Just Life

*update: I talked about life changes right about here. I was doing well on my "training". I was able to   jog walk jog..sort of...for 3 miles without stopping in a whopping 45 minutes. Not fast unless you consider I went from couch to 3 miles in 45 minutes within a couple weeks. Then I developed something that brought me to my knees, or more specifically, caused me to avoid touching or using my knees whenever possible. Then my jogging was put on hold for about 3 weeks. I'm getting ready to start again. I've almost kicked the Dt. Mtn. Dew habit. I have managed to cut my intake to only 2 or 3 20oz. bottles per week. I was easily drinking a 2 LITER per day. I have been FORCING myself to drink  50-60 oz of water per day.The biggest, and I think, most beneficial has been the addition of a cup of plain Greek yogurt with a teaspoon of honey, and 2 tbs. of milled flax seed added. I can't put into words the effect this has had on my digestive track, who (TMI) could gestate a "baby" for a week at times.
                                                                                                                                                                     

I'm coming to grips with not being the award-winning happy-to-stay-at-home mom.  I love being around my kids...mostly. I love having regular breaks from my kids. I would like to go to work, except I don't want them to have to spend the majority of their time at daycare. I could happily be Melissa Myers (?) the Yahoo CEO who has a power career and is ok spending lots of time at work. I could be if, their dad could be a SAHD while I work. Maybe there is something behind quality vs. quantity. I think if I worked, we would all benefit from 3 hours of time in the evening where I felt like focusing on them because I'd missed them all day. Now I just want them to WATCH TV ALREADY! oh yeah! except I don't want them to watch TV. They didn't in the first 3 years of life (we didn't have a TV until about 3 years ago). I rush to get them in bed in under 15 minutes because NO! I don't feel like reading ANOTHER book because we've read, wrote, counted, sang, fought, timed-out, wiped messes, and developed headaches all. day. long.  Then I look at their faces and see how sweet and fast time is. I want to embrace these moments. Then I think of something I need to do. Then I feel guilty because even though I'm there almost 24/7...I'm not THERE.
                                                                                                                                                                     
Is it too much to hope for that the peace of the last 2 months will hold? It's been the most peaceful weeks of the last 7 years. I'll take what I can get.

Endings That Come Too Soon

LINKING UP WITH mamakatslosinit.com    FOR HER WRITER'SWORKSHOP.

I chose prompt #1 this week.  How old were you? Share one of the first news stories you remember caring about.

 I remember going to the lake to swim every summer when I was growing up. We often went to a camping place known as Jamison Mill Park at Philpott Lake, Virginia. Some of my earliest memories are of swimming. I was always a water baby and never scared of the water. I was too daring and almost drown myself by walking out into a river and stepping on a "drop-off" before I learned to swim. Luckily, I was able to get my toe on the ground and push myself toward the shore enough to get back on my feet, or maybe it was just that the current carried me a few feet down river and since the bottom wasn't level it was not as deep. Anyway...

When I was around 5 yrs old I heard my grandmother and aunt talking about a little girl of 4 who had drown at the same swimming area at the lake where we often went. They were looking at her picture in the paper, and I remember being curious and asking all kinds of questions. Maybe I related it to my own experience in the riverIt was the first time I realized that kids could die, and it stuck with me. Eventually, I forgot it until years later I was looking through and old scrapbook and came upon the newspaper clipping. I asked my grandmother why she had it since as far as I knew the family wasn't someone we knew personally. She said that I had been very insistent that she cut out that article and save it that she had done it and forgotten about it through the years.

It's weird that I can still remember her name and face I guess. I still think about her and what would her life have been like. Would she have been happy? or had kids? The same questions I'm sure her parents still have.

Am I The Tortoise or The Hare?

LINKING UP WITH  thingsicantsay .com FOR THE "POUR YOUR HEART OUT" WEEKLY EVENT.

I've struggled with my weight off and on over my whole adult life. I've weighed anywhere from 115lbs.  at 5'2" to 210lbs. on the day I gave birth to my Zavie. I managed to lose most of the baby weight gained during 3 pregnancies from Feb. 2006 to Jan.2009. However, as usual, I let emotions and stress take precedence over my health and buried my sorrows in Whoppers, Hamburger Helper, and chocolate cheesecake. I've always wanted to be a runner, but never took the plunge. I signed up for my first 5k coming up May 11. I've been jogging everyday. I feel good after I do it, but motivating myself isn't always so easy. I've been clinging to the thoughts that once I have been doing it for about 10 minutes I'm fine, and so far that's kept me going.

I have panic attacks when I think of Scrooge and I being 'older' parents and not having close family to take over if something were to happen to both of us. Thankfully, Scrooge is in great physical shape and hopefully that means he'll be around for a long time, but I want to see my kids grow up and have families too. I don't want my grandkids to have to have imaginary grandparents the way some kids have imaginary friends (they really do talk about their imaginary grandparents).

Will this be the time I stick with my "life-changes"? I wish I could say it is, but from experience I know starting out strong is easy but it's holding the pace that's important.

