho, Nevada and California were my entire range for the year. Why mess with the best?
6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
A decent cell phone. I keep putting this off, because the expense is daunting. But my three-year-old pay-as-you-go phone, whose service provider does not exist in Montana, is becoming a significant problem.
7. What date from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory and why?
August 21, 2011. My husband turned 40 and my oldest son was ordained a deacon.
8. What was your biggest personal achievement of the year?
Coming to the decision that I am no longer doing things because I am told to or because I am supposed to or expected to. I am only doing things that I feel in my heart are right, things that really uplift me and my family. 37 is kind of old to turn the lights on for this. Better late than never. And while it may not change the appearance of my life a lot, it changes my inner landscape completely.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Continued inconsistency with the things I know are most important - spiritual practice, kindness to others, physical fitness and dietary discipline.
10. Did you suffer injury or illness?
Kidney stone at the end of January; I had surgery to remove it. Quit colas in hopes of avoiding recurrence, and so far, so good. Massive cold and ear infection while in California in July. Ever had a grapefruit in your ear? Me neither, but I thought I did. G had a hernia repaired and was also quite sick while we were away. A had pneumonia.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
BOGS boots. Warm, waterproof and cute. I live in a cold place, and warm feet make all the difference.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Mine and Dr. G's. Not that we were perfect. We disagreed and agonized and argued and misunderstood and talked and cried more this year than we ever have before. But what I will celebrate is that we are still here, together. We are stronger than we have ever been. We understand our vulnerabilities and our strengths better than before. If we can get through the poo-swamp that was 2011, we can do anything.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Too close to home. This mommy gig is no picnic. I am in no way ready for the teenage years.
14. Where did most of your money go?
The really most went to our mortgage. After that, probably medical and therapy expenses.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Going to California for a whole month to hang out with Sally and see old friends and go to the beach.
It turns out it was maybe a little too long, and much, much more expensive than we planned, but still, we're glad we went.
16. What song will always remind you of 2011?
16. What song will always remind you of 2011?
"Someone Like You," by Adele, for all the times I listened to it and bawled. Its peak of popularity came at an emotionally inconvenient time for me.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?
a) It's never that simple. Wiser, more peaceful, more realistic. b) Despite my intentions, same. At least my clothes fit. c) Thanks to therapy and surgery, poorer. But not without prospects for improvement.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Family fun days and time outside. Creative writing. Gardening.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Facebook games. OCD list-making. Staying up too late. Making up crazy stuff in my head. Spending money on things that don't really help. Wishing for a life that I don't have.
20. Did you fall in love in 2011?
21. What was your favorite TV program?
22. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
23. What was the best book you read?
24. What was your greatest musical discovery?
25. What did you want and get?
26. What did you want and not get?
27. What was your favorite film of this year?
28. What did you do on your birthday and how old were you?
29. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept for 2011?
31. What kept you sane?
20. Did you fall in love in 2011?
Maybe with wool socks. Or Pinterest. Not meaning to make light of the question, but really, I have been married for 18 years and have four children. I love all these crazies a lot already. If I fall any further I will be lost.
Here is one I am really in love with. When my older two were his age I thought they were big and gangly and sort of losing their little-kid cuteness. Not my K. He is always pinch-the-cheeks cute to me.
21. What was your favorite TV program?
Dr. Who. I also discovered a show where Elvis Costello interviews musicians and other celebrities about music, and it's pretty much brilliant.
Thankfully free from hate. There is a neighborhood bully who I kind of wish would move away or something, but he's left off bothering my children and I don't feel like I hate him. Poor kid.
23. What was the best book you read?
Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson. On the Blue Comet by Rosemary Wells (out loud to the kids).
I think I'm too old for discoveries. I like my tried and true favorites. Except, like everyone else in any English-speaking country, I became obsessed with Adele.
25. What did you want and get?
The refrigerator. The month in California. The quilt from my mother-in-law (fabulous!)
A flat-screen TV (wonderful surprise from my parents). Steady writing and editing work. Some nifty vintage stuff for my living room, especially the fabulous turquoise-and-gold lamp with the inverted drum shade. Totally '50s and in pristine condition. Thanks, Dr. G!
26. What did you want and not get?
Perfect health. I know, it's a lot to ask, and I should be grateful for what we have. But I'm a little weary of all our minor complaints. And now that I have said that I feel like a jerk. While I am at it, I also want my kitchen remodeled. Magically, and for free.
27. What was your favorite film of this year?
Hm. Crazy Stupid Love was a really fun girls' night out. Harry Potter 7.2 was pretty satisfying. But The Muppets takes the cake. (Also, I don't really feel like I see films. I just go to the movies like most other Americans.)
Cared for a kid with pneumonia while my husband traveled out of town. I turned 37. It was pretty much a stinker of a birthday. But G made it up to me when he came home with an amazing dinner out at the place that has become my absolute favorite restaurant in town, the Uptown Cafe. I had scallops. Love me some scallops.
29. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I'm thinking maybe a punching bag.
30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept for 2011?
Trying a Little Harder Than I Sometimes Have in the Past. Often With Scarves and Boots.
Kept? Sane? Two faulty presumptions there already. Really, probably the support of a few key friends. Also, chocolate, and alternating doses of Vitamin Water and SoBe Lifewater (the kinds with caffeine in them, because I had to quit colas, as I mentioned above). And the occasional triumphant feeling of posting something really clever on Facebook.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Making Christmas
After the ward party, I kind of feel like I've already done Christmas and want to lie around in my pajamas and play Scrabble-clone games on the computer. It's not going to work.
There are three sick kids in the house. The Christmas cold is a severely under-reported holiday tradition. We eat sugar, we stay up late, we mingle with people, we get sick. It makes perfect sense, actually.
Although my shopping is done, I still have a package to send and lots of wrapping and baking to do. Those are fun jobs, and when I find my energy I'm sure I'll accomplish them, no problem.
I seem to have misplaced a large stack of addressed, stamped Christmas cards. Dear friends, you might get your card a little late this year. I suspect they might be at the church where I was frantically covering cakes with whipped cream on Friday afternoon.
We have three different Christmas programs to attend this week - one at the preschool, one at the elementary school, and one for the Young Musicians' Club where A plays guitar. Fa la la!
Do you ever wonder what would happen to holidays if the mom didn't do the work? Sometimes I do. Not complaining. Just trying to find my motivation.
There are three sick kids in the house. The Christmas cold is a severely under-reported holiday tradition. We eat sugar, we stay up late, we mingle with people, we get sick. It makes perfect sense, actually.
Although my shopping is done, I still have a package to send and lots of wrapping and baking to do. Those are fun jobs, and when I find my energy I'm sure I'll accomplish them, no problem.
I seem to have misplaced a large stack of addressed, stamped Christmas cards. Dear friends, you might get your card a little late this year. I suspect they might be at the church where I was frantically covering cakes with whipped cream on Friday afternoon.
We have three different Christmas programs to attend this week - one at the preschool, one at the elementary school, and one for the Young Musicians' Club where A plays guitar. Fa la la!
Do you ever wonder what would happen to holidays if the mom didn't do the work? Sometimes I do. Not complaining. Just trying to find my motivation.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Grate/grace/great
Last year on Facebook, I wrote something I was grateful for every day for the whole month of November. It was a great thing to do; it opened up my heart and prepared me so well to have a really meaningful and spiritual Christmas season. This year I am pleased to see many friends doing the same thing.
But I haven't been doing it. I don't know if this is a mistake or not. I won't lie to you, the month started out with me struggling to just keep my head above water emotionally and although I still was and still am grateful for the many good things in my life, I didn't really feel like I had the energy to summon up the personal graciousness to declare it every day. I was also having trouble with other people's declarations of "I'm so blessed" and "I'm so grateful," because sometimes it seems like bragging. I've griped about that some, which I know has flummoxed some friends. I know that might not seem like the most mature way to handle a tough spot in your life. But we feel what we feel, and we do what we need to do to get through.
As long as in the meantime we are doing the work we need to do to make life a little better, I think that's ok. Sometimes that just means hanging on until the day looks brighter. Sometimes it means digging deep in your relationships and your approaches to life's problems until you find something you can change. Probably most often it's a little of both.
