Hope and Books

I haven't forgotten about this little place. I've just been continuing to remain immersed in my paranormal romance, fantasy, action packed, forbidden love stories that keep my mind off all the things I should be doing and thinking through. Just so you fully understand my new found obsession, I decided to include a list of all the books I've read over the past few months at the end.

Other than my head being buried in a book 24/7, or more accurately my phone or iPad on the kindle app, I've also been contemplating what I want to do with my life. Yes, yoga was a dream and I finally completed my certification... but then found that it remains challenging to teach with my kids still so young. On top of that it also means my own practice has slacked off so much I have to wonder if I should be teaching right now. Not having a husband I can trust to leave my kids alone with, for fear of him drinking the moment I walk out the door, started to make my dream more an anxiety filled task. At the same time, feeling trapped at home with my only role being "Mommy" has made me realize I am not the mother I thought I would be. Or could be. Most of the time I don't even feel like I'm a good mom. 

My solution... I need to go back to work. I need time away from my kids so I can regain patience and enjoy their sweet little smiles and intoxicating giggles. The problem... I don't have an overwhelming passion to do much of anything. Other than teach yoga... but I can't exactly teach 4 classes back to back every day without burning out quickly. So, in between my reading and the typical mommy duties... I've been brainstorming how to bring a bit of happiness back to my life via some sort of work I desire to do outside of the home. 

My favorite job was a Starbucks barista. That and my waitress job in south beach. Since I can't exactly pick up and move back to the  beach, I think my solution is to find a cute little local coffee shop and get back to keeping the community awake! While I'd love to go back to getting a "real" paycheck, I also do not want to add to my stress level. Being a therapist isn't the most stress free of career choices so... making coffee... that I can do. A barista is nothing short of a daytime bartender anyway and we all know a bartender is as close to a therapist without the need to confidentiality as you can get. Couple that with some yoga classes, and hopefully a number of privates to make child care worth the cost, and I just may be able to reclaim a piece of that ever elusive happiness I'm always seeking. If nothing else, a consistent break from my sole role of mommy so I can get back to enjoying the most important "job" I have. The only one that really matters. And there you have it. My big plan.

Though our upcoming move has left me with a bittersweet feeling and the anxiety of finding that "perfect" home has finally come to an end, as of today actually, I'm slowly allowing myself to feel a small sense of hope. I gave up allowing myself to feel hope some time ago; around when I realized I wasn't going to leave my husband and he wasn't going to fight the alcoholic in him hard enough to overcome it either. So to even feel an inkling of hope right now is a rather foreign emotion and I'm not sure how to react to it. My first instinct is to push it aside because allowing hope to surface has only left me feeling hopeless far too many times over the past handful of years. I'm fighting that urge though. With a new home on the horizon and a solid plan in place to get myself back out in the world of the living, I think allowing myself to feel a bit of hope is a positive first step in the right direction. 

In the meantime... there's the fun parts of moving to be accomplished like getting our new doctors in place, or old ones reestablished, getting the kids into a new school, packing... again, getting on the schedule at a yoga studio or two, changing our address...again. And of course there's many more of my vampire, witches, werewolves, fairy and other supernatural creatures apocalyptic filled drama and love stories left to indulge in. 

So my friends, here's to giving hope another shot. And may you never lose your hope like I did. It's really no way to live. 

Namaste.


And as promised... My "recent" book list. Recent as in about the past 5 months. Like I said, I have a problem! Yes, I've read all of these. Some a couple of times. And I may have missed some as formatting all this was a pain in the butt! Some are for an adult audience, which I didn't realize at the time, but they were excellent.


 

Giving the werewolves some love too.
2 in this series and definitely for
adults only.

 

There's 5 or 6 of this series depending
how you buy it. Very unique.
Can be more violent than one
might like but it's cheap and very good.

I hate to even say I read this series b/c it said it was going to continue with another trilogy and then the author just went MIA. But it was interesting... with no real ending.



Loved this series. 3rd one in
trilogy is not released yet. Check
out author's page here.







6 in this series. Last one to be
released in May. 1st one is a
movie already. Read them all in
5 days! Check them out here.

There are 10 books total in this series 
(Vampires Realm) and a few shorts you
can download for free here. Loved them all.


 







Only read first 3. Another adult read.
Same author as Vampires Realm. Sharing
my supernatural love with angels :)





Yup, read all 13. Prefer the original
author but I was hooked so I kept
on until the end. More to come! Order
to read is here. NOTHING like the show.

My most recent read. Cried my eyes out during
book 3! Unique, action and epic love story!



Just a good romance series. No
supernatural stuff. Series is here.


 

Hell Hath No Fury...

- William Congreve, 1670-1729

 

Or more commonly known by the shortened version... hell hath no furry like a woman scorned.

I always felt this saying was all too true. Well, I'm a Scorpio, so it's certainly true for me! Recently though, I've been thinking of this saying in relation to depression.  When I read the original quote, I couldn't help but ponder the symbolism even more.

Depression takes everything from you, not just your ability to be happy. It turns your self love into loathing. "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned". And it feels a bit like a woman scorned. It hits with a vengeance and it's only purpose is to make you suffer. People don't typically associate this saying with depression or mental illness but I can't help but see the likeness.

A lot of people have been talking about mental health issues lately, since the Sandy Hook and Batman movie murders, but what a lot of people seem to forget are the everyday Jane's (and Joe's) out there, like myself. The doctors and teachers... the Target cashier... lawyer... firefighter... our neighbor's... our friends and so many of us Mommy's. We aren't about to go on some shooting spree and most of us aren't "crazy", well maybe a bit bat shit crazy but not the straight jacket kind people are referring to.  But, we suffer from depression and anxiety and all sorts of other mental health issues nonetheless.

Of all the people out there, I think it's most difficult for mother's to admit and talk about their depression. For one, not only do people lack understanding but they are painfully judgemental when it comes to what a mother "should" be. And well, depressed is not something we are supposed to be. We are responsible for these sweet little angles whose smile could heal any ailment and whose hugs can melt the heart of the most bitter human being. We are blessed. There's so many who can't have kids or afford to adopt and who want what we have. We are responsible for teaching them what happiness is, how to work through sorrows and disappointments in life and everything in between. We can't be depressed because it will assuredly screw them up. Right?! Why on earth did we ever even have kids to begin with since depression has a genetic component and all? Yup, I've read that before. I've read it all and quite frankly, it just makes the depressed mother more depressed! These judgements ring through my head when I'm at my lowest point.

When I'm good, I could care less what the judgy, ignorant species think or say so that's when I'm working to build up those who are listening to these harsh criticisms. To educate and let truth flow! Like now.

Aside from my anger in relation to my husband's alcoholism, I tend to avoid talking about my own issues all that much. I like to focus on the positives, the good parts of life, the ups and downs that come with the insanity of parenthood. I like to focus on bettering myself, not only as a mother but as a human being. There's always room to grow and focusing on the rut you're in simply keeps you in that rut.

The truth of it is though, I've struggled with anxiety and depression since I was a teenager. I've gone many years without needing medication and many years with it as well. I always fight it even when I know I need that pill again. It was no different this time around. My body fought it too. It took four tries before finding one that worked but when I did, I noticed a difference almost instantly, which isn't that common. It usually takes weeks. So, once again I let go of my own "shoulds" and "shouldn't nots" and told myself it was ok if I needed something to help me reset. If it means I can be a better mom, then I'm willing to do anything it takes.

Then I had some side effects, or possible side effects, which gave me an excuse to try to wean off after only a couple months. Not. A. Good. Idea.

I felt like I lost my mind one night. The typical feelings of worthlessness and there's no point to be here feelings came on in a flash after the kids gave me a run for my money all day and I was upset at getting so upset with them. I hate myself when I yell at them over what I feel is really insignificant things. Yes, they need to listen and follow directions and can't expect everything right NOW, and all those things that can lead to self-rightous, selfish little twits who talk back and have no respect and you just want to slap upside the head. But they are 2 and 3 for crying out loud! I can let it go. Really, I can. But even as I hear my not so crazy self talk telling me this, the more neurotic side is in there saying, this is it, if they learn they can walk all over you now then you might as well throw in the towel, you failed as a parent! The neurotic side often wins. That neurotic side is also part my behavior therapist side. But as a mom, I have. to. let. it. go!!!

