treading water

You know that feeling in a swimming pool when you think you've reached a point where you're at a depth where you should be able to reach the bottom so you stretch your feet down, and then all of a sudden you can't find the bottom, and your chin dips under the water, the bottom isn't where you thought it was at all, and all of a sudden there's that moment of panic, disorientation, almost of falling, sinking? For a moment you keep going down, how far down it is to reach the bottom? You don't remember the water being this deep. And you can't find it. You bob back up to the top, gasping for breath, looking for air. Are you where you thought you were? Everything looks the same. But everything underneath your feet has somehow changed.  You look around you and everyone seems to have not had any trouble navigating this new depth. Did they grow somehow over time and you missed it? Are they all taller and breathing easily over these inches of water that are suddenly over your head? They glide easily through the water where you are left treading water.

I feel like I am perpetually stuck in a moment like that. That feeling of losing your footing and not being able to find the bottom of the pool. The water feeling too deep somehow.

And yes, I see it. I know how to swim. Of course I can do this. I can get through this. But it takes so much more out of me to tread water and swim everywhere, when I used to be able to walk easily through these depths. And sometimes, I can hold my breath and pretend to be the same as I used to be. I carry rocks in my pockets and walk along on the same ground as everyone else, underwater, and I try to smile. But I can't for long. I have to come back up to the surface to catch my breath and stop and tread water again, while you go on ahead without me. Or I bob up and down, in a crazy lopsided way, grabbing my breath and coming in and out of the water, and you will wonder what in the world I'm trying to do, but I'm just trying to stay doing what I remember I used to do. It's not at all how I remember doing things. I don't remember everything shifting below my feet like this. I don't remember how everything looked so much easier to everyone else. Did I really used to glide so easily like that too? Just doing things? Was it really ever easy? I might have always been somewhere on that edge, slipping and sputtering with water at my chin.

This is what it's like living with chronic pain. Some days are harder than I ever think possible, in ways I never expect and I never feel like anyone truly understands. I feel like the ground under my feet is constantly being pulled out from under me and I can barely tread water and keep going on the bare basics.  I don't know if anyone, even Zac, can ever really grasp how overwhelming it all can become in some moments. Pain and depression coupled together are nasty nasty unrelenting beasts.  They are like underwater serpents grabbing my feet and trying to pull me under. This water is perilous. There are too many ways to go with this metaphor. Let me just suffice by saying please help me along the way, if you see me struggling to stay afloat.  There are monsters swarming beneath my legs, and I cannot reach the bottom, even though it seems like I'm tall enough that I should. And sometimes I've been treading water for far longer than you may realize and my arms may just be at the end of how long they can hold out and burning and screaming for rest. Please be patient with me and I will try to do the same for you. Forgive me when I am tired and overwhelmed. There are no excuses for poor behavior ever. But maybe understanding can be a salve for hurt sometimes. That's all I ask.

anniversary brain dump

otherwise entitled: Welcome to my Brain

or, otherwise known as: Brain, Sometimes I Hate You.

This month marks the One Year Anniversary since this crazy pain started. This is the month I went to my Dr, thinking for sure that since my ear had been hurting for a few weeks, I might have an ear infection. But then he treated me for an ear infection, and my ear still hurt, radiating down into my jaw and in my teeth. And thus began this fun journey of Dr after Dr: dentist, ENT, ENT nerve specialist, neurologist, neurosurgeon, pain management specialist, etc. But I'm getting ahead of myself. At first it was just the Dr, dentist, and ENT. And then after 2 months of ear/jaw/tooth pain, it seemed to go away. Then 2 months later, it was back again, along with the face pain that has now been my constant companion for 8 months. Pain in my ear, cheek, around my eye, along my nose, along my jaw and in my teeth. Every single stinkin' day for 8 months now.