And that's what's coloring my view of gratitude and grace and graciousness and greatness this Thanksgiving season. I am grateful for forgiveness of my failures to be gentle and kind and understanding when what was really needed from me was so much more than what I gave. I am grateful for the chance to catch up when I have fallen behind. I am grateful for reminders about what's really important. I'm grateful for people who are willing to turn over the rocks and clean out what's underneath with me, and for those who see a need and quietly fill it. I'm grateful for the chances to immerse myself in music or work or exercise or worship during the whole process to allow my mind and heart a little bit of rest. I'm grateful for how words comfort. I'm grateful for how time heals. I'm grateful for blessings I don't deserve.
Life is never going to be all fixed and perfect, that's my conclusion. But there really is an awful lot to thank God for along the way.
But I haven't been doing it. I don't know if this is a mistake or not. I won't lie to you, the month started out with me struggling to just keep my head above water emotionally and although I still was and still am grateful for the many good things in my life, I didn't really feel like I had the energy to summon up the personal graciousness to declare it every day. I was also having trouble with other people's declarations of "I'm so blessed" and "I'm so grateful," because sometimes it seems like bragging. I've griped about that some, which I know has flummoxed some friends. I know that might not seem like the most mature way to handle a tough spot in your life. But we feel what we feel, and we do what we need to do to get through.
As long as in the meantime we are doing the work we need to do to make life a little better, I think that's ok. Sometimes that just means hanging on until the day looks brighter. Sometimes it means digging deep in your relationships and your approaches to life's problems until you find something you can change. Probably most often it's a little of both.
And that's what's coloring my view of gratitude and grace and graciousness and greatness this Thanksgiving season. I am grateful for forgiveness of my failures to be gentle and kind and understanding when what was really needed from me was so much more than what I gave. I am grateful for the chance to catch up when I have fallen behind. I am grateful for reminders about what's really important. I'm grateful for people who are willing to turn over the rocks and clean out what's underneath with me, and for those who see a need and quietly fill it. I'm grateful for the chances to immerse myself in music or work or exercise or worship during the whole process to allow my mind and heart a little bit of rest. I'm grateful for how words comfort. I'm grateful for how time heals. I'm grateful for blessings I don't deserve.
Life is never going to be all fixed and perfect, that's my conclusion. But there really is an awful lot to thank God for along the way.
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
In general
The longer I don't write, the harder it becomes to write. I build up such a backlog of material that I don't know where to start. Or else I get so out of practice that I don't know how.
My sister M2 did a general-purpose update on her blog, which I liked. I didn't know that she was going to Hawaii for Christmas, for example, so I'm glad she blogged it. I had a great trip to Hawaii with my husband when I was exactly her age. It seems like a long time ago, and I guess it pretty much was. We're fifteen years apart but seem to be getting closer as sisters recently. I love it.
Anyway, back on topic. General purpose update. I thought maybe I could go down the line, person by person, Christmas letter style. I'm not sure I'll be writing a Christmas letter this year, anyway. Sometimes it gets hard for me to walk the line between keeping it real and oversharing, and the Christmas letter seems kinda high pressure in a year when things have been a little more real than I'd like at times.
I'll start with myself. I'm riding the frost heaves all right. Lots of up and down. I find I am easily dragged down when my plans are frustrated or when other people are not feeling good. Trying to keep taking care of myself. I think I mostly have the exercise thing down; I know too well how it affects my mood and emotions if I skip. You would never know it to look at me, which is kind of depressing, but I am trying not to be all about how I look, The day the lights go on in my head about controlling what I eat (I seem to have a faulty switch) I will really have it all together. Considering everything going on, some of which I will refrain from writing about (that oversharing thing) I think I am actually doing pretty well.
I am doing a lot of driving these days. Driving to the gym, driving to preschool, driving to drop of somebody's lunch money, driving to guitar lessons. And trying to keep up with people's homework and keep on top of the housework. It is never all done.
I'm editing a big mining textbook that was translated from Spanish. I do not speak Spanish. I speak French, because when I was 13 my mother thought I should take Spanish. So I took French. See how I am? The edit has been hard, and I've made liberal use of Google Translate and moved embarrassingly slowly, but it's also been pretty educational. By the end of the project I predict I will be able to read Spanish pretty passably and also be able to pass about two years of mining engineering courses without too much trouble, should I have the desire. I've finally given myself a deadline and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Fortunately the client is my dad and he's almost superhumanly patient. I'm also still writing the occasional story for my former employer, work that is easy and fun. I love it. And I learned from my bishop that the Friend magazine will probably be publishing another one of my stories next June. I don't know which one. I guess they check with the bish before they go too far in the editorial process to make sure their authors haven't gone off the deep end. Probably smart.
I'm stuck on Pinterest and want to do all the cool projects I see there. So many excellent ideas. I try to pick up one every now and then. Often crochet, or upcycling, or something to cook or bake, or an organizing type thing. It always feels good to do work that stays done (as opposed to laundry or dishes).
Dr. G continues to be even more awesome than he thinks he is (haha). He is working so hard at everything and has gigantic expectations for himself. He has gotten a pretty extraordinary amount of research money for a young professor at a small teaching-oriented university and is pursuing a big NASA grant. He just got back from a trip to visit a mining company that is funding one of his projects. They love him, of course. He is in charge of the boys ages 12-18 at church and puts in a tremendous amount of time with them. And he is still committed to quality and quantity time with our kids. They have been fishing and having a great time together. I am sure I don't say it enough but I am pretty much crazy about my husband. He's had a bumpy road himself the last couple of months, managing all this stuff and the stress that comes with it. My wish for him - just that he could understand that nobody's perfect but he is pretty dang close.
S has made great progress since the last time I wrote about him in my "Dumps" post. It really was a rough start to junior high. Since then we have had two meetings with G and me and all S's teachers and counselors together, plus I've gone to parent-teacher conferences. It has been a relief to see the teachers start to understand him, and him start to understand how to work within the system at school. All the teachers say he has done the proverbial 180. He has become significantly less stressed and better behaved. His grades are coming up, and he is in the Rocket Club. He launched his rocket yesterday. It was a huge success, shooting way up into the clouds before landing in the field next to the school. I went to watch it with my littles, and we were all impressed. S has wonderful friends in church and Scouts, something I'm really grateful for. He is happy in that environment and doing well.
A is my rock, which I worry is unfair to say about a child but he really is just the kid I can count on to help out and be good and sweet almost all the time. Everyone loves him, especially little girls, and we seem to see girls he knows everywhere we go. His only struggle is finishing his work in class, because he's just too interested in the people around him. I know I should hate that but I kind of love it. His heart is so good and I know it will serve him well in life. If we can just keep up with the math, too, we'll be golden. He read the book "Holes" for school and really enjoyed that. But he's always reading something; it's getting hard for me to even keep track. Luckily I am a book hound so it would be pretty hard for him to run out of material. Last month he sang a duet with a friend in the Primary program at church. It was absolutely beautiful. I know it is hard for him to live with some non-typical siblings. It stresses him out sometimes. We understand each other in that way! It's easy to forget he's just a kid, but I try to let him know how much I appreciate him.
K is still so stinking cute at age 7. I remember thinking that my older boys were getting kind of big and gangly and less cute (more handsome and of course still lovable) at this age, so how is it that K is still my adorable little guy? I guess that's the advantage of being a younger child and small for his age (his brothers are both on the big side). He is hilarious and delights in that - pretty much a ham. His little rubberface expressions just kill me. He is struggling with his ADHD a little bit right now; it's not affecting his behavior so much as his concentration and attention, especially in the classroom, and so we are looking at adjusting his meds. Very often I finish my dinner, for example, and look over to find he hasn't even taken a bite yet. He's just way too distracted by everything else going on. Good thing he's adorable because this inattentive business is pretty crazy-making. He has a couple of good friends at school and church but really prefers his brothers over all other company. Pretty cute.