Like tonight. Which is what brought me back to this post.. which has been sitting for awhile now. It was a yelling day. And night. And I'm feeling like a craptasic mommy. I used the word "craptastic" now 3 times today. Yup, THREE. The thing is, I started back on my little blue pill after the night I lost my mind and my husband looked at me like I was insane. So why the yelling now? I'm feeling good. Better anyway. Maybe I need to take the whole thing since I thought 1/2 was enough (which is what you start with, I didn't just making that up!). Maybe I'm just stressed. Maybe the monsters really were extra difficult today. Daddy is out of town and mommy doesn't throw them around and let them get away with anything. Maybe they just needed to let loose a bit and I was being too anal. I probably was. I can be anal.

I have a hard time finding that happy medium you need as a parent. I lean more towards the, follow the rules and listen to what I say or else sideof things. Odd, since my mom was the complete opposite! Granted, I listened for the most part. She even says she doesn't ever remember me being like these two crazy kids are. Today, I really could understand why my Pap used to pull his belt off when my mom and her siblings misbehaved. I don't condone it, but I understand!

So where do I go from here? Perhaps a full little blue pill will do the trick. Perhaps if I just stop making excuses and get back into my yoga routine more regularly is all I need. There's so many things I want and need to do for me to feel healthy, mentally and physically, but like most mom's I do for everyone else first and think I've been successful if I just remember to eat three meals a day. If I get a shower on top of eating then I'm really kicking some ass butt that day.

Yes, my daughter ass butt now. It's great. No, she didn't learn it from me.

So, to all my mommy's out there who have fought the battles with depression, or anxiety, or any other mental health issue that no one wants to talk about or that people judge you for, you are certainly not alone. Heck, I recently realized nearly every mom blogger or awesome blog page I've visited that the mommy in charge is dealing with some sort of mental health issue! So, alone is one thing I am certain you are not.

Depression doesn't define you... or me. It doesn't make us bad mommy's. It can, but it doesn't have to. I'd rather act like the woman scorned by depression than depression trapping me in "hell".

I don't actually believe in hell, thus the quotes. But this isn't a religious post so that's neither here nor there.

Anyway, I do honestly believe everything is mind over matter. If you want something enough, it will come. Because you will make it happen. Knowing I need a pill from time to time doesn't change that. It just helps me to make the things I want happen!

So, off to do a bit a yoga, because I need it... and I think I won the bedtime battle tonight!

Our Daily Comedy Show

We are in that stage where our home has turned into a stand up comedy club. It's a new act daily, courtesy of our 3&1/2 year old daughter. I thought I'd share some of her latest routines with you all from this past week or so. So, without further adieu... in no particular order.... but we'll start with an all time favorite....


"Look at this big, nasty boogie!"



After breakfast Rylie came running over to get wiped off and stopped dead in her tracks as she excitedly pointed at the Keurig
"It's peeing, Mommy, it's peeing!"
When I finished laughing, because she obviously kept saying it once she saw it was entertaining me, I told her it wasn't peeing, it was brewing coffee.
Rylie: Look! It's brewing coffee!!
Mommy: I know honey, I hit the brew button.
Rylie: Oh, good idea, Mommy!
Yes, yes, it is. Coffee is always a good idea.



"Caleb, look at my butt, I hurt it, here look".
I called in to them as I got up to go check out the situation...
 "It's okay, Ry, he doesn't need to look at your butt".
I entered the room...
"Keep your panties on, you don't just pull your panties down and show people your butt".
Oh, the things you never think you'll say... and then you become a mom!

Rylie: But I hurt it on the trampoline, Mommy. He needs to look at my boo boo.
Fair enough. I asked if it was okay and she said yes so I gave her little tush a rub and they continued with their jumping on the trampoline.
Next thing I know they are in the play room and I hear...
"Caleb, check out my butt."
I go in and there she is on her back, legs in the air, panties down and the boy is looking at her girl parts with an expression on his face that says, what the heck?!
Mommy: Rylie! Pull your panties up, you don't show people down there.
Hey, maybe he'll deliver babies someday, but Oh. My. Gosh. Seriously?



Caleb throws all the puzzles.
Rylie: Oh, geez Louise, silly, crazy boy. That's not very good.
Daddy: Who taught her that? She sounds like a 70 year old grandma.

Mommy yells upstairs, "Ry, what are you doing up there?"
Rylie: Cleaning my floor.
I go up. "Why are you cleaning your floor? What happened?"
She has a new toothbrush out and the hand towel from their bathroom, she's scrubbing the carpet with the toothbrush...
Rylie: Why is (aka: "because") I need to clean it.
I feel the carpet...
"Why's your carpet wet?"
Rylie: Why is ("because"), I'm cleaning it.
Me thinking... umm ok. So, do I keep the toothbrush? I mean, it's brand new!
Mommy: ok, well, let's go downstairs for snack.

I put the toothbrush and towel away.
When I got downstairs she's has the fridge door open and has stopped getting her milk to take her panties off...
Mommy: What are you doing?!
Rylie: My panties are wet.
Mommy: Did you pee them?
Rylie: Yeah.
Mommy: Well hurry up and get in the bathroom to finish.
Rylie runs to the bathroom and as I follow a light bulb goes off.
Mommy: Um, Ry, is that why your carpet was wet? Did you pee on it?
Rylie: Um, Yeah. That's not very good. But it doesn't matter.
Me thinking... WHAT?!  It doesn't matter? Now I really need to figure out of I'm going to save that toothbrush! crap.



"Oopsie, spaghettio"
I love the combo action she uses on this one!




Caleb is under my legs crying as I do the dishes.
Mommy: Rylie, what did you do to him?
Rylie: I pushed him.
Mommy: Is it okay to push our brother?
Rylie: No
Mommy: Then why do you keep doing it?
Rylie: Because it's fun.
Mommy: Go take a time out




Rylie sitting on the potty...
"Remember, poop stinks."
Yes, yes, thanks for the reminder, Ry.




Mommy: Rylie, did you pee yet?
Rylie: Not quite.

Mommy: Ready to eat lunch?
Rylie: Not quite. In a bit.

Daddy: Snuggle up. Are you all comfy?
Rylie: Not quite.

Mommy: Ready for bed?
Rylie: Not quite.

Mommy: Are you ready to get out of the shower?
Rylie: No, Not quite.

I think you are catching on to this act, yes? No idea where she picked up the "not quite" from.



Rylie enters a room....
"Hey, what's going on in here?!"



Mommy watching Rylie and Daddy have a "picnic" in the igloo I built them. Rylie just gave Daddy some food...
Daddy: What are you going to eat?
Rylie: I'm going to eat my boogies.
Daddy: Why are you going to eat boogies?
Rylie: Why is ("because") they are my favorite food.
Mommy hides face to laugh but can't stop!




Working on writing her name...
Mommy: Are you going to turn that P into an R?
Rylie: Yup...Ab-so-lutely.




Finishing up lunch....
"First I'll finish my smoothie, then we'll go look at the fishes. Sound like a plan, Daddy? Ok."




In bed...
"Mommy...Mommy!"
I go up. "Yes, Ry?"
She says something I can't understand.
"What did you say"
Rylie: Remember, (singing) Look a little closer and find out what you want to know.
Mommy: (laughing) But I asked you what I want to know.
Rylie: singing Daniel Tiger again... "Look a little closer and find out what you want to know"
Mommy: (still laughing) Ok, I will, go to sleep.

A few minutes later.... repeat above

A few minutes later.... repeat again.
Mommy isn't laughing anymore. I took Philosophy 101 over 15 years ago and I'm not in the mood.