I don't need to rehash the entire story. The point is just that I am sitting here at the ONE YEAR mark and I am just not happy about it. In fact . . . well, in fact I am struggling quite a bit. So I guess I thought I'd just dump some of my thoughts out on you. haha. This will just be totally random, unorganized babbling. I hope you'll read it anyway. {and the side notes in brackets are some of the intruding thoughts that try to fight through the muck, but aren't very successful. I usually just feel worse.}

I have read/heard a lot about how we need to control our thoughts, and the thoughts behind our pain bring us more pain than the pain itself, and we need to let go of negative thoughts, and turn them around, reframe, etc etc etc. Just look at Pinterest and you will find about a million positive thinking quotes, all done up with pretty fonts and pretty colors and pretty backgrounds. And it's all well and good. It is right. I don't disagree. But really, when your thoughts are coming at you like an avalanche, or a rock slide, or more accurately, a mudslide . . . I don't know how to stop them all, or look at the positive, or change them all into pretty helium balloons and watch them float away.

{and then I hear that I should change all my metaphors to be able to see things differently} yes, yes, I know.

The hardest thing is that I am fairly certain that this pain is not going to go away. It is more probable that it will get worse as time goes on, or as I age. Medications are iffy. The one I'm on now has taken me from absolute constant 24/7 pain, to pain that comes and goes, but is still present, coming and going, many many times through each hour throughout the day. And the side effects from that med have been getting worse, I think. They are pretty awful in and of themselves. I don't know if I will ever reach a state of 100% relief. And that is hard to come to terms with. I am physically tired, mentally worn down, and emotionally frayed. {realistic or pessimistic?}

I've also been diagnosed with migraines, as a separate issue from the trigeminal neuralgia pain. I'm experimenting with abortive medications for those. Since I've been tracking it, I've gotten them about 4-5 a month. And then just regular old headaches frequently too. I haven't been tracking that pain. My neurologist has me keeping a pain log, 3 times a day, rating my pain (but only the trigeminal neuralgia). I've been doing it since Feb. And I'm sort of tired of it. Really tired of it. Sick of it. But they want to see how my pain levels change with new meds etc, so I know it makes sense to do it. I just don't want to.

My children need a better mother. I know this just sounds like the trite exclamation of an exhausted depressed mom. But, seriously. This summer has felt more disastrous than much of anything else. My kids are a little out of control. And I cannot do much about it. And then I am filled with the guilt of thinking, if I had taught them better before now, before I came down with the pain issues, then things would be better now. But I have failed. And what will the coming years be like, will they hate me for being the mom that is always sick in bed? {one day at a time . . . see how my trying to see into the future makes me feel worse?}

{and have we mentioned the "what you dwell on is what you get more of" philosophy . .. or that we have brought everything into our life by our own choices, our thoughts, our intentions? So, I've done this to myself. Is that right? Is that what you're trying to tell me?}

A year ago, I was doing a mini-triathlon. I felt strong and healthy. I was so proud of myself for doing that. Perhaps more proud than I should have been. In December as I was thinking of New Year's Resolutions, or things I wanted to do this year, I was planning to do another mini-triathlon and maybe a mud-obstacle race. Then I was hit with pain that got worse with activity, medications that made me so slow and sluggish and sleepy I could barely get out of bed at all, and worsened depression from both the pain and the meds that just made everything feel impossible. Not surprisingly, I have gained weight. My clothes don't fit. I feel discouraged everytime I get dressed. I can't bring myself to consider buying clothes in an even bigger size than I have ever worn in my life. I know I need to diet to even maintain, but I just don't have the self-control when I am depressed and in pain. I hate all of this. I hate it passionately. And it just does not have the simple fix that it used to (eat less and exercise more - not that it's ever simple anyhow). I just don't have it in me. When I compare where I was a year ago to where I am now, it is almost unbearable. {but I know I need to accept my life for what it is now, today. acceptance. Oh boy.}

I have made myself exercise. I miss going to Zumba and have tried to go, even though it hurts a lot. I even went to another class - some mix of aerobic kickboxing or something. But there were only about 5 of us there and the teacher, although a fantastic teacher, was trying to push us with the pep talks "you can do better than that, c'mon you gotta push yourself, you decide how many calories you burn by how hard you work!!!!" and I imagined her eyes were settled on me as I just tried to do what I could, which wasn't much. She didn't know. I guess I could have told her. {I am probably just self-conscious and shouldn't care so much about what I imagine other people are thinking, which they probably aren't even thinking.} Oh well. I kind of hated it.

