This morning I woke up from a terrible dream. I dreamed that I had run away from my family. My husband had also run away, sort of with me, but I guess we had agreed to take these particular journeys separately because he was there, but not with me during my struggles. A bunch of random high school classmates had convinced me to run. We're turning 40 this year and our kids are driving us crazy, so let's get out of here...now!...to Maryland. (I know, random.) So there I was in Maryland, completely lost. Not physically lost. I was in Annapolis, but with nowhere to turn, nowhere to go, and no money. I tried stealing soup from a fancy Italian restaurant and then found myself wandering through a fancy department store slipping through elegant clothes made of silk and sequins wondering if I'd be good enough to work there, wondering if I'd be good enough to work in that fancy restaurant where I tried to steal the soup, but chickened out at the last minute.
Then my mom called. She had my boys. They were scared. They were wondering where I was. When was I coming home? It was time to grow up. I hadn't even said goodbye. I wasn't coming home until I figured my life out, what I wanted to do. I was standing on a filthy Chesapeake Bay and a storm was whipping up. I could hear their voices and noises in the background, and though I so deeply missed them, I hung up the phone and then woke up.
That was probably one of the most unsettling dreams I've ever had. Yes, I've daydreamed about running away plenty of times, but I've never once dreamed of leaving my family. They've always been apart of my escape. We escape together to a new life with no worries and leave behind all that is bad. I was so sad this morning. I missed my kids so terribly even though they were just a hallway away. I felt like I had betrayed their little souls.
I don't set much store on dreams. I have them. I tell them to my husband. We laugh or shiver, depending on the dream, and then move on. Today I've been pondering this one...a lot...too much. It was just a dream. I've gone through all the scenarios about how I might be secretly wishing to abandon them all and run, run away fast. I have promptly dismissed them all. I love my family. I think this dream was just a re-commitment to them.
My oldest son is going through a child study team evaluation for an IEP. He has selective mutism and was recently diagnosed with central auditory processing disorder. (I'm sorry if I've explained this all before. It's been awhile since I wrote consistently, and I can't remember what I have and haven't shared. And I'm too lazy to go back and reread my posts. Well, I shouldn't say "lazy". I'm pressed for time...and in the time I spent to write this little note, I probably could have gone back and skimmed through some old posts.) I expect him to be Twice Exceptional (2e for short). It's when a "gifted" child also has a disability. I'm hesitant to use the term gifted. I believe that we are all gifted in different ways and working with so many students from so many backgrounds, I believe gifted goes beyond an IQ score. That said, I do feel my son has above average intelligence. This makes my husband roll his eyes. He thinks we have just a regular old average kid, and while I'd love to say that was true, especially when we are dealing with very expensive therapy and a gambit of neuropsychological tests, he isn't a regular old average kid and his disabilities prove it.
This in and of itself is enough to make any mother crawl under a rock. We are also dealing with a short-sighted school district whose principal is an arrogant, hostile ignoramus who doesn't allow us to have an intellectual, problem-solving conversation about our children without him becoming defensive and argumentative. A lot of parents go through this with public school districts. Navigating special education is never easy. On top of this, our district is a failing district, and our community doesn't want to accept this. I went to a board of education meeting to express my concerns and the board president threw a hissy fit, saying I didn't know what I was talking about, and literally threw the state report on the floor and said that's what she thought of its results. Parents are afraid to speak up. Parents are afraid to rock the boat. They are content to be a bunch of sheep, except for the ones who do see the problems and those just put a "For Sale" sign on their front yard. I want to move so desperately, even before all these issues with the school arose.
I don't believe our district will qualify my son for an IEP, and even if they do, I'm skeptical as to whether they'd actually be able to provide the services he needs. So, yeah, after several hostile meetings with school administration and no support from the community, I've pretty much at the running away point--but like I said, with my family.
I have decided to no longer fight for my child's rights at the school. No, I'm not giving up. But, it takes so much energy to do so, energy that could be spent towards researching homeschooling and homeschooling groups. Energy spent researching things I can do at home to help with the processing issues. Energy spent on formulating and coordinating our goals for the selective mutism. Energy spent reading Harry Potter every night instead of passing out before the kids when the worry and anxiety had become too much that day. The school's issues are robbing me of time with my children in one way or another, from excessive homework to hour long meetings that go nowhere, and I no longer am going to allow that.
In my first four years of teaching I attended a retreat and we learned about the circle of control. Picture a small circle in the center of a page. A slightly larger circle is around that and then an even larger circle around the two. The inside of the center circle is, obviously, the smallest of the circles and that is what you have complete control over in your life. (We learned about it terms of teaching life, but it applies in all aspects of life.) Beyond that, our ability to control diminishes. The next circle we have a great ability to control certain aspects of life, but complete control is out of reach. The circle after that we can affect change with effort. The circle after that we must accept we have no control. Unhappiness lies when we get the circles confused, when we don't have the ability to see or accept what we can and cannot change. In teaching no matter how much I wanted to save my students from abusive homes, it was not in my power to do so. I could be a light in their world, and maybe make a few phone calls if it was really bad, but beyond that I had to let it go because what I identified as abusive and what our government identifies as abusive are two very different things.
I thought affecting change in our tiny district and community that flaunts how close it is would be somewhat within one of my control circles, somewhere. I was wrong. Maybe I made some ripples. Maybe I got some teachers thinking. Maybe. But for myself and for my children, I'm not going to see the change I want for them no matter how hard I fight. There's no one standing up beside me, and with public education, you need a force of parents. So I'm turning my attention to those two inner circles and putting other things way on out of them, like off the piece of paper.