Mommy: Good Morning Rylie
Rylie: Good morning birdie, birdie Mommy.




Rylie: I'm Pluto
Daddy: Oh, well what does Pluto eat for dinner?
Rylie: Pluto eats fruits and vegetables.
Daddy: Fruits and vegetables?! (I'm sure thinking, ooh, maybe we have a shot with this tonight)
Rylie: That's right Pluto Daddy.
This turns into Pluto Dad becoming Dr. Dad and then a game of fetch, with a stethoscope as her tail.




Puts on some dress up princess clothes.
"Look, Mom! I look beautiful!"




Rylie: Caleb, do you want to play with me?
Caleb: Yeah.
Rylie: Here, I'll make you hot cocoa.
Caleb: Yeah.
Rylie: Ok, I'm hungry. Go get me food, Caleb.
Caleb: Oh, Ok. (Runs to find her real food)
Rylie: Thank you, Caleb. Caleb, I need my milk.
Caleb: Oh, Ok. (Runs to get her milk from the fridge)
Rylie: Thank you, Caleb. Caleb, read me a book.
Rylie: Caleb, read me another book, no I want this one.
Caleb: Oh, Ok. Here you go.
And on and on an on.....

Rylie: Caleb, let's be butterflies. Here's your wings. I'll help you put them on.
Caleb: Yeah.


Her poor brother.

"Rylie, how about some peaches?"
Rylie: No way Jose!



"Rylie, are you ready for school?"
Rylie: After a while.



Mommy: It's not time to get up Ry. Go back to sleep.
Rylie: But it's a beautiful nice day out there. I want to play out outside in the snow.
(No, the out outside is not a typo)



Just 5 minutes ago...
Daddy asks me if the wings are hot.
Rylie: Wings?! For me? (she doesn't eat meat)
Daddy: Sure, you can try them.
Rylie: That's right. I can do anything!



Lessons I've learned from my 3 year old....

We watch too much PBS and Disney Go.
Her self esteem is not lacking.
We have a serious booger picking issue.
My 3 year old is in charge of, well, just about everything!

This may not be as funny written as it is in the moment. I figure if nothing else, it's a good way for me to remember all the nutty things she does!

Hmmm, Three?

After Caleb was born, I was 99.5% sure he was my last. He would be my baby. Two was quite enough! It was perfect, one hand for each kid, we wouldn't be out numbered, one sibling wouldn't be left out or feel like the black sheep. They would either be best friends or do their own thing. We wouldn't go broke and best of all, no way we'd ever need a mini van!

NO, no, no, I'm NOT pregnant!

But lately, the more I think about my baby turning 2 in two very short months the more I miss it. Not the sleepless nights or screaming. Or trying to figure out what the hell they want and feeling like you're going to rip your hair out. I don't miss the diapers; which I still deal with BUT I've been so excited about the boy's interest in potty training and can see the light at the end of the tunnel with that one! I don't miss the baby food and complete helplessness.... But I miss something.

I have this urge to feel that tiny life growing and doing yoga in my belly. I forget all the pains and exhaustion and overwhelming desire to just get the baby OUT during those last couple months. For a few weeks now those memories are masked by this longing I can't quite describe. Maybe it's the bond, the excitement, knowing our lives are about to change forever. When I used to get antsy like this it just meant it was time for me to move to a new state or make some big change in my life... not have a baby!!

I also realized I miss nursing. To be honest, that sometimes makes me shake my head because in the midst of exclusively breast feeding I feel a bit trapped after awhile. Especially with my son who was not interested in a bottle and I even had to throw out some pumped milk that he refused to drink. The stress over the fluctuations in milk production and weaning and watching what you eat, what medicines you take or when you have a glass of wine can really start to take it's toll. Yet, I think I would extend breast feeding to at least a year and a half, given another chance. Ironic, I know. Maybe I'm just depressed that some men have larger breasts than I do at this point! Whatever it is, I miss it and feel a bit sad with the realization I won't have that type of bond again. Or at least that would be beyond awkward at this point!

I mentioned recently how I've been thinking a lot about how quickly it all goes. How fast children really do grow up. How the problems of refusing to clean up their play room and throwing food, potty training and fighting over who has which truck rapidly become worrying about whether you've taught them well enough to recognize "stranger danger", other dangerous situations and people that would hurt them, or worse. And then praying they fully grasp the dangers of drugs or drinking and driving and (gasp) unprotected sex, and on and on. Maybe I just want to prolong those worries a bit by still having the "easy" worries of a younger child to contend with.

I think about how exciting it would be to NOT find out the gender of this imaginary child. Since we have one of each, it really doesn't matter to me and there are few things in life that can be a true surprise like that. I still have some names I love and would be excited to use. I would love to honor my Pap by naming one of my children after him. Though I would be sad he never had the chance to meet them.

And then... I remember all the reasons why we said we were done! I'm not sure I have those newborn months in me again. While the kids really are getting easier, my patience is shot and it's nice to have this opportunity to rebuild it a bit. Rylie still sleeps in our bed which would cause some issues. Most of all, Craig is no where near in a solid recovery and there's no chance I would have another baby with anything less than a completely sober husband for life.

That may be part of it. Or all of it even. The broken promises and hopes that this time is it, only to find him drunk again after doing so well. This baby urge might be a replacement for my intense desire for my husband to beat this disease and losing hope each time he drinks again. The urge to have a baby is in some ways more tangible for me. I've felt it before, I know that feeling. It gives me a similar sense of happiness and fulfillment, joy, longing even, the same emotions I feel when I think of my husband maintaining his sobriety for life. Or at least a few months. The same emotions I have when I think of what our life could be like, can be like. WILL be like.

It's human nature to want what you "can't" have. This urge may be as simple as that. It also may be my yoga practice that's opening up all these channels for me. Maybe this is simply in the cards. I always said 2 or 3... until we had our first and saw what it can be like. Then we realized not everyone was lying after #2 popped out. Some kids are easy, some not so much. We have one of each, maybe we shouldn't press our luck.

Or maybe I should stop giving all our baby stuff away!

Who knows what's to come. It's the beginning of a new year. So, I guess time will tell if 2013 will be the year to fulfill these urges or desires. And which ones! The duck needs to come before the egg though. In this case anyway. So, I wait to see if Craig can really stay sober this time and I wait to see if this baby urge will simply subside. I'm 35 now so waiting much longer isn't something I'm interested in, but that urge is there and it's only growing stronger.

Remember, I did tell people if we ever lost our minds again and thought something like this might be a good idea for someone to slap us silly. Who wants that honor?



Ooooh, so I don't need 3 hands,
just more coffee?

Happy New Year everyone!

May this year bring you many blessings, much joy and just enough hardship to remind you to be thankful for each day!

Namaste.

Detachment

It's been WAY too long my friends. I had planned to write about my labyrinth walk on my birthday but then my birthday went to shit after that, thanks to a little thing called vodka. Now, it's 8 days later and I've now spent the weekend studying the Yoga Sutras and meditation, sans kids and husband I might add! Yes, this is the first time on my own since my kids were born. And yes, it's awesome... though it's quiet and I do miss them, it's awesome.

Anyway, my head is spinning with insights and information, as usual, and I'm not sure where this one will go because there are so many things I would love to share after such an intense and wonderful yoga filled weekend. One thing I keep coming back to is how I always felt like I've been searching for something my whole life. I really remember feeling this more around the age of sixteen, which I think I mentioned before, but I've been in my head asking questions about everything for as long as I can remember. Why are we here, why am I here, what's my purpose, how can I help make this world a better place, the place it was meant to be, and on and on, and on......

So, this thing I keep coming back to is that every time I find myself on a path towards more self awareness and inner peace I am always in awe at how each path is intertwined with the same exact message. From the self help books I read as a teenager, my counseling classes and learning about human nature/behavior, to delving into my religion and learning about Judaism and now focusing more on yoga, it really is ALL THE SAME in so many ways. The message is the same, the goal is the same.