Z is really blossoming in preschool. It's amazing to see her so engaged with learning letters and numbers, days and months, and skills like buttoning her own buttons, which she now insists on doing. She loves her teacher and her little friends. Back in September G took a morning off work to teach her how to ride her little bike without training wheels, and she's so proud of that. She's also great about wearing her helmet (yeah!) maybe because we got a cute one with flowers. It's so interesting to me how different she is from me in her tastes and proclivities. For instance, she would choose hot pink and zebra stripes over my preferred earth tones and natural materials any day of the week. So I think we are going to be having a zebra-stripe Minnie Mouse birthday party at the end of this month. I'm amazed that my baby is about to turn five. On the other hand, little girl can sing. I love to hear her singing to herself or her dolls throughout the day. Girl after my own heart.
Heidi the dog still mostly just wants a few things in life: love, cheese, and long walks. Sounds pretty good, right? We've had her a whole year now and although we go through more vacuum bags than before (German Shepherds shed) she is a wonderful addition to our household. Most mellow dog I have ever met. It might be because she's mentally challenged but that's fine by me. A smart dog would probably be more than I could handle.
Montana is getting cold. I am buckling down for the long winter. Maybe with the weather getting crappy and the general-purpose update behind me, I'll write some more for you. We'll see.
My sister M2 did a general-purpose update on her blog, which I liked. I didn't know that she was going to Hawaii for Christmas, for example, so I'm glad she blogged it. I had a great trip to Hawaii with my husband when I was exactly her age. It seems like a long time ago, and I guess it pretty much was. We're fifteen years apart but seem to be getting closer as sisters recently. I love it.
Anyway, back on topic. General purpose update. I thought maybe I could go down the line, person by person, Christmas letter style. I'm not sure I'll be writing a Christmas letter this year, anyway. Sometimes it gets hard for me to walk the line between keeping it real and oversharing, and the Christmas letter seems kinda high pressure in a year when things have been a little more real than I'd like at times.
I'll start with myself. I'm riding the frost heaves all right. Lots of up and down. I find I am easily dragged down when my plans are frustrated or when other people are not feeling good. Trying to keep taking care of myself. I think I mostly have the exercise thing down; I know too well how it affects my mood and emotions if I skip. You would never know it to look at me, which is kind of depressing, but I am trying not to be all about how I look, The day the lights go on in my head about controlling what I eat (I seem to have a faulty switch) I will really have it all together. Considering everything going on, some of which I will refrain from writing about (that oversharing thing) I think I am actually doing pretty well.
I am doing a lot of driving these days. Driving to the gym, driving to preschool, driving to drop of somebody's lunch money, driving to guitar lessons. And trying to keep up with people's homework and keep on top of the housework. It is never all done.
I'm editing a big mining textbook that was translated from Spanish. I do not speak Spanish. I speak French, because when I was 13 my mother thought I should take Spanish. So I took French. See how I am? The edit has been hard, and I've made liberal use of Google Translate and moved embarrassingly slowly, but it's also been pretty educational. By the end of the project I predict I will be able to read Spanish pretty passably and also be able to pass about two years of mining engineering courses without too much trouble, should I have the desire. I've finally given myself a deadline and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Fortunately the client is my dad and he's almost superhumanly patient. I'm also still writing the occasional story for my former employer, work that is easy and fun. I love it. And I learned from my bishop that the Friend magazine will probably be publishing another one of my stories next June. I don't know which one. I guess they check with the bish before they go too far in the editorial process to make sure their authors haven't gone off the deep end. Probably smart.
I'm stuck on Pinterest and want to do all the cool projects I see there. So many excellent ideas. I try to pick up one every now and then. Often crochet, or upcycling, or something to cook or bake, or an organizing type thing. It always feels good to do work that stays done (as opposed to laundry or dishes).
Dr. G continues to be even more awesome than he thinks he is (haha). He is working so hard at everything and has gigantic expectations for himself. He has gotten a pretty extraordinary amount of research money for a young professor at a small teaching-oriented university and is pursuing a big NASA grant. He just got back from a trip to visit a mining company that is funding one of his projects. They love him, of course. He is in charge of the boys ages 12-18 at church and puts in a tremendous amount of time with them. And he is still committed to quality and quantity time with our kids. They have been fishing and having a great time together. I am sure I don't say it enough but I am pretty much crazy about my husband. He's had a bumpy road himself the last couple of months, managing all this stuff and the stress that comes with it. My wish for him - just that he could understand that nobody's perfect but he is pretty dang close.
S has made great progress since the last time I wrote about him in my "Dumps" post. It really was a rough start to junior high. Since then we have had two meetings with G and me and all S's teachers and counselors together, plus I've gone to parent-teacher conferences. It has been a relief to see the teachers start to understand him, and him start to understand how to work within the system at school. All the teachers say he has done the proverbial 180. He has become significantly less stressed and better behaved. His grades are coming up, and he is in the Rocket Club. He launched his rocket yesterday. It was a huge success, shooting way up into the clouds before landing in the field next to the school. I went to watch it with my littles, and we were all impressed. S has wonderful friends in church and Scouts, something I'm really grateful for. He is happy in that environment and doing well.
A is my rock, which I worry is unfair to say about a child but he really is just the kid I can count on to help out and be good and sweet almost all the time. Everyone loves him, especially little girls, and we seem to see girls he knows everywhere we go. His only struggle is finishing his work in class, because he's just too interested in the people around him. I know I should hate that but I kind of love it. His heart is so good and I know it will serve him well in life. If we can just keep up with the math, too, we'll be golden. He read the book "Holes" for school and really enjoyed that. But he's always reading something; it's getting hard for me to even keep track. Luckily I am a book hound so it would be pretty hard for him to run out of material. Last month he sang a duet with a friend in the Primary program at church. It was absolutely beautiful. I know it is hard for him to live with some non-typical siblings. It stresses him out sometimes. We understand each other in that way! It's easy to forget he's just a kid, but I try to let him know how much I appreciate him.
K is still so stinking cute at age 7. I remember thinking that my older boys were getting kind of big and gangly and less cute (more handsome and of course still lovable) at this age, so how is it that K is still my adorable little guy? I guess that's the advantage of being a younger child and small for his age (his brothers are both on the big side). He is hilarious and delights in that - pretty much a ham. His little rubberface expressions just kill me. He is struggling with his ADHD a little bit right now; it's not affecting his behavior so much as his concentration and attention, especially in the classroom, and so we are looking at adjusting his meds. Very often I finish my dinner, for example, and look over to find he hasn't even taken a bite yet. He's just way too distracted by everything else going on. Good thing he's adorable because this inattentive business is pretty crazy-making. He has a couple of good friends at school and church but really prefers his brothers over all other company. Pretty cute.
Z is really blossoming in preschool. It's amazing to see her so engaged with learning letters and numbers, days and months, and skills like buttoning her own buttons, which she now insists on doing. She loves her teacher and her little friends. Back in September G took a morning off work to teach her how to ride her little bike without training wheels, and she's so proud of that. She's also great about wearing her helmet (yeah!) maybe because we got a cute one with flowers. It's so interesting to me how different she is from me in her tastes and proclivities. For instance, she would choose hot pink and zebra stripes over my preferred earth tones and natural materials any day of the week. So I think we are going to be having a zebra-stripe Minnie Mouse birthday party at the end of this month. I'm amazed that my baby is about to turn five. On the other hand, little girl can sing. I love to hear her singing to herself or her dolls throughout the day. Girl after my own heart.
Heidi the dog still mostly just wants a few things in life: love, cheese, and long walks. Sounds pretty good, right? We've had her a whole year now and although we go through more vacuum bags than before (German Shepherds shed) she is a wonderful addition to our household. Most mellow dog I have ever met. It might be because she's mentally challenged but that's fine by me. A smart dog would probably be more than I could handle.
Montana is getting cold. I am buckling down for the long winter. Maybe with the weather getting crappy and the general-purpose update behind me, I'll write some more for you. We'll see.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Open up
We have this kind of unusual situation in the ward (church congregation) here. There are a lot of people on the rolls who, as newbies of two years, we don't know. Never met 'em. OK, that's not so unusual. The thing is that here, a stunningly high percentage of these folks are on the far end of elderly. So we tend to have a funeral at the church every couple of weeks for a person we don't know.
I am working in the Relief Society (church women's organization) and also happen to be one of the people in the ward who sings and leads music fairly comfortably. So one way or the other I end up being tapped to help out with a lot of these funerals. Which I don't mind a bit, truly. It is a privilege to do some small thing for people, even strangers, who have lost a dear one, whether it's making brownies or serving food or standing up at the front of the chapel waving my arms around.