It's the end of January. I have failed at my goals, sort of. (I blame the puppy.) I'm getting back on track again. While I didn't get the cleaning done that I wanted, nor did I stick to the schedule, I was looking around my house and realizing that I did better than I thought, especially considering the puppy. She kind of forces you to pick up things and keep them up. We're also keeping her on the first floor of the house, so I've been forced to spend a lot of time there as well because, damn, if you take your eyes off her for one second! I managed to finally clean out my boys' projects from last school year and put their new projects in the bins. (I take pictures of all their crafts and make little photo books for them instead of saving every craft that walks through the door.) And the dining room table is pretty well cleaned off. I can easily run a dust cloth today and vacuum and feel that I've accomplished something for the month. (I don't want to talk about my basement!)
I've kept up with my reading. Check!
And the groceries...ugh! It could have been worse. It could have been a lot worse. My dog died. My son was practically threatened by our school's principal. I got a new puppy who chews EVERYthing. I was $400 over budget. I know that's a lot, but when I was working full time, it was close to $1000 over budget. The fruits and veggies? The strive for 5? I'm more like two. I made sauteed spinach the other night and it was gross. Well, to me it was gross. I don't like sauteed spinach. I like spinach in things, like a vodka sauce over Parmesan shrimp topped with cheese (a favorite dish from a local restaurant). I do not like just spinach. I'm trying. I'll need to step up my creativity a bit on that one.
And there you have it, January is a wrap and I have not run away. So, no, I haven't failed. Not one bit.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Monday, January 25, 2016
Being Thankful
Despite the week I've had, I have managed to keep up with my reading of Simple Abundance. January is a lot about taking inventory of your life right now as it is. She really does get it. New Year's resolutions, especially ones that involve dieting, exercising, and traveling more, don't really stand a chance when you're under two feet of snow. So we reflect on our circumstances, we accept our circumstances, and we give thanks for what is going well in our lives. This has been especially difficult for me this time reading. This time I have three children, two of whom are in grade school, one of whom has disabilities. Before, I was a young mother of two tiny little boys who were safe and sound in the cocoon we call home. There are certain things in my life that I don't want to accept because they affect much more than me; they affect the well-being of my children, and it's hard to find joy when you feel your kids are struggling and you don't have the power to change it...right this instant.
But I am persevering. I have recommenced my gratitude journal in which I write down five things to be thankful for each day. The first couple of weeks I skipped days here and there, and I sometimes came in under the five mark. I was okay with it because the things I was giving thanks for were sustaining me: my husband and kids, being blessed with a wonderful dog for nearly thirteen years, starting chorus again and being with friends.
Then we had yet another conference with our oldest son's teachers and principal. It went nowhere fast and we were met with hostility and arrogance from the principal and no answers for our son. There are some major issues with teaching practices and performance at our local elementary school. Throw in a kid with a couple disabilities, and you compound the problem. Throw in the fact that both of the kid's parents are teachers, then you really have a problem. After the conference I sat completely defeated. It all felt so hopeless. My brother-in-law who is not known for his intellect said one of the most profound things to me about being a parent: when your children are suffering and you can't help them, that's when you feel most vulnerable and it's the absolute worst feeling in the world. The changes that need to be made at this school, I can't effect alone. No matter how much complaining or conferences or emails I send, it won't matter so long as I'm the only one.
Okay, I now accept that. I have decided to no longer fight it. I have decided to put into practice what I can do at home to help my son. I have decided to channel my energy into alternative solutions for my kids. And it's so hard!! It's so very hard, and sometimes I don't feel thankful for anything on those days.
It's hard to feel thankful on days when you are abandoned by neighbors and friends and you have a very long driveway with two feet of snow and you are worried about your husband's health.
It's hard to feel thankful when the bills are piling up and your husband's contract has yet to be settled after over two years of negotiations.
It's hard to feel thankful when the worries become too big...
But that's why you do the journal, you force yourself into focusing on the good:
the neighbor who showed up with a shovel despite having a hernia
finally making a contact in the home school community
putting dinner on the table for your family when you just wanted to crawl under the covers
reading a funny book
the cat who's going strong at fifteen years old
the parents who put $500 in your bank account for a new snowblower
And then it keeps going. The bad is there. I still worry too much, but tonight before closing my eyes I will have written down five good things about my day. Five things to remind me that life isn't all that bad. Five things to remind me that there will be five things tomorrow and the next day to be thankful for.
But I am persevering. I have recommenced my gratitude journal in which I write down five things to be thankful for each day. The first couple of weeks I skipped days here and there, and I sometimes came in under the five mark. I was okay with it because the things I was giving thanks for were sustaining me: my husband and kids, being blessed with a wonderful dog for nearly thirteen years, starting chorus again and being with friends.
Then we had yet another conference with our oldest son's teachers and principal. It went nowhere fast and we were met with hostility and arrogance from the principal and no answers for our son. There are some major issues with teaching practices and performance at our local elementary school. Throw in a kid with a couple disabilities, and you compound the problem. Throw in the fact that both of the kid's parents are teachers, then you really have a problem. After the conference I sat completely defeated. It all felt so hopeless. My brother-in-law who is not known for his intellect said one of the most profound things to me about being a parent: when your children are suffering and you can't help them, that's when you feel most vulnerable and it's the absolute worst feeling in the world. The changes that need to be made at this school, I can't effect alone. No matter how much complaining or conferences or emails I send, it won't matter so long as I'm the only one.
Okay, I now accept that. I have decided to no longer fight it. I have decided to put into practice what I can do at home to help my son. I have decided to channel my energy into alternative solutions for my kids. And it's so hard!! It's so very hard, and sometimes I don't feel thankful for anything on those days.