We are here to reach our full potential and in doing so, we can make this world as it was meant to be. Everything is for a reason and we are all connected. We truly are.

That's a loaded statement, I know. It's no wonder I gravitate towards such paths in life. I "get it", I just have a hard time getting there and holding on so I keep searching for the "thing" that will help me hold on to this fulfillment I seek. There are many paths I could take discussing all this in a more philosophy sort of way, or a yogic way I should say, but to be honest, I don't want to freak anyone out. It can all get a bit "out there", for lack of a better word. So let's stick with a realization our teacher helped me come to today about myself.

One main reason I decided to do my yoga teacher training was to find more inner peace. My hope was to find this peace which I believed would enable me to better deal with living with my alcoholic husband, or to find the strength to leave by accepting he won't change, if it came to that. I felt this peace would help me to not to be so angry all the time, to not flip out and say mean and awful things and think even worse mean and awful things when my husband drinks. As I've said, I feel this anger is changing me, even starting to define me. I feel guilty for getting so angry because it's just not who I am and I don't like this angry person. Also, as a side effect from my goal of inner peace was to be a better mother, to provide my kids with a more emotionally stable environment.

While discussing the Yoga Sutras related to detachment this anger came up, and my inability to not get angry, and more so my lack of desire to not want to get angry. I want to be angry at him when he drinks because I think it's something reasonable to be angry about; something I should feel angry about and even say mean things to him because of. I feel it's a normal reaction to the situation, just like crying when a loved one dies. The thing is, I thought my anger was the problem. I thought my anger was causing my physical pains and the knotted muscles which my massage therapist simply can't fully work out no matter how often I find myself on her table.

What I realized today is that it's not my anger at all. My anger is OK. It is reasonable and it doesn't make me a bad person or even someone I'm not. It's my GUILT over feeling I shouldn't get so angry or say and think such mean things that's causing me all this pain. I mean, really, I am always in physical pain or simply feel nauseous or have a headache. But it's not the anger I need to detach from, it's the guilt. I need to allow myself this natural human reaction of being angry when a loved one lies to you, manipulates you, doesn't think about the safety of your children and refuses to work on reaching their own full potential in this life. It's OKAY to be angry about this. It doesn't make me a bad person and it doesn't have to change me or who I am.

So, this detachment thing just became so much more clear and easier for me. I need to detach from the guilt and let myself be human. I need to let the anger just be but not let it bother me or consume me. Be angry, but don't let it burn me. It sort of reminds me of the symbolism of burning bush Moses saw. The flames were there but they didn't consume or burn the bush to ashes. The bush remained in tact; whole. I can be that bush. At times I may be a flame of fire but when the time for that fire has passed I can be whole again.

This is an incredibly freeing realization. It's one my Rabbi tried to help me see over a year ago around Yom Kippur when I worried about not wanting to apologize to my husband for the mean things I had said. I knew I had hurt him but I felt an apology was futile because I would not mean it. He essentially told me this same thing. Maybe I just wasn't ready to hear it. Whatever the case, I am grateful I was ready to hear it and accept it now.

As always, this doesn't solve the very basic issue of my husband being an alcoholic and all the issues that go along with that when it comes to our life BUT, it does enable me to detach from these things and to continue on my path of peace and happiness. It enables me to continue to seek my full potential and to be a better mother. When it comes down to it, isn't that what we all desire?

Namaste my friends....until next time.

Yoga Sutras
Part 1
15. Non-attachment is the full knowledge of one's true nature, abiding as the seer, without clinging to objects of experience or objects described by others.

16. The higher form of non-attachment occurs when, due to identification with the eternal Self, one does not cling to the primary cosmic forces of creation.

Kriya Yoga Continuing the Lineage of Enlightenment by Ryan Kurczak

I am... 2.0

So, I tried this yesterday and realized after I read about 20 others that I was REALLY down on myself. Since the "rules" of this self love exercise are no editing and proofreading I felt I owed it to myself to sit for 5 minutes today and write a 2.0 version. It's the least I could do for ME, right? The, "I suck" one is still available, deleting would be editing of course, but you can ignore it. I'm thinking I might do this once each week. Just for the much needed morale boost I so often need!

I got this idea yesterday from You Know it Happens at Your House Too but as I clicked through links to other blogs I saw an origination point at Jana's Thinking Place and many "I am" posts at the end of hers. Click the picture to read....

I hope, whether you have a blog or not, you will try it out and post your response in my comments! It's actually quite therapeutic, which is what this little blog is all about :)

The rules are pretty straight forward....
1. Set your timer for 5 minutes. I'm good setting timers in this house for the many time outs experienced daily!
2. As I said, no proofreading, editing, etc. I'll be honest though, I'm going to cheat just a bit because I suck at spelling and can't deal with mucho spelling errors in one of my posts. I'll get all sorts of anxiety and end up proofing it and editing it altogether and being a big rule breaker so just a quick spell, I won't edit. Promise.
3. Post it somewhere, somewhere just as a reminder for you is great, but I of course would prefer you post it right here and share it with us!
Oh, you can write an into, obviously not part of the time limit :)

K. Got it? My timer is ready. Nope, wait, daughter just snagged my phone.

Ok, now we are set.....

I am a mom. It's the hardest thing I've ever done but boy do my kids bring me such joy.

I am a wife.

I am a daughter. My mom is my best friend and the one person in my life I can always count on.

I am a friend. If you're my friend, my true friend, I would do anything for you. I may not talk to my true friends often but they are always in my heart.

I am loyal to the people and things I love.

I am passionate and will fight with all I have and yell from the mountaintops if I feel an injustice has occurred

I am compassionate and feel empathy for everything, even those nasty little spiders I squash or the sad faces of the opposing team losing.

I am a proud Penn Stater.

I am a person who believes if you set your mind to something you can do anything. Or nearly anything. I overcame an eating disorder as a teenager and have never looked back.

I am someone who gets angry easily but I am working on it everyday.

I am a yogi.

I am a Jew.

I am a dreamer and a thinker but given the chance I will do whatever it takes to put those dreams and thoughts into action

I am always striving to be a better me. It's what I think life is all about.

7 seconds left, yikes.... I am growing. An old motto from recovery days... I am free to be ME!

Your turn! And yes. I am definitely going to make this a weekly thing. No, I won't fill my blog up with 3.0 and 4.0 I Am posts but this is too wonderful. We must love ourselves if we are to love others or be loved.

I Am......

I just wrote to you all yesterday. One from the heart that I put all my emotion into so I had planned to take a little break. BUT I came across this little self love challenge and well, I'm always up for a challenge, especially when it can help me on this little quest of constant self improvement.

I got this idea from You Know it Happens at Your House Too but if you start clicking through the links you'll find this has been a wonderful pass it forward sort of thing so I hope, whether you have a blog or not, you will try it out and post your response in my comments!

The rules it seems are to set your timer. I'm good at that as we have a lot of time outs in this house. There is also to be no proofreading, editing, etc. I'll be honest, I'm going to cheat just a bit there but only on the spelling, I won't edit. Promise.

Ready, set, go.....

I am an AWFUL speller. Thus my cheating. Which I often did to pass spelling tests as a child. Probably why I suck at spelling.

I am a mother. I often feel I'm not a great mother. Certainly not the mom I thought I'd be. BUT I try to be better each day and some days I do a pretty darn good job.

I am a wife. If you read my blog then you know I'm not always the best wife and my marriage has its issues. Moving on...

I am a daughter. My mom is my best friend. The one person I can ALWAYS count on.

I am loyal. I wasn't always.

I am a good friend but lately have slacked in friend duties and can't remember the last time I spoke to many of the friends I hold in my heart. I need to be better at that.

I am a yogi. At least I try. I'm great at the physical practice. A work in progress on the rest.

I am a person who loves people and always strives to see the best in everyone. Sometimes this can be a fault but I love it about myself.

I am passionate. There are things I believe in strongly and I fight for them with all I got.