And I have some experience being involved with funerals. In California, we cherished our friendship with a couple where the wife was a wonderful singer and the husband was a funeral director. When the wife couldn't be there for a funeral that needed music, I sometimes stepped in with "Ave Maria" or something. For a beloved mother whose funeral was thronged with her family ... or a man who died of AIDS-related causes whose family would not even attend his memorial service. It always gave me cause for thought, compassion, humility.
So, today. I got called to open up the church for the mortuary staff, then lead the music and sing "Be Still, My Soul." All good. The thing was, I was singing almost as much a solo during the hymns with arm-waving as the hymn without. I think I saw one person in the congregation whose mouth was moving. And it was not a small group. This woman's family obviously loved her and remembered her with a lot of humor and affection. But whoa, man, once the organ kicked in, stony-faced silence. They were anti-music or maybe anti-Mormon or something.
And I can roll with that. Sure, it's awkward for the lady in the front with the music stand. But of course it's not about that.
Just, when I kick the bucket someday in the far future, please open up your mouths and sing at my funeral.
I am working in the Relief Society (church women's organization) and also happen to be one of the people in the ward who sings and leads music fairly comfortably. So one way or the other I end up being tapped to help out with a lot of these funerals. Which I don't mind a bit, truly. It is a privilege to do some small thing for people, even strangers, who have lost a dear one, whether it's making brownies or serving food or standing up at the front of the chapel waving my arms around.
And I have some experience being involved with funerals. In California, we cherished our friendship with a couple where the wife was a wonderful singer and the husband was a funeral director. When the wife couldn't be there for a funeral that needed music, I sometimes stepped in with "Ave Maria" or something. For a beloved mother whose funeral was thronged with her family ... or a man who died of AIDS-related causes whose family would not even attend his memorial service. It always gave me cause for thought, compassion, humility.
So, today. I got called to open up the church for the mortuary staff, then lead the music and sing "Be Still, My Soul." All good. The thing was, I was singing almost as much a solo during the hymns with arm-waving as the hymn without. I think I saw one person in the congregation whose mouth was moving. And it was not a small group. This woman's family obviously loved her and remembered her with a lot of humor and affection. But whoa, man, once the organ kicked in, stony-faced silence. They were anti-music or maybe anti-Mormon or something.
And I can roll with that. Sure, it's awkward for the lady in the front with the music stand. But of course it's not about that.
Just, when I kick the bucket someday in the far future, please open up your mouths and sing at my funeral.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Dumps
- I did not sleep well. I have a lot of problems with racing brain syndrome. When I take melatonin I have dreams where I am screaming at people. Usually they are pretty telling dreams and I really cannot deal with that right now.
- I have a kid who needs a dosage increase but is already at the maximum dosage for his medication. ADHD parents have some clue what I'm talking about. He is grounded until Wednesday and has detention for the next three days for yelling in the hallway at school. We have already spent thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours on therapy this year. I'm not sure where else to go from this point. I am grateful that he is more functional than some other kids I know. I am not grateful that his issues are invisible and often people (including me) have unreasonable expectations of him. I am confused about what my expectations should be. I am not feeling very confident as a mom lately.
- Said kid flooded the basement storage room over the weekend by sticking the backyard hose in the dryer vent pipe. I am grateful that my dryer still works but not grateful to be washing every towel I own today. And I am trying hard not to think about mold.
- When I go to class at the Y I am more the speed of the 50-somethings than the other 30-somethings. Any 30-somethings in the same kind of shape as me want to go and start being my class buddy? I'm getting a bad inferiority complex.
- Speaking of age, as I approach the next decade my chin has decided it would be fun to start growing whiskers. I called an electrolysis lady. She told me to stop plucking and call her back in a couple of weeks. So now I shave, like a man, and am working myself up to another embarrassing phone call. Did I mention I have telephonophobia anyway?
- Montana is smoking. You cannot see the mountains. The air is gray. My throat hurts. My nose is bleeding a couple times a day. I worry a great deal about my two asthmatic kids. I don't even have the energy to worry about the poor firefighters. I am tired of this.
- My preschooler still has not started preschool. We pay for the whole month of September but she doesn't get to go until this Thursday. She is so bored when all her brothers are in school and she has no one to bug but me and our slightly mentally challenged but sweet and sainted dog. It is tantrum city around here. All three of us need preschool in a bad way.
I thought I might get to ten reasons why today sucks, but past seven I would be scraping. And when you already have seven things to complain about, why scrape for more?
On the bright side, it's my girls' weekend in Park City this weekend. I hope it's not smoky.
Tuesday, September 06, 2011
Bite the bullets
Random thoughts for tonight.
- I am not at all pleased about this. (Administrators from our school district are striking for more pay, and our schools are closed as of 6 p.m. today because of course, teachers will not cross picket lines.) I appreciate school principals and know they work hard. The new principal at our neighborhood elementary is particularly impressive, and I wouldn't put him down. I also absolutely believe in collective bargaining rights for public employees. However, I have a hard time seeing principals and other administrators as labor-side rather than management-side. And I think they and the district could have tried harder to come to an agreement before striking. Shame on both sides for not giving just a little more to keep our kids in school. What is it that people in today's world do not understand about "meet in the middle?"
- Yes, Washington D.C., I am talking about you, too. I am appalled that the president (whom I support) is criticized by his own party for a simple courtesy like rescheduling a speech to accommodate the other party's presidential primary debate, for example. Seriously? Can't you all just act normal?
- Also, how can one principal per school really create a picket line? Wouldn't that be a picket point? And how would you cross it even if you tried?
- Pinterest. Trouble on a stick. Just saying.
- I understand capes are in fashion this fall. In a fortunate coincidence, I happen to own a vintage navy blue wool cape. (Thank you, Miriam!) What would you wear with a vintage navy blue wool cape? Slim pants (almost an oxymoron for me, rather a big-legged mama) and boots seem to be de rigeur. Are black and navy OK together now? Or do I have an excuse to spring for some brown boots? What answer do you think I want?
- Guess how long it took me this morning to fold the laundry after a Scout camping trip in which half my family participated. Go ahead. Give up? Four hours. I need a wife, right?
- We have taken up fishing. Rather, Dr. G has taken up fishing and brings with him three willing boys, a reluctant wife with her camera and current novel, and a small daughter who thinks she would like to fish but mostly ends up throwing tantrums. So far: four trips. Two small rainbow trout. We will try to value the family time over the protein. At least they do taste good. I told G there's a reason people call it a fishing expedition when they are undertaking a venture that offers no guarantee of any results at all.
- Z rides a bike without training wheels, as of last Friday. It almost breaks my heart. Not that I want a baby, or that I want her to stay a baby, but that she is just not going to be small for very much longer. She is overjoyed.
- If these bullet points were peanut butter M&Ms I really would bite them. Even if I hypothetically found them on the floor of the minivan, left over from several weeks ago. Hypothetically.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Humbled
Great big kidney stone. I feel it starting about January 13th. It hurts, but not like the stone I had two years ago, which is a mercy, because that one had me sweating and doubled over and thinking for sure I had a ruptured appendix and certain death looming. I spend last week getting diagnosed and scheduled for a lithotripsy. No doctor in my town is free. Meanwhile, two kids get sick with colds. I go to Missoula Friday for a consult. Then, yesterday, surgery.
It seems like it's going to be no biggie. It's outpatient, it's considered minimally invasive, no incisions, blah blah.
In the hospital (first time ever in a hospital except for that ER trip two years ago with the killer stone) I have this bizarre feeling: I don't have to do anything. There are people all around me taking care of me. They bring me warm blankets and magazines. After the procedure, tomato soup and crackers, grape juice, ice water in a sippy cup. (Good tomato soup, too, with little chunks of yummy tomato, not overly sweet.) It's like somebody else is doing my job.
My friends, bless them forever, take my kids. My husband runs people to the doctor's office and picks up medicines at the pharmacy and grabs milk and stuff at the grocery store. I am mostly helpless. I dose up on two hydrocodones and one Advil Liquigel (my heretofore best friend) this afternoon so I can get the kids through homework and chores while G gets some work done. I feel super but apparently overdo it and have to lie down at 4:30 and order Domino's. I have some bleeding that I think is exacerbated by the Advil. No more of that.