It's hard to feel thankful on days when you are abandoned by neighbors and friends and you have a very long driveway with two feet of snow and you are worried about your husband's health.
It's hard to feel thankful when the bills are piling up and your husband's contract has yet to be settled after over two years of negotiations.
It's hard to feel thankful when the worries become too big...
But that's why you do the journal, you force yourself into focusing on the good:
the neighbor who showed up with a shovel despite having a hernia
finally making a contact in the home school community
putting dinner on the table for your family when you just wanted to crawl under the covers
reading a funny book
the cat who's going strong at fifteen years old
the parents who put $500 in your bank account for a new snowblower
And then it keeps going. The bad is there. I still worry too much, but tonight before closing my eyes I will have written down five good things about my day. Five things to remind me that life isn't all that bad. Five things to remind me that there will be five things tomorrow and the next day to be thankful for.
Friday, January 22, 2016
It's been...a very...long week...
Tonight I lie on my couch while it snows outside, the beginning of a blizzard, with the three boys tucked snugly in bed, my husband at the local bar with friends, and my new puppy asleep beside me. Yes, already, a new puppy. Emotions are running rampant.
I had my heart set on a Great Bernese, a cross between a Great Pyrenees and a Bernese Mountain Dog. They are very expensive and the breeder I found was in Colorado, so tack on a $400 airfare fee. Our names went on the waiting list. It'd be a few months out, the perfect time to wait and grieve.
I'm not a dog shopper, typically. I'm usually a dog adopter. I felt a little guilty about "buying" a dog, so I looked around on some rescue websites. The first dog I saw was this cute little brown lab mix called "Holly the Pup." Let me back up a bit...
My oldest son who was having a really hard time with the loss of our dog spent the night of her death with my husband and me talking about passed loved ones. My husband and I both said our dogs are always with us, even if they now are in heaven. Our loved ones send us signs to let us know they are watching out for us, our own personal guardian angel dogs. I told him how when we got our Indiana, we didn't know anything about her, what kind of dog she was or even what color. We just said we'd take a puppy. As it turns out, she looked just like my dog Hollie from when I was a little girl. (You see where this is going, right?) And that was how I knew Hollie was looking out for me, by sending me Indiana.
So, this Holly the Pup shows up first on like three searches I ran, and I kept ignoring it, even though she was super cute. I didn't want a lab. I wanted a bigger dog. My husband wanted long hair. Then an email came through that a dog matched my search...it was her again. I inquired and filled out a short application. Do you know how competitive it is to rescue a puppy? Hundreds of applications! I didn't like that. I don't want to compete to do good for a dog. The lady who reviewed my application called that night and left a message asking if we had a fenced in yard, which we do. I returned the message with a message that we did. The next day she called and said "Holly the Pup" was ours if we wanted her. She was saving her specifically for us because out of all the applications, she felt we were most suited to her. Suddenly, there we were on a cold Friday night in an overflow parking lot at the Cracker Barrel with three excited boys in the car waiting for a van to arrive from West Virginia, a partner rescue group with ours in New Jersey. I'm pretty sure we foiled a few drug deals and/or lady of the night exchanges while we waited, our own car rocking back and forth as the children could not contain their enthusiasm.
Puppies are hard work. They pee and poop a lot, and they don't care where they do it. They will eat ANYthing in front of them regardless of whether or not it is likely to kill them. And they bite! Hard! With very sharp teeth! I knew all of this. I've raised a puppy before. I've been around tons of puppies. I thought I was ready, and then...
That first night with her was obviously rough, and it didn't help that I woke up sick around midnight. I'm pretty good at feeling a cold coming on and will make my echinacea tea and take my vitamin C and zinc tabs to help fight off a cold. This hit me without warning, slowly but powerfully. I was okay over the weekend, but not feeling any better than that first night. Then Tuesday morning came, and threw me a whole new curve ball.
Last week, I fell off a chair. Yes, a chair. I went to sit down. I thought the chair was over farther than it was and only one butt cheek hit it, making it slide out even farther and I went down into a basket of magazines. My right elbow hit the knob of an antique sewing machine near the chair. It hurt. It bruised a little. But, I got over it pretty quickly because who wants to brag about falling off a chair and then having to convince people that no, I was NOT drinking.
This past Tuesday morning, my elbow started hurting me really badly. I couldn't put any pressure on it, and bending it started to hurt. The skin started to feel sensitive as well. So I looked in the mirror and there was a giant pimple on the tip of my elbow! A giant pimple! I will spare you all the oozy, gory details, but it got worse as the day went on. I thought about going to urgent care, but who goes to urgent care for a pimple on her elbow? Well, I do because the next day when I was getting ready for my shower and took off my nightgown, I looked in the mirror to find a brilliant red ring around the pimple four inches in diameter.
Apparently when I fell, the skin must have broken ever so slightly and bacteria got in causing an infection. It happens, so I'm told. I sat in the waiting room, getting sicker by the minute, my throat becoming sore and swollen and congestion building in my chest. Luckily with the pimple, I could forego the strep test and was put on a round of antibiotics that will hopefully knock all the crap out of me.
This. This with three little boys and a new puppy. And now a blizzard. A blizzard! And did I mention that I had the pup to the emergency vet today? I haven't even been able to research pet insurance and the dog vomited this morning and had mucus in her urine. She's fine now and has shown no signs of anything wrong since this morning. The vet is running a urinalysis to see if it's an infection. He kept saying that they never close, even in a blizzard! Good for you! I get that you are here all weekend, but that doesn't help me if I can't get to you! That's why I went to the emergency vet in the first place, because I was scared of waiting and having something happen during the blizzard. The blizzard! A frickin' blizzard when we went to Christmas Eve church service in shorts and t-shirts!