I am a Penn Stater. Always and forever.

de-de-de-de-de-de-dede, de-de-de-de-de-de-dede. That would be my phone alarm :) So I am done.

Post your I AM..... below. Would love to know you are even if I already do!


PS- I just did my cheating thing and NO spelling errors!! AWESOME. yay me!

PPS- not many of you saw/read this. That's good. I didn't live up to this challenge very well. Some self love! I was such a Debbie downer, geesh. It's been a week. Wait, it's only Wednesday. Yeah, exactly. Anyway, check back for my 2.0 version tomorrow! I think this is a perfect thing to do everyday for oneself...no worries, I won't post one everyday! Night all.

Throwing in the Towel

This was not the blog I intended to write today. It's not the one that's been on my mind for the past few days as I soak in these Days of Awe. Which is the time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.  It's a time of reflection, repentance and taking a good long hard look at myself and what I need to do to be a better person, to be better for my family and our world. This is not that blog because today is one of those days when I just need to throw in the towel and release a bit.

Caleb has been up the past two nights. Last night he refused to go to sleep until 11:30pm after going to bed, late, at 8:30. Now, me being up all night isn't exactly news given my insomnia and Rylie's antics, who happened to sleep these past two nights, of course. BUT Caleb being up is not usual and it is more frustrating because it's not the norm. I didn't think much of it though. Just like when he had a fever on Monday for a brief time, I didn't think much of that. It came and went and he was acting fine.

bruise on his little cheek 

He also fell on Sunday and we still don't know what he hit his face on but he got a small cut on his cheek and a bruise. He looks a mess between that and what appeared to be the fall/winter redness kids get around the mouth from licking, often their runny little nose. Yesterday at Rylie's dentist appointment the dentist mentioned it might be yeast which they can get from licking outside their mouth too. She suggested trying neosporin first and some anti fungal if that didn't work. Well, it was significantly worse today so we were going to go the yeast treatment route later today....


More on where that's going in a bit.

The rest of my morning went something like this.... alarm went off, I hit snooze. Before the snooze went off I reset the alarm for another 10 minutes and figured if worse came to worse the kids could eat cereal from snack cups on the way to school. Instead, everything went pretty smooth considering the late wake ups on a school day. As I was giving myself a bit of a good job mommy pat on the back that we managed to get dressed and eat and were about ready to head to school in plenty of time, I heard Rylie from the bathroom as she finished up brushing her teeth. She said, "I need to go potty". I went in and found what she should have said is, "I just pissed my pants" while standing on the little potty, fully clothed, socks and shoes and all.

Hand one thrown up in the air.

After a  minor mommy meltdown, I hate being late, and much anxiety over leaving pee unattended to until I returned home, I did a quick wash down of her little butt and legs in the tub, grabbed a new outfit and we were racing out the door....again. We made it right on time. Bit of a pat on the back again.

Dropping Caleb off was another one of those pry the screaming child from his death grip and run out the door feeling like a crappy mom for leaving her child so upset. What does a mommy do in such a situation? Why you drive to the nearest coffee shop for some comfort of course! Mind you, I had a coffee I made at home in the car with me, but that just doesn't say comfort food, or drink in this case, like coffee from the coffee shop does.

I pulled in and sent the husband a quick text about my ever so eventful morning and got out of my car to a nice man waiting by his car to inform me that the coffee house was NOT OPEN!

I held up my WTF sign. If you're not sure of my WTF reference, read this at some point. She's awesome. Anyway, hand two was about half thrown up as I pondered what sort of karma was after me today.

I ran home to quickly clean up the pee, and peed on clothes, shoes and potty, left all over the bathroom and to grab the dog for his yearly check up. The vet without kids, woowho! That may be better than a vacation. Eh, not really, but damn close. Not to mention, the vet isn't so bad on the eyes. In short, Apollo didn't try to kill any of the other dogs as he's sporadically has tried to do in the past, which landed us in the bad doggy waiting room for all future visits at our vet in St. Louis. He didn't growl or act like he wanted to eat any of the humans heads off either. Score! He also is very healthy for a pure bred, 8 year old boxer with various ailments. The vet was very pleased that he is a prozac "success story" and we got another year worth of the magic pill. Score again! Though I felt a bit guilty as I realized this appointment was the most individualized attention my first baby has received from me in three years! I suck. But not as bad as the people who took him from our front steps when he got out and waited like a good boy right at the gate. When they brought him back they scolded us for not having a collar on him and told us his microchip didn't scan after I explained our fenced in yard and microchip was the reason for no collar. Yes, well, his chip scanned just fine. People are asses. Anyway....

I went to a different coffee shop and finally got my comfort drink before rushing back home to drop Apollo off and go pick up the rugrats, whew. I'm sort of tired just reliving it all!

Pick up went smoothly today. I just love when Rylie squeals, "Mooommmmyyyy" and runs to give me a hug. Caleb came back to me the way I left him, in tears. Just like all the other 1 year olds from his class. The teachers claim they aren't like that the whole time. Upon getting home we went stright for the bathroom to wash hands. These illnesses are killing me so that's standard.

Umhmmm, well, remember that "yeast" or rash or whatever on Caleb's face I said I would get back to in a bit? We finished washing hands and as I dried his I noticed those same bumps on the palms of his hands. The light bulb went off as I said OH SHIT! Probably aloud, I'm not sure. I grabbed my phone and called the pediatrician immediately, praying I was over reacting. Five minutes later the nurse called back as I explained everything since Monday and she said, "Yup, that's hand, foot, mouth." I think I groaned because she then said,  "Sorry."

I only know what it is from having worked with kids for so long, but I've never seen it, except in pictures. She says there's no treatment and it's not contagious if he doesn't have a fever anymore. BUT, I feel like I need to go wash every toy he may have touched or put in his mouth over the past few days in some bleach water. I don't know the little things like, do I change his toothbrush now or once the blisters are gone? Should I wipe him with his own cloth after meals, or even a paper towel and not worry about being green in this case? If it's not contagious now, does that in fact mean touching his hands or wiping his mouth won't spread it and if that's not the case, well how in the hell will I ever get rid of it or keep the rest of us from getting it?! Yes, freak out mode ensued. I text Craig, again.

I honestly should be researching about this virus instead of writing to release my freak out emotions but there's a lot I should be doing, like not having Rylie watch TV while I write you all, playing with her outside on this beautiful day, studying for yoga, folding laundry, working on the sink full of dishes...... But here I am.

BECAUSE, it didn't end there. Nope, as I put Caleb down for nap, late, I came downstairs to find Rylie playing in the play room with no panties on. I didn't specify naked because all she wears at home is panties soooo.... I asked her why she was naked. She ignored me. There's a surprise. I went in the bathroom and once again she didn't make it to the toilet. This time she tried so there was pee on the shower mat and over to the toilet, all over the toilet and floor and some on the bath rug too. Fan-freakin-tastic! It's a small bathroom but still.

I grabbed up all the wet stuff, again, and went down to do another load of peed on clothes, towels and rugs. And there you have it folks, I officially throw my arms up in defeat. I throw in the towel for today. Some you win and some you lose. Today I stood in the ring with mommy verse the world or karma or whatever this is, and I decided for my sanity it would be best to forfeit to the powers that be. Until next time....

Though, I do still have yoga class tonight.

Watch, there's probably a quiz I am unaware of since I always forget to check the syllabus!

Even though I threw in the towel,
I'm trying to remember this today!

The Beginning of the End

 

Okay okay I may be being a bit melodramatic here but my babies started preschool today! I think after living in 24/7 mommyville for over 27 months I have earned the right to be a tiny bit dramatic right now.

Seriously though, aside from the heart palpitations and feeling like an emotionally stunted mommy because I didn't cry when I left my children with complete strangers, it's a bit freeing. I'm actually at a coffee shop enjoying a vanilla latte while I write to you all on my iPad! Holy what the... by myself at a coffee shop doing what? Relaxing at 9:30 am?? I can't complain! Despite wishing I had a Xanax about now, I can't complain.