It is hard for me to be around people. It's hard if they ask how I am and I'm not sure if they really want to hear (again) that I'm not really doing too great. I'm not sure if I should lie (just a little) and say I'm fine. It's hard if they don't ask at all because then I feel like they don't care. It's hard to be around all the happy shining people who have no idea what it's like to be hurting all the time. It's hard to stay home because I don't have the energy to go out and about and deal with the inevitable lights and noise etc that are anywhere and everywhere.

Really. I can't believe I'm saying these things. Thinking them is bad enough.

And have I mentioned how talking and smiling make the pain worse? Um. Yeah. Sometimes as much as I want to talk and smile, I just don't want to put myself through it. So sometimes I may steer clear of people because chances are I just might talk and/or smile. Either that or break into tears without warning. So you see how this becomes problematic, don't you?

And then there comes the whole, "I wouldn't be given this if I weren't strong enough to handle it" or I must be learning something from this, or somethingsomethingsomething. I don't even know what to do with that sometimes. I'm not sure what "handling it" means. I'm still alive? I get out of bed? I've survived another day? Sometimes I just think, is this really a good thing? What good am I doing here?!? {and then I know, I mean a lot, more than anyone can ever express, to my husband, my kids, my extended family . . . I know. But . . . sigh. But. who am I here for? me? them? what role do I fulfill, really, right now? I'm not sure.}

Anyway. This blog post has been really long. And I've started it, set it aside, added to it, closed it several times throughout the day. I don't know what the point is, really. And what I want from it. I don't know. Do I need help? yes, sometimes. Do I want sympathy? yes, sometimes. Do I need someone to listen? yes, definitely. Do I miss my old days of happy skipping frolicking blogging? yes, more than you know. I miss a lot of things. I am grieving for a year that feels lost. And feeling frightened and panicked and unstable at the prospect of who knows how many years to come, more like this. {again, I just need to take one day at a time. One moment. I know. But I am a thinker and a planner and I am more than overwhelmed with these thoughts.}

Part of me feels sorry for dumping this on you. There is nothing really any of you can do. So perhaps I have burdened you unnecessarily with my pain. I hope that I can trust you not to be harsh with me for doing so. I hope that perhaps by scattering these thoughts out to you, you can help diffuse the pain and help carry the burden just by knowing. Just know and understand that sometimes some thing might trigger one of these thoughts, and then that "pang of sadness" becomes like "the engine of a train, pulling all the other sadnesses after it" (paraphrased from Belong to Me, by Marisa de los Santos). I will try, in time, to help my brain keep one thing at a time and keep the mudslide at bay. I will try. Then the negative thoughts will be like balloons, I can hold in my hand, and accept and appreciate, and let go.

and some random thoughts on music

(continuing my thought process started from the Chiquilla zumba song in the last post . . . )

I think I might have mentioned before how I've had a strange complex relationship history with my music. As a teenager, I think I may have overidentified with my music just a bit. It was who I was. And I would never have liked (or admitted to liking) anything at all that didn't fit into my personal definition of coolness. Ohh no. I wouldn't even categorize a band into "music I liked" unless I'd heard the majority of their albums and liked almost all of it. One song wouldn't do it for me. To "like" something basically meant I would be willing to follow them around the country or offer them my firstborn or something. I have no idea what my deal was. Then I "reformed," went off to college, felt overly self-conscious about bothering my dorm and apt. neighbors with playing music, and I basically stopped listening to most of my old stuff. Or the radio. Or much of anything. And I basically went underground with my music tastes for a decade or so (more or less). I'm not sure exactly what happened.