So, yeah, it's been a long week. I kept thinking about this blog and then about the laundry piling up and then about getting the entire house cleaned and eating five servings of fruits and veggies every day and yeah, it's just been a big fail.
But, my cold is better. My elbow is sort of better. Parts of my floor are very clean wherever I wipe up the pee. And when I feel sad or overwhelmed or lonely, I have a very cuddly puppy to scoop into my arms and make me feel better.
(Stay tuned for the next installment written by Ramsy, the fifteen year old cat who is not amused by the addition of yet another puppy.)
I had my heart set on a Great Bernese, a cross between a Great Pyrenees and a Bernese Mountain Dog. They are very expensive and the breeder I found was in Colorado, so tack on a $400 airfare fee. Our names went on the waiting list. It'd be a few months out, the perfect time to wait and grieve.
I'm not a dog shopper, typically. I'm usually a dog adopter. I felt a little guilty about "buying" a dog, so I looked around on some rescue websites. The first dog I saw was this cute little brown lab mix called "Holly the Pup." Let me back up a bit...
My oldest son who was having a really hard time with the loss of our dog spent the night of her death with my husband and me talking about passed loved ones. My husband and I both said our dogs are always with us, even if they now are in heaven. Our loved ones send us signs to let us know they are watching out for us, our own personal guardian angel dogs. I told him how when we got our Indiana, we didn't know anything about her, what kind of dog she was or even what color. We just said we'd take a puppy. As it turns out, she looked just like my dog Hollie from when I was a little girl. (You see where this is going, right?) And that was how I knew Hollie was looking out for me, by sending me Indiana.
So, this Holly the Pup shows up first on like three searches I ran, and I kept ignoring it, even though she was super cute. I didn't want a lab. I wanted a bigger dog. My husband wanted long hair. Then an email came through that a dog matched my search...it was her again. I inquired and filled out a short application. Do you know how competitive it is to rescue a puppy? Hundreds of applications! I didn't like that. I don't want to compete to do good for a dog. The lady who reviewed my application called that night and left a message asking if we had a fenced in yard, which we do. I returned the message with a message that we did. The next day she called and said "Holly the Pup" was ours if we wanted her. She was saving her specifically for us because out of all the applications, she felt we were most suited to her. Suddenly, there we were on a cold Friday night in an overflow parking lot at the Cracker Barrel with three excited boys in the car waiting for a van to arrive from West Virginia, a partner rescue group with ours in New Jersey. I'm pretty sure we foiled a few drug deals and/or lady of the night exchanges while we waited, our own car rocking back and forth as the children could not contain their enthusiasm.
Puppies are hard work. They pee and poop a lot, and they don't care where they do it. They will eat ANYthing in front of them regardless of whether or not it is likely to kill them. And they bite! Hard! With very sharp teeth! I knew all of this. I've raised a puppy before. I've been around tons of puppies. I thought I was ready, and then...
That first night with her was obviously rough, and it didn't help that I woke up sick around midnight. I'm pretty good at feeling a cold coming on and will make my echinacea tea and take my vitamin C and zinc tabs to help fight off a cold. This hit me without warning, slowly but powerfully. I was okay over the weekend, but not feeling any better than that first night. Then Tuesday morning came, and threw me a whole new curve ball.
Last week, I fell off a chair. Yes, a chair. I went to sit down. I thought the chair was over farther than it was and only one butt cheek hit it, making it slide out even farther and I went down into a basket of magazines. My right elbow hit the knob of an antique sewing machine near the chair. It hurt. It bruised a little. But, I got over it pretty quickly because who wants to brag about falling off a chair and then having to convince people that no, I was NOT drinking.
This past Tuesday morning, my elbow started hurting me really badly. I couldn't put any pressure on it, and bending it started to hurt. The skin started to feel sensitive as well. So I looked in the mirror and there was a giant pimple on the tip of my elbow! A giant pimple! I will spare you all the oozy, gory details, but it got worse as the day went on. I thought about going to urgent care, but who goes to urgent care for a pimple on her elbow? Well, I do because the next day when I was getting ready for my shower and took off my nightgown, I looked in the mirror to find a brilliant red ring around the pimple four inches in diameter.
Apparently when I fell, the skin must have broken ever so slightly and bacteria got in causing an infection. It happens, so I'm told. I sat in the waiting room, getting sicker by the minute, my throat becoming sore and swollen and congestion building in my chest. Luckily with the pimple, I could forego the strep test and was put on a round of antibiotics that will hopefully knock all the crap out of me.
This. This with three little boys and a new puppy. And now a blizzard. A blizzard! And did I mention that I had the pup to the emergency vet today? I haven't even been able to research pet insurance and the dog vomited this morning and had mucus in her urine. She's fine now and has shown no signs of anything wrong since this morning. The vet is running a urinalysis to see if it's an infection. He kept saying that they never close, even in a blizzard! Good for you! I get that you are here all weekend, but that doesn't help me if I can't get to you! That's why I went to the emergency vet in the first place, because I was scared of waiting and having something happen during the blizzard. The blizzard! A frickin' blizzard when we went to Christmas Eve church service in shorts and t-shirts!
So, yeah, it's been a long week. I kept thinking about this blog and then about the laundry piling up and then about getting the entire house cleaned and eating five servings of fruits and veggies every day and yeah, it's just been a big fail.