Breaktime

I'm happy to say that this school year is over in 3-4 more weeks. It depends on how fast we cover the material left in the lesson planner.

I will be happy to have a break from checking off the attendance each day. Checking off the lessons. Uploading and sending our Portfolio items.

A FEW OF THE CONS OF HOMESCHOOLING (FOR ME):

schedules: 
If it were completely up to me I would probably do more self-directed learning with my kids. I try to do that now as much as possible while following the planner from the public virtual school Zindie is enrolled in. I nearly drove myself crazy trying to follow a schedule during the first semester. I'm NOT good doing detailed schedules. When I make an attempt I end up feeling like my head will explode, or what I imagine it would be like if my head were to explode. I can stick to a basic schedule. Something like Monday: clean the car, go to post office Tuesday: call dentist office.

Now I take the lessons from the planner and read them to Zindie to find out which one she is more interested in for the day. If she's not into it I'll make up something different to do that accomplishes the same thing. Some days we skip a subject all together and make it up by focusing on doing that stuff for that subject another day.

kids around 99.9% of the time:
I was an only child in my household. I was raised by my father and never spent the night with my mother (after the age of 1), so I never spent time with my siblings growing up. Other than the experience with my kids, I don't know how siblings interact on a day to day basis when they're small. Sometimes the amount of petty bickering makes me freak-out thinking they're going to never enjoy each other's company as adults. The All. The. Time. noise sometimes drives me a little crazy, and I find myself screaming just to be heard. The I'll have to watch a few episodes of Supernanny to regroup and gain reminders of how to control the chaos.

constantly explaining how homeschool kids can be well socialized:
This is possibly one of the most irritating things about homeschooling. I have asked  'The Askers' if their child gets in trouble often for talking during class. When they (usually) say no I explain that it's probably that they're doing school work during the day rather than socializing. "Since they usually have on average a 30 minute lunch, a 30 minute recess, and maybe and hour total before/after school then they don't really get that much time to "socialize". My kids have and hour or two on most days at the park having free-time playing with kids of their choice (instead of being stuck with the same kids day in and day out). Some days when we go to storytime, the science museum, or some other event they spend  more time than that. They spend time with people of all ages rather than mostly people their own age. Most homeschool families I know spend plenty of time interacting with others their age. On top of all this, I would like to be the one to model the behavior my kids see the majority of  time rather than them watching how other kids behave and trying to follow that. As we all know, the socializing kids receive from peers these days isn't always the best or we wouldn't have to have national  "stop the bullying", "stop the violence" campaigns year round. School is not the ONLY answer for teaching our kids to adjust and survive in society. It's a fine fit for some families, and there is NOTHING wrong with that...it's just not the best for our family RIGHT NOW.

A FEW OF THE PROS OF HOMECHOOLING (FOR ME):

kids around 99.9% of the time:
Despite the noise and bickering and my wanting to just have a break already! I enjoy being around my kids, and on the days that I manage to be a super cool, calm and collected mom who does science projects and declares we'll have school time at the pool, I think my kids enjoy being around me too. Maybe not so much on the "ok...we're going to have a clean-the-whole-house" days.

no homework:
Of course with homeschooling all the work is homework, but it's not done on top of having to spend 7-8 hours apart each day and still needing to fit in dinner, sports, and baths. When we're done with schoolwork we're not really DONE since we try to incorporate what we're learning into things we're doing for real life lessons, but we don't have to sit down filling out worksheets until it's time to get ready for dinner or bath time.

I'll admit to having days when I just wanted to march these kids into the office of our local school and say "here they are..you do it!"  (since we're doing virtual school through our public school system it really is easy...it's just a matter of transferring like we would to switch from one school to another). If I did this, it would only be because in that moment I would be giving into wanting the school to babysit them.

Next year we'll be participating in a local co-op homeschool group one day per week. I'm excited about it, and I hope it'll be the break we need to break up the hum-drum without having to drive an hour to the science and art museums in the area.  We do this on a regular basis now, but sometimes it's not too convenient.



 

Helping Hands

I have a neighbor who has a six week old baby boy. She has 2 other kids ages 19 and 20. This pregnancy was not planned and she's been having some trouble adjusting to it. Her husband is having to work lots of overtime to make extra money for all the things  a new baby cost.

I've never spoke with this woman before last week when I saw her out walking with the baby in a stroller. I could just hear in her voice that she wasn't doing "great". I knew because I had been right there in her spot. I tried to give her as much reassurance without being "pushy".

Then I saw that Scrooge was talking with her while out doing some yard work. She had just came home and was showing him the baby. He came in a little later and said that "R" was saying she'd probably call me in a week or two to get together. She was feeling kind of alone, etc...