But lately (over the last several yrs), I have finally finally been stepping out into the musical sunshine once again. I've allowed myself to listen to all my old stuff again and not be embarassed by it (great strides, let me tell you). And I am embracing some "new" music (i.e. from the new millenia) while trying not to let my own prejudices get in the way. The best way I've found for doing this is finding music independent of any "coolness factor" context. If I watch a movie and like the soundtrack, I'll look for the artist and then look for other CD's by them and go on from there. (I initially found Iron and Wine, Guster, Joshua Radin and Sondre Lerche that way.) Zac will sometimes hear me listening to something new and ask me where I found it, and he is sometimes amazed by the long story that accompanies the answer. One example is that I found a quote about snails (another obsession of mine) on Pinterest, and it was from some song lyrics I'd never heard of. I found the band who wrote the song. Looked up the song on YouTube and liked it. Checked out the CD from the library. And found another band to possibly like that I'd never heard of before (The Format) and I have absolutely no idea what "kind" of people like this kind of music or what other people think of them. It's weird for me. I'll admit that I had a little panic moment when my twenty-something niece saw the CD and asked me (incredulously? I'm not even sure), "you like this band?" . . . uhhh, I don't know, I think maybe I do. Do I?

But then, yeah why not . . . I'm a mature adult now, right? I can like anything I want (including but not limited to: zumba latin songs, light rock, and whatever other cool and uncool "categories" I may find this stuff in, I'll never even know).
So there!
And that's the point of this long rambling post I guess.
It feels kind of refreshing to finally accept that I really can like whatever I want.
Why did it take me so long to get here??
I don't know.
What about you? Do you ever cringe when you find yourself really liking something that is distinctly "uncool"? no?
Am I just weird? No. Nevermind. Don't tell me. ;)
(sometime I might even tell you what other music I "like" these days - just cuz I'm all bold and brave like that now) haha, yeah right ;)

latest obsessions

I'm not sure why anyone would even care, but I just thought I'd blog a little about a couple of my latest obsessions. I don't think I ever realized before how obsessive I can be about things. But apparently I can. So we'll just go with it for now.

1. Pinterest - I'm sure a lot of you already know about this, but it's my newest toy. So what is it? huh. well. The site says it's a "place to catalog the things you love." It's like a virtual bulletin board where you can pin up all the things that you find beautiful, inspiring, creative, delicious, funny, or whatever else floats your boat. The best thing is that you pin something from the site where you found it (or from other pinterest pins) and it links back to the place it was originally found. And you can create separate boards for different categories of things. So, for instance, I have a board for food and I can pin images of tasty treats that when clicked will bring me right back to the recipe where I found it. Yippee!! Or I can collect my quotes in one place! At last! Or just have dolphin pictures to look at to make me happy without cluttering up my walls (hehe). Or whatever. A lot of people collect ideas for home decorating and design, or clothes and fashion. It can be anything.


And the fun thing is you add friends and follow the boards that you like, so you can be inspired with new things and add to your collections. Fun! :) Or at any rate, I think it's fun. Wanna play too?? Send me an email and I can send you an invite.


2. Zumba. Oh yes. I'm becoming one of those. No, I don't wear fluorescent tank tops and hip hop gangsta pants. And no, my body doesn't exactly move quite like that. But. I do quite enjoy channeling my latent inner latina and flashbacking to my college days of social dance classes where I actually did compete in a cha-cha competition. Oh yes I did. I did not win, for the record. But I did make it to the second round, which felt like an accomplishment for an east coast white girl like myself (I also actually auditioned for the International Folk Dance Team one year. uh huh. But let's not talk about that). ;) Anyway - I like to dance, I'll admit, and my oh my Zumba is fun. The first time I probably burned more calories laughing at myself than from actually doing any of the moves. But laughing is good, too. And supposedly, doing zumba for an hr. burns an insane amount of calories (~ 1000, as opposed to the ~ 250 I burn in an hr of walking). And I love that I don't think when I'm doing it. Walking and running and doing exercise at home, I tend to ruminate on everything too much. But I just cannot think about anything else and attempt any of this stuff. And that's good for me.