But, my cold is better. My elbow is sort of better. Parts of my floor are very clean wherever I wipe up the pee. And when I feel sad or overwhelmed or lonely, I have a very cuddly puppy to scoop into my arms and make me feel better.
(Stay tuned for the next installment written by Ramsy, the fifteen year old cat who is not amused by the addition of yet another puppy.)
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Navigating the Grief
As a family, this has been one of the hardest weeks we've ever had to endure. We're all trying to make sense of this experience because it's a first for all of us. My kids are experiencing their first time with loss and the questions that losing someone you love brings about. I'm trying to wrestle with so many feelings I didn't think I'd have as an adult after losing an animal. And we're all just trying to hold it together.
As a mother, it's been an interesting time in seeing how my boys are processing all of this. They're level of understanding is much more than I ever gave them credit for. My oldest son is actually doing quite well. The vet made a stone for us to put in their memorial garden, so he insisted that he go to place the stone in the garden. He was also very excited to pick out toys to donate to the animal shelter. He is using all these actions to heal, which is very comforting to me. The only strange thing is that he is now transferring his affection onto the cat. The cat is NOT amused. He has never really appreciated children, but has done an excellent job in tolerating them. Having the dog help distract the boys away from him...until now.
The two younger ones have been having a harder time than I first expected. It's hit them a little later and I often find them standing with shoulders drooped and tears gently falling. My youngest one especially at random moments declares that he misses her. Picking him up from school yesterday, he asked if she was in the car; I often brought her to pick up. I reminded him that she had died. The conversation that ensued:
"Is God all powerful?"
"Yeeesss??"
"Then He can bring her back to life, right?"
"Yes, He can, but he won't."
"But, why?" (tears welling up in his big blue eyes)
"Because God only lets dogs on Earth for a short time so we can have more dogs and give even more our love."
That seemed to appease him, and I know, it is imminent that we are getting another dog after that conversation. I really thought I'd want more time to heal, but this is where I am a bit shocked by the circumstances. I knew I'd miss her and feel the emptiness in the house without her. I knew coming through the back door would be excruciating. I expected to look out the back door expecting to see her, but only seeing a yard full of squirrels. What I did not expect was this feeling of vulnerability. I feel so exposed. She has had my back, home alone during the day with the boys. I always knew when someone was walking by on the street and she sounded the alarm with every push of the doorbell or knock on the door. Now, silence. It scares me. I haven't been sleeping at night. Having an overactive imagination, I am always hearing things that go bump in the night...or day...but her silence told me all was fine. If there wasn't silence, I'd know something was wrong. Now the bumps come and there's silence regardless. Even my husband, the night owl, said to me a few nights after her passing, "I think I'm just going to go to bed. It's too lonely downstairs without her." It was 8:30.
So we adjust, but not for long. We are a dog family, just currently without the dog.
As a mother, it's been an interesting time in seeing how my boys are processing all of this. They're level of understanding is much more than I ever gave them credit for. My oldest son is actually doing quite well. The vet made a stone for us to put in their memorial garden, so he insisted that he go to place the stone in the garden. He was also very excited to pick out toys to donate to the animal shelter. He is using all these actions to heal, which is very comforting to me. The only strange thing is that he is now transferring his affection onto the cat. The cat is NOT amused. He has never really appreciated children, but has done an excellent job in tolerating them. Having the dog help distract the boys away from him...until now.
The two younger ones have been having a harder time than I first expected. It's hit them a little later and I often find them standing with shoulders drooped and tears gently falling. My youngest one especially at random moments declares that he misses her. Picking him up from school yesterday, he asked if she was in the car; I often brought her to pick up. I reminded him that she had died. The conversation that ensued:
"Is God all powerful?"
"Yeeesss??"
"Then He can bring her back to life, right?"
"Yes, He can, but he won't."
"But, why?" (tears welling up in his big blue eyes)
"Because God only lets dogs on Earth for a short time so we can have more dogs and give even more our love."
That seemed to appease him, and I know, it is imminent that we are getting another dog after that conversation. I really thought I'd want more time to heal, but this is where I am a bit shocked by the circumstances. I knew I'd miss her and feel the emptiness in the house without her. I knew coming through the back door would be excruciating. I expected to look out the back door expecting to see her, but only seeing a yard full of squirrels. What I did not expect was this feeling of vulnerability. I feel so exposed. She has had my back, home alone during the day with the boys. I always knew when someone was walking by on the street and she sounded the alarm with every push of the doorbell or knock on the door. Now, silence. It scares me. I haven't been sleeping at night. Having an overactive imagination, I am always hearing things that go bump in the night...or day...but her silence told me all was fine. If there wasn't silence, I'd know something was wrong. Now the bumps come and there's silence regardless. Even my husband, the night owl, said to me a few nights after her passing, "I think I'm just going to go to bed. It's too lonely downstairs without her." It was 8:30.
So we adjust, but not for long. We are a dog family, just currently without the dog.
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
Goodbye, Sweet Pup
Yesterday was one of the hardest experiences I've ever had. The mass in her mouth began bleeding over the weekend. She was pawing at her face and compulsively licking her legs most likely out of frustration over the sore in her mouth. On Saturday we made the call to the vet, Monday morning 10:00 AM. We had a final day to get in our last hugs and pets and kisses and to say goodbye to our dear, dear friend.
We were with her when she passed. The last person she saw as she breathed her final breath was me huddled over her, petting her and telling her what a good girl she was. And oh how I miss her! Last night the door bell rang three times. No one comes to our door, no one. I held my breath each time for the howls to ensue, but silence. Terrible, lonely silence. And not only that, but vulnerability. For the first time there wasn't a dog between me and whoever was on the other side of that door.