I was going to wait for her call, but then I remember how hard it is to talk about those new mommy feelings. How hard it is to even gain the energy to do anything. Especially when you're trying to do everything. Scrooge said she told him she thought I was so nice and immediately felt drawn to me as someone she'd like to know. Now I've decided to maybe pick up a family-size take out meal from a local restaurant ( I have enough meals to cook already and I HATE cooking except at Holidays) and take it over to her. The day we were talking I offered to watch the baby while she showered, napped, cooked, read a book, etc...I told her how just getting in the small personal things could be so important to her personal well-being (like I'm an expert on doing good things for myself..phhhhst).

I want to reach out and help her and let her know that I'm here. Even though we've never taken time to really get to know each other (Scrooge knows them both better than I do) I am here. I understand anything she could say. Any fear. Any frustration. Everyone needs someone who listens and can understand no matter what the situation. I can try to give her the support that I lacked while first dealing with PPD. Even if she's not experiencing PPD then support is important.

It feels good to know what someone needs and be able to give it to them.

Release

Why I no longer believe in god. Why I moved from devoted Christian, to confused Christian, to doubtful Agnostic, and now just plain Athiest. 

I was raised in a Christian home. Actively going to church until right before I moved out on my own as I turned 18. I tried to live my life according to the bible. I admit that in those first few years of being on my own, I made mistakes. I pushed boundaries by smoking and drinking. Then I buckled down and really got serious. 

I thought that all the bad things that happened to me must be because I wasn't a strong enough Christian. In my mind, it was always something I wasn't doing right. The I began to be angry at the God I thought existed. When I had questions they were always answered in a way that removed any blame from him, He knows best. His Will be done. God doesn't make mistakes. God gives us free will. Then he got all the glory for the good things. If a child died of Cancer...we shouldn't question why, but if a child didn't die of cancer then we should praise God.

It began to sound too "iffy" to  me. What was the point in spending my time, money, and hope in Someone who seemed to randomly show up. Someone who couldn't be bothered to at least save innocent children from being molested, beaten, dying from cancer?

I could understand better about bad things happening to the adults who had grown up to do nasty things to others. Even then, it left me to question this idea of free-will and the fairness of it all. How much free-will does a person really have if they've been mistreated, abandoned, and taught wrong from a young age. So much to the point that it effects their mental capacity to really understand why certain actions are wrong. I'm not talking about insanity, but just never really having been taught good from bad in anything other than the most general abstract terms.

I can't believe there is a God who would allow these things to happen to me throughout my life. I don't deserve it, and I just now realize that it IS NOT RIGHT! If there were a God...why would I care to serve him when he COULD have stepped in and helped me out many times. Did he want to test me? Well if he did, then the bible was wrong because he did give me more than I could handle. 

I have friends and cousins who did some of the same "rebellion" I did as a teenager, but they managed to find a partner for life who loved and cherished them. They were never molested as a child. They were not abandoned by their mother. Why? Why even as a young age was I given so much to bear?    

Don't get me wrong...I had a set of loving grandparents, a dad, and an aunt who were wonderful and in most ways my childhood was awesome. They never knew of the molestation by an older cousin. 

Instead of saying "what did I do to deserve all this?" I choose to not believe in a God who would allow this. He never made it better when I was or wasn't serving or believing in him. He never made it better when my first husband was yanking me around by my hair while I was praying in my mind "Jesus...please help me. Please!" I would go to church and pray harder. Try to treat others even better. Then I'd get home and face it again and be blamed for going to church because I thought the Pastor was "good-looking".  

I finally can feel free to let go of this idea for good that there is no God who can be pleased or displeased. It's not that I have not been enough to live up to his standards to deserve his protection. It's that he was never there to begin with.

Hickory DIckory Dock

This post is inspired by the writing prompts found at Mamakatslosinit.com. The prompts are an awesome way to get through a slump when you feel like you can't find anything to write about. Write the post. Then just link back and join in the fun.

My choice this week was#1: Write a post that begins and ends with the same line. 

The clock was ticking away as I lay in bed waiting for the sounds of stirring in the rooms down the hall and the faint traces of sunlight slipping in around the closed blinds. I thought how comforting the ticking was in the otherwise quiet house.

The day took a turn for the worse while the kids were at a neighbor's birthday party. Scrooge decided he'd had enough of whatever it was pissing him off at the moment. He slammed my laptop on the floor busting it open then disassembled it to snap the hard drive, cut my purse in two, shredded the paper contents that was in the purse, and smashed the antique chair that belonged to my grandfather.  I talked about it here

This chair was the chair my grandfather and I had spent many hours in while he held me on his lap telling me stories. He was blind, but his imagination painted magical images for me. 

The broken chair hurt more than any insults could ever hurt. Now it will never hold it's special place by my Christmas tree again.

As I lay in the psych care unit, after being Baker-Acted for suicidal thoughts, all I could think about was the lost pictures and the broken chair...not the hatefullness behind what caused their demise. 

There was no TV there. No magazines to pass the time until the psychiatrist could make his rounds. Only a nurses desk and a clock. 

That clock was ticking away as I lay in bed waiting for the sounds of stirring in the rooms down the hall and the faint traces of sunlight slipping in around the closed blinds.