The great thing is, I was introduced to a group that does some Zumba classes at our church for free. And now I'm addicted. I've got wacky zumba songs, in spanish, stuck in my head all the time and I count the days til I can go again. I can't even understand what they're saying, but I've taken to tracking down my favorites and actually buying some of these songs off of itunes. See? Obsessed. Me. Yes.

[One of the songs I couldn't resist is Chiquilla (which is in the youtube video I've linked to in the Zumba title. Go take a listen. Really. And have a dance party. Because I know you can't resist.)] :)

Got any new obsessions you'd like to share? Let's hear it.

a note on charter schools

Before I go into a Samuel update (and a rant about my annual placement frustrations), I thought maybe I should explain a little bit about charter schools for those of you who aren't familiar with them.

First off, charter schools are free public schools using public tax dollars. They cannot discriminate in admission, although they can put cap limits on enrollment. This means that there is usually some sort of random lottery or drawing to determine who gets into the school when the number of people wanting to go exceeds the cap on class sizes.

Isaac and Abigail both attend a local charter school. Our house sits just about equidistant from our local neighborhood public school and a charter school that was opening the year that Abigail was starting kindergarten. Having had no previous experience with kids in school, we figured it'd be worth a shot in trying to get into the charter school.

What happens at our school is that the older grades are filled up first, then the younger siblings of those students get preference for filling in the younger grades. After that, whatever spots are left are filled via lottery. If there are more younger siblings than available spots, then they too are put in a preferential lottery drawing, so sometimes even the siblings don't get in (although I can't imagine that happens very often). Abigail got in in kindergarten (out of 5 spots that were left after the siblings filled in) and then Isaac got in automatically, and Samuel and Elisabeth would too.

So, once the school is up and going, as the younger grades move up the only spots that become available are when someone moves away or changes schools. This means your best chance, really, for getting in is usually in kindergarten. (and just so we're all clear, this means that when we opted to put Samuel in public school so he could be in a small-group special needs kindergarten, we gave up his spot in the charter school. After that, he's in the sibling preference pool for the open spots in his next grade, if there are any)

ok. Does that make sense?

So. Some of the advantages, or things that make our school different from our neighborhood school, are that the class sizes are limited to 25 kids per class and only 2 classes per grade. Aside from the academic advantages of smaller classes, I just like having a smaller school setting. I like knowing the director and school secretary fairly well. I like having smaller school functions (although I still hate the crowds even at these).

The charter schools can also have school uniforms. Ours is basically khaki or navy pants and white, red, or navy polo shirts (with some variations, skirts, etc, but that's the basic idea). It's easy!! Shopping for school clothes is easy (although sometimes frustrating to find the right things) - once you find a good supply, you just stock up on all the same things and you're done! wohoo. Also getting dressed in the morning is easy. Mix and match, pick something and throw it on, easy peasy. (There are other more philosophical advantages to wearing uniforms to school, but I won't get into that)

Our charter school also has a different curriculum program than the public school. They are required to follow the same state curriculum standards or what not - but they use different tools and programs, or whatever. I have had mixed experiences with some of that. On the best side, there are some deeper enrichment activities and more academically challenging work and they do try to meet each child at their level. It can be wonderful. On the downside, I have seen a child pushed beyond their ability to the point where it only caused frustration for all of us and we have sometimes had so many extra projects it was ridiculous. But I have concluded that there is no perfect situation. Especially for a family of more than one child. What fits and works perfectly for one child may not be as great for another. But, unless you feel up to paying private school tuition (think in terms of college tuition, seriously), and driving hours back and forth, and possibly needing to be in multiple places at the exact same time, I cannot see that you can hand-pick a different school for each individual child's needs. (If you have somehow figured out a feasible way to do that, by all means let me know.)