This was my boys' first experience with death. They each are handling it very differently, my oldest son taking it the hardest. He's upset because he feels he was robbed of three years with her; she was three when he was born. He feels we should have waited to get her as a puppy until he was born then he'd have those extra years. His reasoning is a little off, but the feeling was dead on. I had twelve years with her, he had nine, but either way it wasn't long enough. I realized just how short her life was. It's amazing how much love is shared in those twelve short years.
We are going to make a headstone for her in the backyard and we are taking a collection of items to donate to the local animal shelter. I am going to get a necklace for myself. All little tokens to ease the pain a little less and preserve and honor her memory. But for now, there are just tears and hugs and more tears.
We were with her when she passed. The last person she saw as she breathed her final breath was me huddled over her, petting her and telling her what a good girl she was. And oh how I miss her! Last night the door bell rang three times. No one comes to our door, no one. I held my breath each time for the howls to ensue, but silence. Terrible, lonely silence. And not only that, but vulnerability. For the first time there wasn't a dog between me and whoever was on the other side of that door.
This was my boys' first experience with death. They each are handling it very differently, my oldest son taking it the hardest. He's upset because he feels he was robbed of three years with her; she was three when he was born. He feels we should have waited to get her as a puppy until he was born then he'd have those extra years. His reasoning is a little off, but the feeling was dead on. I had twelve years with her, he had nine, but either way it wasn't long enough. I realized just how short her life was. It's amazing how much love is shared in those twelve short years.
We are going to make a headstone for her in the backyard and we are taking a collection of items to donate to the local animal shelter. I am going to get a necklace for myself. All little tokens to ease the pain a little less and preserve and honor her memory. But for now, there are just tears and hugs and more tears.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
Goals & Questions
The first couple days of the Simple Abundance journey are pretty gentle. They, for one, are short, just a couple paragraphs. And two, they only ask you to think and write a few things down. Think...I do way too much of that, but yesterday I did force myself to write some of my thoughts down on paper. It's amazing how therapeutic that can be. Day one of the Simple Abundance journey suggests making a list of goals or plans or ideas you want to explore for the upcoming year, so here's what I wrote down:
Photography
Many people have said to me that I should pursue photography as a career, or at least a somewhat lucrative hobby. I love taking pictures and have read up on some basic techniques that have made some of my shots pretty awesome. But, as soon as you say the word 'settings' my brain goes a bit fuzzy. The mechanical, technical part of it all is where I get a bit stupid. I keep saying I want to take a class. My dad, who has no photography skills whatsoever nor does he care learn any, bought a state of the art digital camera last summer. Why? Because he could. He doesn't understand why this irks me. One of the reasons I haven't taken a class is because I don't really have, nor can I afford, the equipment. I think he'll let me borrow the camera for a course, so that is going to be one of my monthly goals in the spring or summer. I want to explore this a little more and have waited far too long to do so.
Writing
Duh. I've picked this back up again. I got a little too sensitive and dejected, but last year at this time when I was writing consistently I felt better. So writing.
Crocheting
Now that I can follow an actual crochet pattern and have graduated to intermediate level, I'm contemplating crocheting for cash, in a semi-lucrative hobby sort of way. It's relaxing and I can be somewhat social while doing it, watching TV or a movie with my family or taking a turn or two with the video game controller. The problem, or hitch, is going to be making enough items to sell. I don't want it to turn into a chore, but rather a labor of love.
Home Projects
Last year when I began my monthly challenges I had planned that one month in the spring was going to be devoted to home improvement projects. When I returned to work, that didn't happen. I really want to take time this year to make some affordable improvements to our house. This task is a bit daunting because owning a house is a never-ending list of projects, many of which are expensive.
Homesteading
It has always been a dream of mine to live on a small farm and live off the land as much as possible. Why I moved to a suburb of Philadelphia in South Jersey is beyond me. Our borough won't even allow us to have a backyard chicken coop. If I lived one block over in the next borough, I'd be allowed chickens and even a couple of goats. While the prospect of having chickens, goats, and maybe a couple of donkeys is one hold, I have decided to try and make my home as much of a homestead as the borough of Palmyra will allow it to be. For one, I want to begin worm composting. And I'm contemplating beekeeping, but I'll have to research more into that for the safety of my kids. We have two raised bed vegetable gardens which produced the best harvest we've had yet. There's definitely a learning curve involved there. And finally, eleven years ago my mother-in-law bought me a canner. I have yet to use it. It's very intimidating, but this year I want to begin canning more than just strawberry jam.
So those are all my plans for the new year. Pretty hefty, I know. The second day of the Simple Abundance journey calls for you to "live the questions". All of the above are linked to some major questions I have for my family's and my own future. Our kids' schooling is a major concern, so we have contemplated moving for them and also explored the possibility of sending them to private school. This, of course, leads to questions regarding funding of such a venture which in turn leads to me exploring new ways to make money for the family and new career paths. So many "what ifs". I realized last year in the middle of teaching that I was living the questions. I had been asking myself for three years if I wanted to return to teaching. Guess what? There's only one way to know the answer. You have to live the question and then you get your answer. So all of those above projects are me living my questions, exploring new possibilities, looking for some open windows.
Photography
Many people have said to me that I should pursue photography as a career, or at least a somewhat lucrative hobby. I love taking pictures and have read up on some basic techniques that have made some of my shots pretty awesome. But, as soon as you say the word 'settings' my brain goes a bit fuzzy. The mechanical, technical part of it all is where I get a bit stupid. I keep saying I want to take a class. My dad, who has no photography skills whatsoever nor does he care learn any, bought a state of the art digital camera last summer. Why? Because he could. He doesn't understand why this irks me. One of the reasons I haven't taken a class is because I don't really have, nor can I afford, the equipment. I think he'll let me borrow the camera for a course, so that is going to be one of my monthly goals in the spring or summer. I want to explore this a little more and have waited far too long to do so.