I'm so helpless. I'm so humbled. I'm so grateful that, usually, I have my health. Hope it's back soon.
A million thanks to all who are praying and helping and supporting me. I can't imagine what it's like when a mom hits a really serious health crisis. I know it happens. I hope not to me.
(P.S. If I find out this stone was really caused by diet cola, that might be enough to make me kick the habit forever, and I mean forever.)
It seems like it's going to be no biggie. It's outpatient, it's considered minimally invasive, no incisions, blah blah.
In the hospital (first time ever in a hospital except for that ER trip two years ago with the killer stone) I have this bizarre feeling: I don't have to do anything. There are people all around me taking care of me. They bring me warm blankets and magazines. After the procedure, tomato soup and crackers, grape juice, ice water in a sippy cup. (Good tomato soup, too, with little chunks of yummy tomato, not overly sweet.) It's like somebody else is doing my job.
My friends, bless them forever, take my kids. My husband runs people to the doctor's office and picks up medicines at the pharmacy and grabs milk and stuff at the grocery store. I am mostly helpless. I dose up on two hydrocodones and one Advil Liquigel (my heretofore best friend) this afternoon so I can get the kids through homework and chores while G gets some work done. I feel super but apparently overdo it and have to lie down at 4:30 and order Domino's. I have some bleeding that I think is exacerbated by the Advil. No more of that.
I'm so helpless. I'm so humbled. I'm so grateful that, usually, I have my health. Hope it's back soon.
A million thanks to all who are praying and helping and supporting me. I can't imagine what it's like when a mom hits a really serious health crisis. I know it happens. I hope not to me.
(P.S. If I find out this stone was really caused by diet cola, that might be enough to make me kick the habit forever, and I mean forever.)
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Spring
My favorite season of the year takes a long time to arrive in Montana. Or maybe it just behaves differently here. True, we now have green grass and even dandelions, but they all seem to get snowed on about once a week. This depresses me a little. I'm trying not to complain too much. I don't want to be the obnoxious and wimpy California transplant. I'm not a real Californian, after all. I should be considered more Utahn than Californian by virtue of years spent there, and I'm a little bit Alaskan, too. So handling a wet and snowy Montana spring ought to be no biggie.
But even when I lived in Alaska I remember psyching myself into a spring mindset. This I did by wearing spring clothing as early as March, when the temperatures got up to zero or so. Nowadays my legs are neither as cute nor as cold-hardy as they used to be, so I don't do that anymore. But I have found some spring-oriented mood-boosters.
1. Take a walk through a nursery. It's warm and humid, and the colors are almost as intoxicating as the scent of wet, warm earth. Promise yourself some petunias as soon as it is safe to put things in the ground (June 1, so I'm told).
3. Sprout some seeds indoors. Pray they survive until it's safe to put things in the ground.
4. On a related note, build some raised beds. Mine are wood, but my darling cousin Jodi has great instructions for vinyl ones here. They look better than mine. Hmph.
5. Work on feet. I WILL wear sandals this year. Actually I really just need a real pedicure. Maybe after payday.
6. Work on skin. This is excellent stuff,
way more than I would usually spend on skincare products but well worth the money.
way more than I would usually spend on skincare products but well worth the money.7. Tidy up the patio. Dr. G did most of the real work. For my part, I plan to get four Adirondack chairs on sale and paint them some wonderful color. Perhaps turquoise.
8. Plan a vacation or two. We're going to Utah a couple of times (one very, very soon) and to Alaska in June for Dr. G's 20-year high school reunion.th
9. Buy summer produce even if it is a little expensive. Fresh cherries were the star of my life today.
10. Eat salad for dinner. Maybe one like this.
Crunchy Chicken Salad
1/2 head Romaine lettuce
1 c. diced jicama
2 stalks diced celery
2 tomatoes, cut in wedges
1 orange, peeled, halved lengthwise, and sliced
2 c. cooked, diced leftover chicken (it's good if you've grilled it or if it has a little barbecue or sweet/spicy flavor)
Sunflower seeds
Newman's Own Light Lime Vinaigrette
Combine all the veggies and chicken. Add sunflower seeds and dressing just before serving.
4 servings.
Monday, March 01, 2010
Processing
It's probably pretty obvious to anybody with much life experience at all, but I'll say it anyway. When we experience major losses in our lives, we don't get over it all at once. It is a long, long process reconciling what we wanted with what we got, our dreams with our realities. Sometimes the process stalls and we forget about it or maybe even think we're done with it. And then it kicks up again and we grind through more days of feeling unsettled and trying to understand.
I do think that's probably just about universal. That's one reason why I wrote the "we" and the "us" there. The other reason is that loss is also extremely personal. It's hard to jump in and just say, "This is what I'm going through." First person plural kind of eases the entry.
For me, one big ongoing loss-adjustment process is (duh, surprise) infertility.
Really, after 15 years, yeah, it still is. Sorry. Not over it.
It is true that I no longer have that raw, horrible, need-a-baby, why-am-I-not-good-enough pain. Thank God. The adoption of my perfectly paradoxical, beautiful and challenging first son in 1999 cured that. Big step, big big big step.
I don't even have the exciting spur of baby hunger. I don't see babies and think there are more for me, somewhere in the world. A lot of times I'm not even dying to hold them. I mean, I will, and I like them. But I don't want more kids. Four is a great number for me. I am delighted with the family Dr. G. and I have labored to build. I love it that no one wears diapers at our house these days. I eagerly anticipate having all my kids in school and gaining a few precious hours of my own for writing or errands or maybe a Master's degree.
I am not often embittered now by the mystifying women's ritual of sharing (sometimes gory and horrible) birth stories. The stupid comments ("Do you run a group home?" or "Don't you ever wish you had your own kids?") roll off me. The nursing nazis don't really get to me anymore. Even intentional slights from people who think they know how to push my buttons -- not that there are a lot, but I have seen them -- meh. Maybe because I know I have walked through fire for my kids, I don't have adoption insecurity these days.
The thing that is under my skin now: I've thought a lot about it, and I think it is pure biological clock. I'll be 36 next month. Many, many women my age who have never given birth get this restlessness about it. Normal. It's just that a lot of them don't have four kids.
I have beautiful, amazing nieces and nephews who share bits of my genetic material, and they tug at my heart in a way that I never anticipated. The way my nephew's hair bends in the back just like mine, the creamy pink of his sister's cheek, the something about the eyes of my brother's daughter or the dark blonde color of her little pageboy -- these things just give me a twinge of longing. Some extended family members have been working on scanning old pictures, several from the 1970s. I was a really, really cute baby (and so was G) and it is a darned shame for the aesthetic quality of the general population of human children, for both of us to be the end of the genetic line.
When we decided to abandon infertility treatments in favor of adoption at the end of 1998, I decided that it just didn't matter if my kids looked like me, if I saw traces of my interests and talents in them. Well, maybe I was wrong. It matters, a little. Maybe it is ok for me to just say, it makes me kind of sad.
And I feel like I can say that without taking anything away from the amazing, beautiful, smart, funny, fun kids God has given me. I remember talking to my OB/GYN in Salt Lake when my big boys were little. She was having a baby at 41 and joked with me that that would probably happen to me. At the time, it sounded pretty good. I thought maybe I would have the gorgeous rainbow of kids I was starting to gather up, and still get the pregnancy, childbirth, genetic continuation thing, too -- just a little later.
But now I think my window is closing. Not that it has to. But if I had another child, if I used some of the advanced treatments I eschewed before, it would just be selfish. It wouldn't be because I want to give something to that child. It would be just my own wanting to have a certain experience, to see a little me. Not to mention, I most often feel like I've bitten off more than I can chew with my four, and I really would like to have my youngest be my little Z, graduating from high school when I am only in my early 50s and letting me explore and accomplish some other things.
So I am really thinking about purposefully saying we are done, getting off the roller coaster permanently, taking care of the issues that incapacitate me physically a couple of days each month and give me emotional problems for about 20% of my life. That is a lot of life to give up for a dream that isn't really happening. I think there's more for me to do than just cope.