I should also note that the charter school is legally required to provide special education and services just as the public school is. All of the same special education laws apply.

Anyway - and finally, our charter school does not provide transportation. And actually we are close enough to the neighborhood school that our kids would not be bussed there either. The exception to this is for the kids in a self-contained small-group special needs class - the public school provides buses for those kids no matter where they live (such as Samuel).

So. There you go. (phew! That was long-winded, sorry)

If you happen to still have questions or curious to find out more, you can go to the Utah State Office of Education website and read about charter schools here.

when push comes to shove - and other random thoughts

1. I've been feeling the need to do better with many things in my life. I've been reminded of many areas where I am floundering and flailing, or simply failing. Some of them have been nothing but gentle reminders, simple inspiration and motivation. Some have been more forcefully brought to my attention. And I am trying desperately not to let that little push to do better turn into that push that shoves me face-down on the ground, scraped and bruised and hurting. It is a very very fine line with me. I know this. And I know have to be careful not to be too hard on myself to the point where I am debilitated by what I see as my many faults and shortcomings. If I'm not careful, I can quickly become so overwhelmed that I am paralyzed by it. Sometimes I hate that I have to be so cautious. One of my life struggles, it seems, is learning to accept some of these limitations I know I have - without allowing myself to become lazy or complacent. Sometimes it's not at all clear to me which is which.

I've been thinking about the role of guilt in our lives. Not Big Guilt. But little guilts. Sometimes feeling guilty is healthy and is the reminder from our conscience that our actions are not being consistent with what we know to be right, or good, or whatever. Sometimes though, we can feel guilty for guilt that is not our own. Or we can let the weight of feeling bad become the only motivator for wanting to change, which I don't think it should be. Or we use the guilt as a way to self-flagellate in a way that is not useful, healthy or motivating. I don't know exactly. Balance, balance. The precarious dance.

Anyway. I don't really have any profound insights on this dilemma. I'm just thinking out loud.

2. The other day when I didn't allow Elisabeth to have something she wanted when she wanted it, she exclaimed to me that she wanted to go live with Grandma and have her be her mom instead of me. This isn't the first time she's told me something along these lines. She's told me before that she wants to go live at preschool, too, and that she doesn't want me to be her mom. She's the first child I've had to tell me this (so far) - and I've been unsure how to respond. Ignore it? Tell her to go right ahead? Sometimes this comes at such a point of frustration and annoyance that it's all I can do not to just growl and scream. Not words. Just noise.

Well on this day, luckily I garnered some extra patience from somewhere, who knows where, and I told her that I would miss her so much if she did this.
She asked why?
And I said because she is my little girl.
And then she started to cry and said she would miss me so much too.

And I was thankful for that moment. That small moment when the frustration (on both ends) dissipated and was replaced by more tender feelings.

3. I am trying hard not to measure my worth, or the worth of my blog, or of my posts, by the comments I am, or am not, receiving. I know that many of you are reading by email, or blog feeds, or on facebook, and to leave a comment requires extra steps. Or you just don't feel you have anything to say. Or just busy. Or whatever. There are a million and one reasons why I myself do not always comment on posts, even when I do like them a lot. And I know that begging for comments is ineffective at best, and downright sniveling (or something) at worst. I'm just letting you know that I'm thinking about it. And trying not to let it get to me. hahaha.

4. Sick kids. It feels like I've had sick kids, of one sort or another, for weeks and weeks. having sick kids at home throw off all my equilibrium. I hate that.

5. I've been making a mental list of things that have broken or malfunctioned recently:

our dishwasher
the doorbell
the blender
my laptop
the garage door opener
the tv digital converter box

. . . there might be something else I've forgotten.