Writing
Duh. I've picked this back up again. I got a little too sensitive and dejected, but last year at this time when I was writing consistently I felt better. So writing.
Crocheting
Now that I can follow an actual crochet pattern and have graduated to intermediate level, I'm contemplating crocheting for cash, in a semi-lucrative hobby sort of way. It's relaxing and I can be somewhat social while doing it, watching TV or a movie with my family or taking a turn or two with the video game controller. The problem, or hitch, is going to be making enough items to sell. I don't want it to turn into a chore, but rather a labor of love.
Home Projects
Last year when I began my monthly challenges I had planned that one month in the spring was going to be devoted to home improvement projects. When I returned to work, that didn't happen. I really want to take time this year to make some affordable improvements to our house. This task is a bit daunting because owning a house is a never-ending list of projects, many of which are expensive.
Homesteading
It has always been a dream of mine to live on a small farm and live off the land as much as possible. Why I moved to a suburb of Philadelphia in South Jersey is beyond me. Our borough won't even allow us to have a backyard chicken coop. If I lived one block over in the next borough, I'd be allowed chickens and even a couple of goats. While the prospect of having chickens, goats, and maybe a couple of donkeys is one hold, I have decided to try and make my home as much of a homestead as the borough of Palmyra will allow it to be. For one, I want to begin worm composting. And I'm contemplating beekeeping, but I'll have to research more into that for the safety of my kids. We have two raised bed vegetable gardens which produced the best harvest we've had yet. There's definitely a learning curve involved there. And finally, eleven years ago my mother-in-law bought me a canner. I have yet to use it. It's very intimidating, but this year I want to begin canning more than just strawberry jam.
So those are all my plans for the new year. Pretty hefty, I know. The second day of the Simple Abundance journey calls for you to "live the questions". All of the above are linked to some major questions I have for my family's and my own future. Our kids' schooling is a major concern, so we have contemplated moving for them and also explored the possibility of sending them to private school. This, of course, leads to questions regarding funding of such a venture which in turn leads to me exploring new ways to make money for the family and new career paths. So many "what ifs". I realized last year in the middle of teaching that I was living the questions. I had been asking myself for three years if I wanted to return to teaching. Guess what? There's only one way to know the answer. You have to live the question and then you get your answer. So all of those above projects are me living my questions, exploring new possibilities, looking for some open windows.
Friday, January 1, 2016
Happy 2016!
I'm back...again. I have never been one for New Year's resolutions. For one, being a teacher I have always felt that September was a better time for starting fresh. I also feel that coming off the holidays is probably one of the hardest times to reset. I mean, you're completely exhausted and have so much clean up that just getting the decorations put away and the cookies down to one tin is success enough. January has always felt like a time to rest and recover, not necessarily start new. I also get a bit superstitious this time of year. There are so many statements that this year is going to be the year, I can't help but feel like that is tempting fate. I can almost hear Fate saying, "Oh yeah? This is going to be the best year of your life? Let's just see about that." I guess that is the pessimist (though I prefer realist) in me.
However, this year I'm feeling a little differently. Looking back to where I was this time last year, I realize how monumental 2015 was for me. I became a full-time working mom again, abandoned my career, and went back to being at home with my kids. January through June I was in full on survival mode. There was no time for resolutions. It was simply adjust, adjust, adjust to being in the classroom again. Only I never did adjust to it. In fact, I picked up some pretty nasty habits as a result of it and continued with them the remaining six months of 2015. In addition to the bad habits, I was also floundering around feeling a whole lot lost and without purpose and stuck in a big, fat rut.
As 2016 drew closer and closer, I decided that this year I'd make some resolutions and recommit to my family, my health, and my home. I'm taking it in baby steps, no complete overhaul on January 1st. I have to be gentle with myself because I already know there are going to be some major obstacles and heartaches to endure. This is not going to be the best year ever. I know this because we are facing the impending death of our family dog. She has been with us for almost thirteen years and has terminal cancer. We were graced with her presence over Christmas, but she is fading. This will be the first pet I have ever had to put down, and it will be the first time my boys have ever experienced death and loss. To be perfectly honest, I began January 1st in tears with a feeling of overwhelming depression and loss. And that's okay. That is life. I'm embracing those feelings because it is depressing. It's sad and awful and to push those feelings aside would be an injustice to her. So, I'm taking it slowly and steadily and gently.
The first resolution is to commit myself to reading Sarah BanBreathnach's Simple Abundance. If you are unfamiliar with it, it first came out around twenty years ago. It's a very large, very pink book that was featured on Oprah. For each day of the year there is an essay to read that allows you to reflect upon some aspect of your life. Six years ago, a mother of two under three, I was deep into mommy-dom and feeling a little out of touch with myself. I used one of my gift cards and began reading it on January 1st. I carried out many of the exercises and made habits of some of them. That book was a nightly meditation and saw me through one of the most traumatic times of my life--the loss of my night school job. In the midst of losing that part of my life, I continued reading Simple Abundance and it kept me feeling hopeful and optimistic for the future. It also got me thinking about who I was as an individual. She continually talks about "the authentic self". I felt I could use a refresher course.
My second resolution is to resume my monthly challenge, only I no longer want to refer to it as a challenge. Too much pressure! I simply want to have a focus each month. January is going to be about finding order again in my home--as much order as is possible with three little boys and a husband. But, the month will include the reinstatement of my weekly cleaning schedule as well as some key areas in the house that need decluttering and reorganizing. Today I began by scrubbing our bathroom. One room down!