And that's where I am in the process, 15 years later.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
String
Around my finger to remember this.
Days when I melt down and cannot cope with the whining, lying, tattling, fighting, yelling or banging?
They are days when I have skipped my workout to go to the dentist, take kids to the doctor, catch up on home school, do the grocery shopping, clean up the house, or (!!!) rest.
I cannot skip workouts. They are my stubborn-girl Prozac. Who needs a clean house with a crazy mom? Nobody, that's who.
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
More randoms
- About a week ago I fell (a Cub-Scout-made stepstool slipped out from under me) and cracked a rib. I don't recommend this. It makes me glad to know that the created-from-Adam's-rib story is (in Brigham Young's words) a "baby story." Because, ouch. And I'm guessing there were neither Advil Liqui-Gels nor Vicodin tablets in Eden.
- New clothes feel so awesome. Or maybe it's because I can really wear warm clothes comfortably for the first time in several years. I got two new fitted layering turtlenecks (one black, one white) for Christmas and then bought myself two kind of 80s-shaped short-sleeve sweaters with deep V necks (one gray, one green) to wear over them. In Cali, about the most I could stand was a long-sleeved tee in the winter. Yay for cozy clothes.
- Saw two moms from the ward at the gym yesterday. Feel hopeful for gym/church friendships. Because of the aforementioned rib injury I am taking it sort of easy in my workouts - no ball crunches, lunge twists, push-ups. And no impact exercise (running on the treadmill). Just the elliptical trainer and some weight machines that allow me to hold my torso very very still.
- I have been up before 7:30 a.m. for TWO DAYS in a row. I am starting to feel like I actually want to do things other than lie in bed, eating candy and watching Buffy and Star Trek on DVD. This is a good sign for emergence from extremely geeky depression.
- Had to replace some homeschool curriculum (Language Arts and History) after our move. Chose k12. Love it. Love how their computer does the planning for me. Easy cheesy! However, there's no state funding for homeschooling in Montana. This gives me added motivation to prepare S for a return to the classroom this fall. I can't afford this!
- Z is still "The Real Snow White." However, her one true love is Victor from The Corpse Bride. "He talks nice," she says. Join the rest of us crushing on Johnny Depp, babe. Some like Pirates Johnny, some (like me) like Chocolat Johnny, some might even like ultra-clean and nervous Finding Neverland Johnny, but we all like him. Anyway the good news is, maybe now the missionaries will get a break.
I am prevailed upon to make popcorn. I have some New Year's sledding pictures to post after I recharge my camera batteries.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
The sun came out today
I have had my crazy on for the last week and a half or so. I didn't even fully know it until today.
When we got here it was way below zero. It was cloudy and dark and as you now know we had no stuff and I was PMSing like a maniac.
Then we got stuff, and it was just like a 500-pound to-do list landed in my lap. And I started getting guilty about being behind on homeschool stuff with S, and I did something to my car (a much more minor thing than I feared, and it's in the shop now and will be fixed by tomorrow, but still!) and then I got sick. Yesterday I basically stayed in bed all day guzzling water. Then G and I caught up on a couple of our favorite TV shows. And today - so much better.
And the sun really did come out, literally, and it was 40 degrees Fahrenheit on our back porch, and I went to the gym for the first time since we arrived, and my mom called and I took the kids driving around the base of the mountains to find potential hiking spots. It was so beautiful.
I think I am really going to like it here.
Monday, December 14, 2009
The Dimlight Saga, or My Adventures Moving Into a 1950s House in Montana
Really I am just going to tell you all what's been up with us for the last 10 days or so ... I do not have the energy to write this all in the clunky Stephenie Meyer style with lots of gazing and brooding and stuff.
Saturday morning the 5th, we left my parents' house about 9:30 AM. Almost as soon as we hit the freeway, there were flurries, and once we got to about Kaysville it was just wicked. G says he counted 20 cars off the road. We just went slow, slow, slow and were fine. Didn't have any luck reaching V so we could stop on the way and buy an office chair ... but with the weather like it was it was just as well we didn't need to stop. We got lunch at Arby's somewhere around Tremonton (yum, I haven't had Arby's in forever!) and headed on up the road. The roads got a lot better through Idaho, but there was still snow on them so we didn't go much faster than 65 the whole way. I had a hard time with this (boring!) but I did feel like G was probably inspired to keep it slow so we could stay safe, so I followed (mostly). We stopped for snacks at the Super WalMart in Idaho Falls. Wow, what a zoo!!! Monida Pass was really no sweat; a couple of the other passes in MT had more snow but it was dry and powdery, not too hard to drive on.
So, we got to our house around 8 PM, found the key hidden under a brick, got in no problem. The realtor had left us a goodie basket and a beautiful wreath. I went to the store, we ate some ham and some scalloped potatoes my mom had sent with us, and we went to bed. There was only about an inch of snow on the ground in Butte, and again, dry and powdery, no big.
Sunday morning, G called the number his aunt had given us for the church. Turns out it was the bishop's house. The bishop's wife told us church was at 9, so we hustled and made it on time. The kids were shockingly good - between exhaustion and shyness they hardly moved a muscle all through sacrament meeting. I wonder how long until that wears off? We introduced ourselves in Sunday School and RS and EQ - the usual. G was in charge of recruiting helpers to unload our moving truck - we thought it would be Tuesday afternoon at this point. A family in the ward invited us for dinner so we went over and had spaghetti and sat on furniture, which was nice. They have two little girls, ages 2 and 4, perfect little friends for Z.
Monday we took G to start work, and I intended for the two middle boys to start school, but I had inadvertently packed their shot records and birth certificates in the truck. Oops. So I made some calls to get their shot records faxed from our doctors' offices in California. Then I basically spent the morning on errands and shopping - ordering phone and internet service, setting up our water account, buying little stuff for the house. And big stuff - I got the LG washer and dryer at Sears. I could have saved a hundred bucks or so buying them in Cali and moving them here, but oh well. I don't actually feel too bad about that. True confession: I only took Z and left the boys at home alone. They had the TV and VCR we had brought with us in the car, and their Legos, and they were fine despite my worrying. Notice my worrying was not enough to induce me to take 4 kids on errands.
About 2 in the afternoon we decided to go to the YMCA and get a membership and swim. Just before we were to leave, I noticed the basement toilet was unflushed and flushed it and walked out. Well, I cannot remember what made me come back downstairs but I came back down about 5 minutes later and the toilet was overflowing and running everywhere. I shut the flap in the tank to stop the running and then went out -- with all 4 kids -- to buy a mop and bucket so I could clean up. Came back and cleaned up 3 big buckets of water out of the bathroom, then remembered I should check and see if the water had run into the utility room. Sure enough. So I cleaned up there. Then we went to the Y, got our membership, and swam for about 45 minutes. It is NICE! Z had a big tantrum because she didn't want to go home, and K got all dressed and stood by the showers, which someone then turned on and soaked his shirt. I just took it off and let him wear only his coat home. Remember it was below zero at this point, at the warmest part of the day. Crazy crap.
Tuesday A and K started school. We found out the truck was delayed in Salt Lake. I threw a big fit on the phone and got them to give me $50 for every day they were late. S and Z and I did a few more errands and got the gas fireplaces in the house going. I had bought a small heater fan to dry out the utility room, which still was damp. I didn't want to take any chances of growing mold in there (it's a susceptible area). Plugged it in that night and went to bed.
When we woke up in the morning, the master bedroom where we slept with the gas fireplace on was all cozy, but as soon as we stepped out, BRRRRRRRR! The rest of the house was about 50 degrees. I first thought that the heater had just kicked off because of the fireplaces - the furnace thermostat is by the fireplace in the living room; kind of dumb if you ask me. But when I turned that off it just got colder and colder and the furnace did not kick on. In the meantime my new washer and dryer were delivered, YAY! So I spent some time with the Sears guys installing them.