I've been waiting for this moment to write because I've been struggling with time management lately. And organization. Those who know me well, yes, I said and organization! I used to be a bit nazi-ish when it came to organization. My label maker was one of my most prized possessions! No one warned me that after the nesting phase any organization abilities would float away to some far away land known as prekid life.  Adding yoga practice, meditation, a yoga journal and readings into my daily mix has really stretched me thin. Rylie started back to gymnastics plus my two night yoga teacher training classes.... It's busy at the Hoosier house! Oh... and I have an "assignment" to do a selfless act (seva) each day.

As far as the seva goes, it is very much in line with tikkun olam (or repairing the world) in Judaism, so I love it. Normally I would like to volunteer, donate or something of the like but I can't volunteer much with a 1 & 3 year old in tow and we would be broke if I donated everyday so I've been struggling a bit with the selfless acts thing. I find this incredibly ironic since I don't feel like I do much for myself which leaves me a bit stuck.. So, I asked if feeding my kids each day could count as my seva. It's without a doubt a selfless act. My yoga instructor laughed and said, "if you think so, I mean, they need to eat THREE times a day" I added... PLUS SNACK! She gets it. But, I haven't used it, yet.

Okay, I digressed a bit. This is supposed to be about the beginning of the end... Isn't that what school is? Everyone says once the kids start school time flashes before you like a lightening bolt and all of a sudden you're looking at your middle schoolers debating if you should send them off to boarding school before they end up buried in the back yard, then you're visiting colleges and poof, your home is kid free again and you think, wasn't I just freaking out in that coffee shop writing about my babies starting preschool?

This is a big deal! I'm trying to stay focused and not get too far ahead of myself, like worrying about college tuition, heck, I'm worried enough about preschool and next year's Montessori school tuition! More than anything though, I think I'm liking this tiny bit of freedom. I don't wish with these years away and I know time will fly even faster now and in 10 and 20 years I will probably be telling new moms those words that often make me want to punch the person speaking... enjoy it now, it goes so fast... But as much as my days swirl into one big long day and I often feel like I'm in my own version of Groundhog Day, I also don't want this time to become just an old memory too quickly.

I want my babies to tell me they love me and give me hugs and kisses everyday. I want them to think the world is a good place and no one would ever hurt them. I don't want their hearts to break or for them to lose their innocence yet I know that even in preschool they will probably experience having their feelings hurt or that sense of feeling left out. They will start to get a better idea of what the world is really like, the good, the bad and the ugly, when I really only want them to know the good and beautiful parts. This really is a BIG day.

My biggest fear right now is no one will want to be Rylie's friend. That she'll be the weird kid who is a head smaller than everyone else, with glasses and odd behaviors at times. I also don't want her to be the one the teachers get frustrated with, like last night at gymnastics, because she won't listen, follow directions or sit still long enough to meet their expectations. Like any mom, I just want to protect them until the end of time, protect them from the many evils that plague humanity, the physical and emotional dangers of our world. And like every mom before me, as I sit here drinking my latte and my separation anxiety subsides a bit, I have to accept that is simply not possible. It's not reality, not how this thing we call life works... and thus, today is the beginning of the end. 

Now, I'm at a crossroads of sorts because I can view it as the beginning of the end of their innocence, their life from the comfort of my arms OR I can view it as the beginning of their lives as individuals. The beginning of all the beauty that awaits them.

The beginning of their lives, wrought with endless possibilities, sounds a heck of a lot better. So, I'm choosing to hold on to that today. Besides, they get to run to the comfort of my arms after these few hours on their own of learning and growing, making friends (hopefully!) and discovering what's out there. AND I get a chance to feel refreshed after some me time and to regain some long lost patience. I get a chance to be a better mom for all those hours I still get to keep them safe. It may be the beginning of the end but motherhood never ends so we have a long road to travel and I think I am as excited as they are!

Waiting...

I haven't written in awhile. Part of it is because I'm still so preoccupied by everything Penn State and it's not something I feel like blogging about, I get my "therapy" for that elsewhere and it's enough.

Part is because I planned to write a lot on vacation and ended up without any wifi! It was like vacationing in 1989 but it was GREAT. I know it's hard to believe but I actually relaxed on vacation with a 1 and 3 year old! Go figure.

Part is because I just don't know what to say. Other than my alma mater experiencing it's darkest days my life took a turn back to the on and off darkness of living with an alcoholic all while being rocked by some long awaited answers to my daughter's medical issues.

My life has been like a bit of a roller coaster and I guess I was waiting for the ride to slow down so I could focus a bit and pinpoint which part of my chatter was the loudest and in need of some self therapy on here. I kept waiting and waiting for... I'm not sure, the tide to turn, some positive news to share maybe. Today I realized, that's just life, the ups and downs and all around, so I better get back to writing before time gets away from me and I'm back at square one again.

So, here I am.

I thought today about what was most pressing in my chatter. I thought about why I'm so "obsessed" with my fight for my school and the truth and justice. Other than the fact that's simply who I am when I know in my core that it's the right thing to do, I wondered if there was more to it. I wondered, like I often do when I get so immensely wrapped up in something, if I was trying to block anything out. When I nearly started crying after my daughter started her odd hand thing again (I'll get to that) I realized that maybe I'm trying to suppress all the fear, worry and anxiety I'm feeling regarding her. Because there is A LOT of those emotions right now and I know if I allow them to take over they will incapacitate me. So, I preoccupy my thoughts instead.

For those that don't know, we have been seeing specialist after specialist trying to get to the route of a couple issues with our little girl. It started with her reflux "returning" after about 8 months weaned from medication. She was diagnosed with at 6 weeks old and successfully weaned shortly after Caleb was born. It never fully went away but it wasn't too bad and didn't seem to bother her. By early this year it was so bad I knew it needed addressed again though, and so it began... again.

We went back to the pediatric GI, a new one since we had moved. We tried an allergist, which was pointless. No one bothered to read old records, I had to fight for tests not to be repeated, reiterate everything like they had no idea why we were there and go through everything we had already tried. We went through a whole new round of tests including an upper GI which was so traumatic I'll forever have the image of my baby strapped down yelling, "Mommy, help me, help me, mommy, I'm scared, mommy, all done, help me, I'm scared" over and over for 30 minutes ingrained in my memory. I felt completely helpless to comfort my little girl for the first time. Sure, I could have stopped the test but the alternative was anesthesia and a scope and putting her under scared the hell out of me, anything can happen.

The test concluded she has constipation and reflux. No kidding? Thanks. Though I should be relieved it wasn't anything crazy like organs out of place, I couldn't help but feel annoyed.

Then we got results a couple weeks later that said her pancreas wasn't producing enough digestive enzyme to break down and absorb fat. I still don't know exactly what that means but I had already started her on a homeopathic digestive enzyme which the doctor said should suffice so... we'll wait and see.

Then it was on to the pediatric endocrinologist. A what? What the hell do they do? I honestly am still not exactly sure but his job was to figure out why she isn't growing/make sure it's not simply genetics, which I have thought it was all along. I mean we aren't exactly big people so what else would it be?! Another round of tests... on her birthday because I was not taking her back in that radiology room where I knew she would flip out upon seeing that x-ray machine. Daddy took off for his little girl's big 3rd birthday, so, the hospital is where the day began.

One test was a blood test for some genetic thing the doctor said was less common but more serious and he just wanted to rule it out. I didn't think twice about it but rather was freaking out and consumed with worry that it would come back she had growth hormone deficiency. I have no intention of giving her growth hormones and I didn't want to feel like a bad parent for refusing hormone treatments. I buy organic milk to avoid giving her unnecessary hormones and someone was going to tell me to willingly put them in her body?! I called her pediatrician...again....freaking over the new information. She calmed me down... again.... I love her doctor.

When the endocrinologist doctor himself called to go over the results, and then called back first thing the next day after I missed his call, I thought, uh oh.