My third resolution is to begin living a healthier lifestyle again. As I mentioned in my last post, I was focusing on our food spending. While I didn't stay within my $600 budget for the months of November and December, I did cut back spending by a few hundred dollars each month. Progress. Baby steps. I want to continue that progress and also add in some healthy foods and delete some not so healthy foods. I'm starting with "Strive for Five"; i.e. five servings of fruits or vegetables every day. I thought about recommitting myself to my calorie counter and cutting carbs, but it's January! It's cold, somewhat, and there are still cookies and New Year's Eve appetizers in the house. Baby steps. I am cutting alcohol out of my diet for the month of January. At the risk of sounding like a borderline alcoholic, that glass of wine was starting to turn into two or three and on more nights in a week than I care to admit. So today I had a clementine with my breakfast and for lunch I had a buffalo chicken salad where I forced myself to eat all the veggies before finishing the chicken. (It's usually the other way around.) We're having brussels sprouts with dinner, and I think I'll follow up with another piece of fruit. And instead of having a glass of wine while typing this, I finished a cup of tea.
There are my three teeny-tiny resolutions. Reflect, focus, add more of the good and take out some of the bad. I am reminded of a quote by Zora Neale Hurston: There are years that ask questions and years that answer. Last year began with a very strong answer to the question of whether I wanted to continue being a teacher. It ended with many, many questions when the answer was no. I look towards 2016 with both apprehension and hope. I know sadness awaits, but life does tend to balance itself so there is joy to be had.
However, this year I'm feeling a little differently. Looking back to where I was this time last year, I realize how monumental 2015 was for me. I became a full-time working mom again, abandoned my career, and went back to being at home with my kids. January through June I was in full on survival mode. There was no time for resolutions. It was simply adjust, adjust, adjust to being in the classroom again. Only I never did adjust to it. In fact, I picked up some pretty nasty habits as a result of it and continued with them the remaining six months of 2015. In addition to the bad habits, I was also floundering around feeling a whole lot lost and without purpose and stuck in a big, fat rut.
As 2016 drew closer and closer, I decided that this year I'd make some resolutions and recommit to my family, my health, and my home. I'm taking it in baby steps, no complete overhaul on January 1st. I have to be gentle with myself because I already know there are going to be some major obstacles and heartaches to endure. This is not going to be the best year ever. I know this because we are facing the impending death of our family dog. She has been with us for almost thirteen years and has terminal cancer. We were graced with her presence over Christmas, but she is fading. This will be the first pet I have ever had to put down, and it will be the first time my boys have ever experienced death and loss. To be perfectly honest, I began January 1st in tears with a feeling of overwhelming depression and loss. And that's okay. That is life. I'm embracing those feelings because it is depressing. It's sad and awful and to push those feelings aside would be an injustice to her. So, I'm taking it slowly and steadily and gently.
The first resolution is to commit myself to reading Sarah BanBreathnach's Simple Abundance. If you are unfamiliar with it, it first came out around twenty years ago. It's a very large, very pink book that was featured on Oprah. For each day of the year there is an essay to read that allows you to reflect upon some aspect of your life. Six years ago, a mother of two under three, I was deep into mommy-dom and feeling a little out of touch with myself. I used one of my gift cards and began reading it on January 1st. I carried out many of the exercises and made habits of some of them. That book was a nightly meditation and saw me through one of the most traumatic times of my life--the loss of my night school job. In the midst of losing that part of my life, I continued reading Simple Abundance and it kept me feeling hopeful and optimistic for the future. It also got me thinking about who I was as an individual. She continually talks about "the authentic self". I felt I could use a refresher course.
My second resolution is to resume my monthly challenge, only I no longer want to refer to it as a challenge. Too much pressure! I simply want to have a focus each month. January is going to be about finding order again in my home--as much order as is possible with three little boys and a husband. But, the month will include the reinstatement of my weekly cleaning schedule as well as some key areas in the house that need decluttering and reorganizing. Today I began by scrubbing our bathroom. One room down!
My third resolution is to begin living a healthier lifestyle again. As I mentioned in my last post, I was focusing on our food spending. While I didn't stay within my $600 budget for the months of November and December, I did cut back spending by a few hundred dollars each month. Progress. Baby steps. I want to continue that progress and also add in some healthy foods and delete some not so healthy foods. I'm starting with "Strive for Five"; i.e. five servings of fruits or vegetables every day. I thought about recommitting myself to my calorie counter and cutting carbs, but it's January! It's cold, somewhat, and there are still cookies and New Year's Eve appetizers in the house. Baby steps. I am cutting alcohol out of my diet for the month of January. At the risk of sounding like a borderline alcoholic, that glass of wine was starting to turn into two or three and on more nights in a week than I care to admit. So today I had a clementine with my breakfast and for lunch I had a buffalo chicken salad where I forced myself to eat all the veggies before finishing the chicken. (It's usually the other way around.) We're having brussels sprouts with dinner, and I think I'll follow up with another piece of fruit. And instead of having a glass of wine while typing this, I finished a cup of tea.
There are my three teeny-tiny resolutions. Reflect, focus, add more of the good and take out some of the bad. I am reminded of a quote by Zora Neale Hurston: There are years that ask questions and years that answer. Last year began with a very strong answer to the question of whether I wanted to continue being a teacher. It ended with many, many questions when the answer was no. I look towards 2016 with both apprehension and hope. I know sadness awaits, but life does tend to balance itself so there is joy to be had.
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