Saturday morning the 5th, we left my parents' house about 9:30 AM. Almost as soon as we hit the freeway, there were flurries, and once we got to about Kaysville it was just wicked. G says he counted 20 cars off the road. We just went slow, slow, slow and were fine. Didn't have any luck reaching V so we could stop on the way and buy an office chair ... but with the weather like it was it was just as well we didn't need to stop. We got lunch at Arby's somewhere around Tremonton (yum, I haven't had Arby's in forever!) and headed on up the road. The roads got a lot better through Idaho, but there was still snow on them so we didn't go much faster than 65 the whole way. I had a hard time with this (boring!) but I did feel like G was probably inspired to keep it slow so we could stay safe, so I followed (mostly). We stopped for snacks at the Super WalMart in Idaho Falls. Wow, what a zoo!!! Monida Pass was really no sweat; a couple of the other passes in MT had more snow but it was dry and powdery, not too hard to drive on.
So, we got to our house around 8 PM, found the key hidden under a brick, got in no problem. The realtor had left us a goodie basket and a beautiful wreath. I went to the store, we ate some ham and some scalloped potatoes my mom had sent with us, and we went to bed. There was only about an inch of snow on the ground in Butte, and again, dry and powdery, no big.
Sunday morning, G called the number his aunt had given us for the church. Turns out it was the bishop's house. The bishop's wife told us church was at 9, so we hustled and made it on time. The kids were shockingly good - between exhaustion and shyness they hardly moved a muscle all through sacrament meeting. I wonder how long until that wears off? We introduced ourselves in Sunday School and RS and EQ - the usual. G was in charge of recruiting helpers to unload our moving truck - we thought it would be Tuesday afternoon at this point. A family in the ward invited us for dinner so we went over and had spaghetti and sat on furniture, which was nice. They have two little girls, ages 2 and 4, perfect little friends for Z.
Monday we took G to start work, and I intended for the two middle boys to start school, but I had inadvertently packed their shot records and birth certificates in the truck. Oops. So I made some calls to get their shot records faxed from our doctors' offices in California. Then I basically spent the morning on errands and shopping - ordering phone and internet service, setting up our water account, buying little stuff for the house. And big stuff - I got the LG washer and dryer at Sears. I could have saved a hundred bucks or so buying them in Cali and moving them here, but oh well. I don't actually feel too bad about that. True confession: I only took Z and left the boys at home alone. They had the TV and VCR we had brought with us in the car, and their Legos, and they were fine despite my worrying. Notice my worrying was not enough to induce me to take 4 kids on errands.
About 2 in the afternoon we decided to go to the YMCA and get a membership and swim. Just before we were to leave, I noticed the basement toilet was unflushed and flushed it and walked out. Well, I cannot remember what made me come back downstairs but I came back down about 5 minutes later and the toilet was overflowing and running everywhere. I shut the flap in the tank to stop the running and then went out -- with all 4 kids -- to buy a mop and bucket so I could clean up. Came back and cleaned up 3 big buckets of water out of the bathroom, then remembered I should check and see if the water had run into the utility room. Sure enough. So I cleaned up there. Then we went to the Y, got our membership, and swam for about 45 minutes. It is NICE! Z had a big tantrum because she didn't want to go home, and K got all dressed and stood by the showers, which someone then turned on and soaked his shirt. I just took it off and let him wear only his coat home. Remember it was below zero at this point, at the warmest part of the day. Crazy crap.
Tuesday A and K started school. We found out the truck was delayed in Salt Lake. I threw a big fit on the phone and got them to give me $50 for every day they were late. S and Z and I did a few more errands and got the gas fireplaces in the house going. I had bought a small heater fan to dry out the utility room, which still was damp. I didn't want to take any chances of growing mold in there (it's a susceptible area). Plugged it in that night and went to bed.
When we woke up in the morning, the master bedroom where we slept with the gas fireplace on was all cozy, but as soon as we stepped out, BRRRRRRRR! The rest of the house was about 50 degrees. I first thought that the heater had just kicked off because of the fireplaces - the furnace thermostat is by the fireplace in the living room; kind of dumb if you ask me. But when I turned that off it just got colder and colder and the furnace did not kick on. In the meantime my new washer and dryer were delivered, YAY! So I spent some time with the Sears guys installing them.
When I went down to check on the furnace, I realized the header fan was not running, either. I had plugged it into the furnace plug. So clearly there was a circuit problem. I flipped the breaker a couple of times. Waited. No luck. Turned the fireplace upstairs back on so we wouldn't die. Finally went back down and started following cords from the furnace. I found an old 15 watt Buss fuse box and sure enough, the fuse was blown. I was really dreading going out looking for those fuses, but fortunately I found some spares in the basement storage room. Once I replaced it the furnace was humming again. More crazy crap.
That afternoon G's mom arrived from Bozeman, where she had been staying with G's brother, and of course immediately started working on my laundry. The woman cannot sit still. At least I had the washer and dryer so she could do something. The RS president from our new ward brought us dinner: ham and potato casserole, frog eye salad, sweet potato salad, carrots, and rolls. It seemed to us like a perfect assemblage of Mormon food and Butte food. Sweet potato salad is a local specialty. It's pretty good. It turns out the RS pres and MIL knew each other when they were teenagers here in town. It was a funny reunion to watch!
Thursday morning we expected the truck. I called to check on it. They told me it would not arrive until Friday. I cried and cried! I was so done with being in an empty house, plus I had horrible cramps and just felt awful. So we (G's mom and I) spent the entire day stripping out old Contac paper and cleaning out the kitchen cabinets. If I ever left a kitchen in that kind of state I think I would die of embarrassment. Yuck. Some of that paper and dirt had to have started along with the house in 1958. G's mom was an incredible sport. It was hard work, and the whole job just shredded my fingers and nails; they are finally not hurting now. In the evening we had Truzzolino's tamale pie, another local dish. It's a take-and-bake kind of deal. Pretty good. I have another one in the fridge waiting for a night when I don't feel like cooking. Probably gonna happen soon.
Friday morning the truck finally arrived. I don't know how this came to pass, but two men, two missionaries and three boys from the ward arrived simultaneously to unload. We had told people it would be Friday night. I don't know how they knew the truck was there that early. It was all done by noon. We are so grateful! G's mom unpacked the kitchen while I worked on getting boxes to the right rooms. Friday night we were invited to the bishop's house for pizza. The kids got along great and we really felt comfortable there - it was so nice.
Oh, and about my title: Almost all the lights in our house are these funky 50s fixtures that you have to pull down on springs and slide out the glass in order to change the bulbs. The former owner put really dim CFL bulbs in all of them. So you can hardly see in the house. I am going to have to go around and change all the bulbs. I'm terrified I'm going to break the glass; it will not be easy to replace if I do, being as old as it is. Also, the light switches are all Remcon relay switches, so every light can turn on and off from like 3 different places. It's a huge pain. One of the guys who helped unload the truck is an architect and he said they're worth a lot for people who are doing midcentury retro homes. Well, I am about ready to sell them off and get normal light switches. I looked them up on eBay and the internal wiring is worth about $40 per switch, to say nothing of the switch plates. We have 8 or 10 of them, plus spares in a box in the basement. I am starting to think that could go a ways toward paying for normal wiring in this house. So much to do.
That afternoon G's mom arrived from Bozeman, where she had been staying with G's brother, and of course immediately started working on my laundry. The woman cannot sit still. At least I had the washer and dryer so she could do something. The RS president from our new ward brought us dinner: ham and potato casserole, frog eye salad, sweet potato salad, carrots, and rolls. It seemed to us like a perfect assemblage of Mormon food and Butte food. Sweet potato salad is a local specialty. It's pretty good. It turns out the RS pres and MIL knew each other when they were teenagers here in town. It was a funny reunion to watch!
Thursday morning we expected the truck. I called to check on it. They told me it would not arrive until Friday. I cried and cried! I was so done with being in an empty house, plus I had horrible cramps and just felt awful. So we (G's mom and I) spent the entire day stripping out old Contac paper and cleaning out the kitchen cabinets. If I ever left a kitchen in that kind of state I think I would die of embarrassment. Yuck. Some of that paper and dirt had to have started along with the house in 1958. G's mom was an incredible sport. It was hard work, and the whole job just shredded my fingers and nails; they are finally not hurting now. In the evening we had Truzzolino's tamale pie, another local dish. It's a take-and-bake kind of deal. Pretty good. I have another one in the fridge waiting for a night when I don't feel like cooking. Probably gonna happen soon.