He explained to me that she has that genetic thing I didn't think twice about BUT it does not appear that she is growth hormone deficient. Of course not, of course it's the worse of them. She has what's called a balanced chromosome translocation. Yes, it's a mouthful though not all that difficult to understand. A part of two chromosomes essentially switched places. Because they simply switched it means no genetic material was lost. This is good. But they can't say if whatever those genes are responsible for will react properly being in the wrong place. So, we wait. For nearly a decade we simply have to WAIT.

What are we waiting for? Why so long? We are waiting to find out if my little girl can have kids. Yes, kids of her own. Or, if she will have early ovary failure. We are waiting to see how this chromosome thing may or may not effect her reaching puberty, which can have all sorts of issues associated with that, including fertility issues.

My heart sank. I have told myself ANYTHING can happen when it comes to medical technology by the time she wants kids...I've told myself this may be a moot point, maybe she won't even want kids... and then my heart breaks all over at the idea of her desperately wanting biological children and finding out before she can even drive a car that she will never be able to. BUT, it's not a guarantee, just a higher probability than the average Joe, or Jane in this instance. How high? They aren't sure. But he has two other girls he sees with the same region of their X chromosome impacted in some way (not the exact same way as Rylie's) and one hasn't reached puberty and the 14 year old's ovaries are starting to fail.

A LOT to take in for a momma, huh? Well, it doesn't end there. Nope, the hits kept coming.

Her bone age (the hand x-ray) came back at 2 years old. She turned 3 last month. Why is my baby so tiny if she's not growth hormone deficient? We don't know exactly. Maybe it's because of the chromosome thing, maybe not. What we do know is this... if she continues on the growth curve she's on she will only hit 4'6"-4'8". All the women on both sides may be small, but this isn't quite normal. Something is amiss. We also know she is an extremely picky eater which may be because of her reflux, constipation and digestion issues, or maybe it's just because she's three. After counting her calories for a few days we also know that she is not getting nearly enough to grow properly so her reason for not growing could be as simple as this, she needs more food. I pray it's this.

Now to figure out how to get her to eat more without an appetite stimulant. To me, "stimulant" just sounds like a drug I don't want to put in her little body if I can avoid it in any way.

NOW, why was I nearly crying yesterday you might recall from earlier? The odd hand thing? Yes, well, Rylie started doing this odd hand thing some time ago. I honestly can't recall when but in my attempt to try to figure it out I think it was after her binky was a thing of the past. It's not all the time either, it comes and goes. As someone who used to work with children on the autism spectrum I know what she is doing is stimming. But it looks more like she's playing with an imaginary piece of string. She may do it for hours in the middle of the night. She imaginary plays while doing it. At 3am some nights I'll hear.... "look, mommy, a picture!" What the heck do you say to that?!

I could deal with her doing this all night if it was her way of decompressing, rehashing her day in her own strange way, whatever. But she started doing it more over the past week and now it's not just when she wakes at night. She did it while sitting on the potty before bed the other day and flipped out that she wasn't done on the potty but then continued to do her hand stim... with her eyes tightly closed. She did it again yesterday when we got home from the library. I never saw her do it in the middle of the day. I took a quick video, asked her what she was doing even though she rarely answers and when she does it usually includes her imaginary play as a reason... "I'm playing with a bug" or something like that. Then she was done with it and I haven't seen it again, 24 hours later. But I was freaking out inside and went to the kitchen to text my husband about what we should do.

He said, let's wait and see. Wait a week. Maybe she's just still upset about vacation being over. May sound funny but she was really upset that we left the beach (and amusement park) and came home. Me too! But it was also when it increased. It's also when she started grinding her teeth, again... and a lot. Another stim.

Maybe he's right, maybe she is just upset. Or, maybe she senses my anxiety over all these unanswered questions and this is how she's dealing with it. Maybe it's something else. My behavior therapist side started doing some research. There's a lot of scary stuff about stimming though it is very reasonable to conclude it's perfectly normal, considering she has no other developmental things (other than her growth and digestive stuff I mean) Well, and her sleep issues which no one can seem to explain, other than maybe it's her reflux, which is certainly a reasonable conclusion. She met all her milestones on time, she's social and plays well, she has school ready skills (A,B, C's, 1,2,3's...), there's no gross or fine motor issues, etc. and though I felt she was slower to talk she was always within normal limits and it has really picked up lately. I keep thinking, maybe I'm missing something because it's impossible to totally remove the mom hat in my "evaluation". What if I'm missing something?

If the stimming stuff didn't scare me enough, doing searches relating to that AND the chromosome thing brought about a whole new set of fears that I damn near stopped breathing. Then the anxiety, worry wart mommy in me took over and thought, what if there's more, like something really, really bad more?

This time, the word wait is helpful, therapeutic even.

There are so many levels to her various issues I need to remind myself to take them one at a time. We haven't even met with the genetics doctor yet, heck, they haven't even called me to set up the appointment! Which annoys me. But I'm not exactly the most patient person when it comes to getting answers about my kids health. Who am I kidding, I'm not exactly patient about anything!

Lately though, I mostly fear what if the doctors are missing something? What if they aren't steering us in the right direction? What if, what if, what if.... It's hard to trust any of them when I question the competence of nearly everyone lately. I could get second opinions but the idea of putting her through any more tests when this all seems pretty clear makes me think I'm just getting carried away. I'm just being an overly worried mom and I just need to wait and see what comes of the things we are trying.

Who knows, maybe she'll get over her picky eating and by the end of the year we'll see her inching her way onto the growth chart again. I'm hoping the peer pressure at preschool will get her to try new foods at snack time and open a door for us at home. Maybe the odd hand stims and teeth grinding are simply anxiety or her trying to keep herself awake to avoid bedtime and it'll pass as she matures. Research I've read states this is certainly possible, especially if the child is otherwise typical. Maybe the digestive enzyme I have her on is working and that follow up test will come back normal and we'll have one problem solved just like that. Maybe. Just wait. Be patient. Ha.

I have to have faith that I have been on top of all of this since she was 6 weeks old. I have followed up and taken her to every specialist recommended to cover all our bases and ensure it's nothing more. I've tried everything suggested to us by damn near everyone who has ever suggested something. I can't imagine there is any more I can reasonably do except wait for now and see what happens with all we are trying. But waiting is oh so hard when you're a mommy and you can't fix what is wrong with your child with the snap of your fingers or even a band-aid.

I know there are people out there dealing with so much more with their children and my heart aches for these parents. This is quite enough for me. I pray, desperately, that this is all it is and we are doing right by her. As we wait....

The Yogi in Me

I've always been a bit of a thinker, a dreamer, a searcher. My head always seemed to get away from me, still does. A simple thought turns to a long drawn out miniseries playing out in my mind.  Hence self talk insanity! I spent a great deal of my life searching for ways to get out of my head, mainly because endless chatter is exhausting. So I searched and I searched, often in all the wrong places. Because lets face it, blacking out isn't the healthiest way to escape your head for a bit and neither is numbing yourself. I realized I needed a healthier way to escape from myself, to find peace within... so I wouldn't have the desire to escape from myself. I found yoga.

That was about 11 years ago.... and I fell in love. I remember doing those Rodney Yee videos a coworker lent me and thinking, hey, I'm pretty good at this. We all know, I'm not exactly a fan of continuing with something I'm not good at. Yoga seemed to come natural to me. More so than dance which I spent my childhood practicing, not very well I might add. And even more than karate which I was decent at but struggling too much with chronic fatigue at the time to handle the physical demands. Yoga was a perfect fit for this mind wanderer!

To this day the best yoga class I ever went to was a true Ashtanga class in Miami, when I was living in South Beach. While it was also one of the hardest workouts I've ever done physically, I left that class with so much energy pulsating through me I thought I could run a marathon. I'm not a runner, I don't even enjoy it. That energy was like a drug, I've craved it ever since. I realized over the years that I often went to a class with the sole intent of stealing other's energy desperately looking for that feeling again. Yes, I'm a positive energy seeking addict. That's what it feels like anyway. I figure it's far better than the number of other ways I could have become addicted in my quest for peace.