Friday morning the truck finally arrived. I don't know how this came to pass, but two men, two missionaries and three boys from the ward arrived simultaneously to unload. We had told people it would be Friday night. I don't know how they knew the truck was there that early. It was all done by noon. We are so grateful! G's mom unpacked the kitchen while I worked on getting boxes to the right rooms. Friday night we were invited to the bishop's house for pizza. The kids got along great and we really felt comfortable there - it was so nice.
Oh, and about my title: Almost all the lights in our house are these funky 50s fixtures that you have to pull down on springs and slide out the glass in order to change the bulbs. The former owner put really dim CFL bulbs in all of them. So you can hardly see in the house. I am going to have to go around and change all the bulbs. I'm terrified I'm going to break the glass; it will not be easy to replace if I do, being as old as it is. Also, the light switches are all Remcon relay switches, so every light can turn on and off from like 3 different places. It's a huge pain. One of the guys who helped unload the truck is an architect and he said they're worth a lot for people who are doing midcentury retro homes. Well, I am about ready to sell them off and get normal light switches. I looked them up on eBay and the internal wiring is worth about $40 per switch, to say nothing of the switch plates. We have 8 or 10 of them, plus spares in a box in the basement. I am starting to think that could go a ways toward paying for normal wiring in this house. So much to do.
But we are here, safe, warm, and relieved to be almost done moving. We miss our California friends. We're happy to be making new friends. We have good coats and a working furnace and beds to sleep in. Life is not too shabby.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Phobia
If there is one little everyday thing I hate and fear, it is this.
Calling someone on the telephone and asking them to do something.
Reminder calls to the Young Women got easier with time. But soliciting somebody to bring a plate of brownies to some function or other will still virtually send me into a cold sweat.
Calling around for a backup babysitter for Z when our regular sitter is sick or has something to do with her kids (she is also a foster mom so life is about as busy for her as it is for me) is paralyzing. I am well aware that stay-at-home moms have a lot to do. And although I consider the women around here to be my friends, let's face facts: we do not get together for pedicures or bunco. I do not have time. So when I call them, they know I am looking for a favor. Even if it is a favor for which I will pay, it makes me feel like a heel. There are several people I am not even comfortable calling anymore. They have said no frequently enough that I just am not going to ask anymore. I can take a hint, see?
So, I have been working from home with Z for the last two days, thanks to the stomach flu in the sitter's house. Looks like I am doing it again tomorrow, unless I can convince G that one day is not going to throw off his dissertation. It's fun, I love it, don't get me wrong. But I can't get squat done, and I have a Friday deadline. Sigh.
It's good, I suppose, to be clear about my reasons for not trying to move into the better-paying, better-dressed fundraising wing of my office. Can you imagine me doing "the ask" for a cool million? I'd be puking on the cool millionaire's shoes.
Calling someone on the telephone and asking them to do something.
Reminder calls to the Young Women got easier with time. But soliciting somebody to bring a plate of brownies to some function or other will still virtually send me into a cold sweat.
Calling around for a backup babysitter for Z when our regular sitter is sick or has something to do with her kids (she is also a foster mom so life is about as busy for her as it is for me) is paralyzing. I am well aware that stay-at-home moms have a lot to do. And although I consider the women around here to be my friends, let's face facts: we do not get together for pedicures or bunco. I do not have time. So when I call them, they know I am looking for a favor. Even if it is a favor for which I will pay, it makes me feel like a heel. There are several people I am not even comfortable calling anymore. They have said no frequently enough that I just am not going to ask anymore. I can take a hint, see?
So, I have been working from home with Z for the last two days, thanks to the stomach flu in the sitter's house. Looks like I am doing it again tomorrow, unless I can convince G that one day is not going to throw off his dissertation. It's fun, I love it, don't get me wrong. But I can't get squat done, and I have a Friday deadline. Sigh.
It's good, I suppose, to be clear about my reasons for not trying to move into the better-paying, better-dressed fundraising wing of my office. Can you imagine me doing "the ask" for a cool million? I'd be puking on the cool millionaire's shoes.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Peevish
Here are some things that bug!
- People who think they can do the work of a communications professional when their expertise is clearly elsewhere
- Falling rapidly through three layers of backup childcare givers who decline to be with my baby all day when I wish, only wish, I could do that myself (Their excuses? Emergency oral surgery, a sick baby, and ... a concert? OK, whatever!)
- This insane desire for peanut M&Ms when the office chocolate supplier is out of town and his usually-dependable candy jar is mournfully empty
- Uncertain future
- Not knowing where to start on my task list at 4 PM. What the crap can I do in an hour? Oh, I know. Blog.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Sorry if you thought you were my best friend
It's really this.It shuts up the parts of my body that are whining so loud I can't hear my brain. I won't mention which parts because I know some people are uncomfortable with the word uterus.
Haha!
In other news, here is Z's vocabulary:
- Hi
- Hat
- Hot
- Daddy
- Baba (bottle)
- Mom
Here are the songs she sings, without lyrics but with near-perfect rhythm and pitch:
- "Z-- is a Baby" (this is a proprietary family composition; I'm pretty sure you don't know it)
- "High and Low" from the Little People airplane
- "Patty-cake, Patty-cake, Baker's Man"
- "The Eensy-Weensy Spider"
Someday this girl will be a famous singer and I will be telling this story to reporters, or maybe an extremely aged Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul and Randy. (What's Randy's last name? I forgot. I don't have TV right now and have missed this whole season.)
Anyway, yet another evidence (along with the fondness for very dark chocolate) that she is my girl.
Monday, March 17, 2008
A big family can get a lot sick
So far this morning we have had the following diagnosed:
- 5 infected ears on 3 people
- 1 infected set of bronchii on one of the same 3
- potential pneumonia
- 2 sinus infections (me and G)
- 1 ear infection (G)
Friday, March 07, 2008
Wha-wa-wa-whine
I am sick. Z is sick. G is sick. S is sick.
Z's social worker is freaking me out. I got a copy of her report for next Tuesday's court hearing. It says the agency's recommendation for adoptive placement is "confidential." Our attorney confirmed this is not a good sign. It makes me want to throw up. Also to hide. I am trying to ignore this and shore up our defenses. This week we saw a family therapist in Modesto and secured her commitment to testify that moving Z at this point would create substantial risk for an attachment disorder.
I still feel like I am walking on eggshells at work. Whenever I take a day off, be it sick or vacation I feel worried. Things have changed. I just don't feel as comfortable as I used to. No one is rude or mean or harassing. But *I* know I have bitten off more than I can chew in the last year, and I am sure others do, too. It creates some pressure. And as my workplace grows, relationships are naturally less personal and casual. I miss that, and the new dynamic also creates more pressure for me.
I am tired of people saying to me, "I don't know how you do it." I don't know, either. Most of the time I feel like I don't do it, at least not well. I am just going to stop telling people I have four kids.
This pace is going to kill me.
I am getting all PMS bloated and crampy not to mention asthmatic, thanks to the amazing, beautiful valley in bloom. I have a new theory that if you catalogued all my whiny posts you would find them on a pretty reliable 29-day cycle.
Z's social worker is freaking me out. I got a copy of her report for next Tuesday's court hearing. It says the agency's recommendation for adoptive placement is "confidential." Our attorney confirmed this is not a good sign. It makes me want to throw up. Also to hide. I am trying to ignore this and shore up our defenses. This week we saw a family therapist in Modesto and secured her commitment to testify that moving Z at this point would create substantial risk for an attachment disorder.
I still feel like I am walking on eggshells at work. Whenever I take a day off, be it sick or vacation I feel worried. Things have changed. I just don't feel as comfortable as I used to. No one is rude or mean or harassing. But *I* know I have bitten off more than I can chew in the last year, and I am sure others do, too. It creates some pressure. And as my workplace grows, relationships are naturally less personal and casual. I miss that, and the new dynamic also creates more pressure for me.
I am tired of people saying to me, "I don't know how you do it." I don't know, either. Most of the time I feel like I don't do it, at least not well. I am just going to stop telling people I have four kids.
This pace is going to kill me.
I am getting all PMS bloated and crampy not to mention asthmatic, thanks to the amazing, beautiful valley in bloom. I have a new theory that if you catalogued all my whiny posts you would find them on a pretty reliable 29-day cycle.
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