The problem is I often go through periods of time in my life when months go by before I find an opportunity to roll out my mat and become mindful of that automatic life sustaining thing we call breathing. I feel it, those times I can't practice (or make excuses why I can't). It's like being too tired or too hungry, but for months! I'm more irritable, less able to manage my anger, less patient, more anxious and depressed. That antsy feeling inside is always there... searching... longing. That search, the craving to quiet my head, to find peace, is all consuming. That moment I sit on my mat is like someone shoots a bit of life back into me. This moment happened after a longer than normal laspe in practice a few months ago. I haven't missed a week since.

Since I know I'm there to steal everyone else's energy, considering I very rarely have any to offer, I sometimes worry that my stress and negative thoughts will pass on to other yogi's in the room as I soak in all they have to offer. I used to feel like I was cheating everyone somehow. Sometimes this thought still crosses my mind but over the years I've learned that as I reach a place where my mind clears, even if just a bit, it's like that yoga energy just swarms around the room sucking up everyone's negativity. I realized I'm not the only one searching for peace. I'm not the only one who had a stressful day or who has negative thoughts and energy to expel. The yoga is the energy source I crave. I can practice alone and feel it. I just prefer to be around people. I've never been a big fan of alone.

Being the thinker, dreamer, searcher I am I tend to forget to actually act on all these thoughts and dreams swirling around my head. It took some time to act this time too but in about 10 weeks I am finally taking a stroll down a new path in life, one I've been wanting to take for about 5 or 6 years. I start my yoga teacher training program! Not only will I get to learn about this beautiful way of life that helped save me from my own self destruction but I get to practice five times more than I am now. Just imagine how much more at peace I'll be with myself, with life?!

While we will be running around like crazy people (that part isn't exactly new I guess) so I can make my 6 hours of class each week and then a full weekend (16 hours!) once a month for four months, it's all good because I can almost feel the energy already. And not just from the yoga energy, relaxation and peace I crave but the energy that comes from pursuing a dream. The energy that comes from doing something more, more than the same thing day in and day out, which for me has been mind numbing. I realize many mommy's will think I'm a crappy mom for saying that but I mean, singing ABC's, making peanut butter sandwiches, and trips to the park are great and all but I definitely feel like my IQ may have dropped off a bit these past two years at home, mostly from shear lack of adult conversations and learning beyond a preschool level.

But that's all about to change. Not only will I get to do what I love BUT this means I'll get to bring this love, the peace of mind, body and soul through meditation, through yoga, to others! I may not ever go back to being a counselor, but I'll still get to help people and maybe in an even more meaningful way. Not many can say they love what they do but I'll get to continue to fulfill my dream of staying home with my kids AND working (hopefully) doing something I would be doing as a past time anyway. Can't get much better than that!

Namaste! (and goodnight)

Birthdays and The Butterfly Effect

My first son, my furry son, turned EIGHT today. Eight, wow, this boggles my mind. I remember driving from Baltimore to Lancaster, PA to look at him with a friend of mine. We were doing AmeriCorps together at the time and in less than two months our year of service would be complete and I was moving to St. Louis to live with my (now ex) fiance. Despite this poor memory of mine I often harp on, I remember meeting Apollo for the first time like it was yesterday. Maybe because it was the first time I really got to experience the Amish. Who would have guessed I eventually live in Lancaster for 3 years someday!

Youngest pic I could find of him.
Probably about a month after I got him.

I remember the breeder calling to tell me one of his kids dropped him, he broke his leg and I could get a refund on my deposit or a discount. I considered him mine already so of course I drove there the next day to pick him up, despite not planning to pick him up for a few more. The nuns at the convent I was living in during my year of service were very kind and allowed me to keep him there since it was just a few days. Yes, I said nuns. And yes, I said "convent I was living in". Yes, everyone laughs, it's okay, I do every time I say it too!

Anyway... little did I know Apollo would turn out to be one of the world's most challenging animals to own, my first dog and quite possibly my last, if Craig has it his way. He has had stomach issues from the start, I of course had his broken leg to deal with in the beginning, he's had surgery for a damaged spleen and twisted stomach, he pukes frequently, can't eat anything but his food, not even treats, he has separation anxiety and is now on Prozac for that, he has ruined doors, furniture, kids toys, carpets, snatched our dinners off the counter, he's also very unpredictable and has run after neighbors and acts like he's going to eat the mailman's head off if he's out when the mail arrives here at our new home... he's a handful to say the least!

Kitchen door and trim at our new house.
He went on Prozac shortly after!

Until my (less furry) children arrived I probably would have ended that last sentence with, but he's mine and I love him. Now his challenges along with my young children make him more of a nuisance and this makes me feel awful. He really is a sweet dog. If he could have someone's undivided attention 24/7 he would be the best dog around; the mailman may not agree! He was great with my Pap. It's hard not to look at Apollo and think if only.... I truly believe if my Pap could have taken Apollo he'd still be with us today. He loved this dog so much, more than me I sometimes think! It didn't work out that way for many reasons, but part of why I try to hang on and not find him a good home is because of my Pap. He would want him here with us, with his family. So, we trudge on.

Happy Birthday Old Man :)

But mostly Apollo reminds me of just how different my life could have been now, eight years later. You see, I bought Apollo to help ease the pain from my first miscarriage. He became the baby God decided wasn't meant to me. He provided me with the mothering; nurturing need I lost almost as soon as I accepted I was going to be a mom. I had a really difficult time dealing with my first loss. I've analyzed this quite a bit and will write about it another time but the point is, I remember it all, not like my second loss. I remember seeing that positive test, and taking three more! To say I was freaking out might be a bit of an understatement. I remember my due date was July 31. I remember my first OB appointment. I remember the names I had picked out by 12 weeks. I realized something was wrong on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, on my way back to Baltimore from a weekend of apartment hunting in St. Louis. I found out the next day I had actually miscarried somewhere around 9 weeks and had surgery the following day or maybe it was two days. My ex flew in, my mom, dad and step mom drove in. I was surrounded by so much love and support but the pain was unbearable. I just couldn't deal with it. I let that pain sit for too long and as I mentioned in a previous post, at one point was on a hefty cocktail of an anti anxiety, antidepressant and a sleeping pill. This was nearly two years later.

It's difficult not to think of all of this when Apollo's birthday comes around. He was my "replacement baby" and now he is a reminder of these terribly trying days that turned to years. A reminder of a life I can't even picture. I don't really even try anymore because I realize that there is a slim chance that Craig and I would have found each other again had that fetus grew into my first child. As such, Rylie and Caleb wouldn't exist. That's one of those gasping thoughts that turns all other thoughts to a hazy swirl of grey until they just wash away.

The therapeutic tree planted to help with the loss... 8 years later

That thought alone ends my wandering mind of the baby that never came to be, of what he or she would be like or become, because life without my two little munchkins is even more unimaginable than the life that was not meant for me. The butterfly effect of this one single moment in my life is truly remarkable. Maybe that's why I remember it all so clearly, because it led me to where I am now. It ultimately led to my beautiful children. That pain that I was so convinced would never subside led to many forks in the road over the past eight years. I made decision after decision as to which path to stroll down and then held on tight, praying it was the best choice.

So, the way I see it, Apollo's birthday is a reminder each year of how many years it's been since that pain washed over me, since my first chance at motherhood vanished. It's a reminder of how that pain, and a whole lot of other emotions, decisions and experiences in between, in the end led to joy, love, frustration... to the motherhood I was meant to experience.

Apollo's a good boy, he deserves more from me but at least he has two little monsters that think he's even cooler than mom so I hope he's still a happy dog and I hope he knows he's still loved!
Happy Birthday buddy! And thank you for the reminder each year of all I have.

Rylie loves to cuddle with her Apollo

An old one (obviously) but a fave,
Caleb at 2 months getting some lovin from is pow pow!