The dishwasher and blender were relatively easy fixes. Well, one was more quickly fixed out of perceived necessity. The other was relatively cheap. The others . . . just feel more complicated. Or for one reason or another keep being put off. It just kind of weighs on my brain a little. Anyway.

6. There are some people close to me going through some very rough things lately. My heart is heavy thinking of them and wanting to help and allieve the burden - but knowing there is only so much, if anything at all, that I can really do. Just something else on my mind.

So anyway. Those are some of my thoughts today. This week is supposed to be rainy and cool, which I am looking forward to. I am also happy that this week is the last week of soccer season. And . . . I just love fall. And I am plowing through some really good reading. So there are happy things, as well. There are, indeed. :)

take care . . .

a little lost

Rainstorm
(by me - 1992)

I've been losing things lately.
Picked up this piece of
paper intending to write
poetry
it storms through my mind
in torrents of rain
thunderclouds obscure
the sunlight
and in my mind
darkness prevails.
I sit down
and minutes later it is gone
No thoughts to speak of
Even the word
Poetry
is beautiful
yet beauty is lost
when lightning strikes.
I feel nothing.
I've been losing things lately.
I've been losing my thoughts lately.
I've been losing my mind.
--------------------------------------------------------------------

I've lost my watch. Again. I only take off my watch in 2 places, really. So it frustrates me to no end when I cannot find it in either of those 2 places, which happens far too frequently.

One, I take it off when I am on the computer, which means that it should be either on the couch where I use the computer, in between the cushions on the couch, on the floor next to the couch, under the couch, or on the desk next to the couch. It's not.

And two, I take it off when I go to bed or take a nap. Which means it should be on the bed, on the floor next to the bed, under the bed, or on my dresser next to the bed. It's not.

And not having my watch leaves me feeling unsettled, out of sorts, like I'm missing things, forgetting things, not really where I should be or doing what I should be doing. Funny how a simple watch can ground me to reality.

Maybe a day of forgetting and losing things isn't all bad sometimes, though. If only I could free myself from needing it so badly . . .

But it's just how I seem to be lately (with or without my watch). Not really here nor there. Not really in the groove. My brain is out floating around . . . someplace else (I wonder where?!?).

School started. I have about 3, 4, maybe 5 backlogged blog posts crammed in my brain, waiting impatiently to be released. It's soccer season for 2 or 3 of the kids. One child was signed up and now refuses to participate (guess who??). I am also feeling very lost with Samuel's new school. I missed the back to school night, and I think I missed a lot. I had to call the office and request a student handbook, but I am still unsure of how school lunch accounts, homework, etc etc are handled there. And having the school 20 min away makes it difficult to just drop over and make sure of things. Like I didn't want to spend 40 min of travel time just to go over and find his lost lunch box last week, and it took a week for someone to help him find it. Gross.

Last week I forgot about a piano lesson (thank you to the teacher who called me 5 min after it started to get him there). This week I have forgotten about a ballet lesson, a soccer game, and a church meeting. In 2 days' time. Yikes. What else am I forgetting?? I do not know.

So anyway. If you see me, just gently tug a little on my brain strings and pull me back to earth, if you could please. I'd appreciate it.

And if you happen to find my watch lying around somewhere, just get it back to me as quick as you can. Thanks. :)

and yet they do: to be happy #2

It has recently been pointed out to me that you, my faithful blog readers, are only getting a very small view of what my children are really like. It is true. You will never really know everything. It is always a disadvantage of only getting one perspective. And not only do you only see things tinted from my perspective, you only get the fraction of our lives that I happen to feel like posting about. And that fraction often times just happens to be the part that is perhaps more negative, whiny and complaining. You could just say it's in my nature. I have a need to vent - and I crave support and sympathy. And my blog reflects those tendencies in the extreme. If you talked to me in real life, things might appear differently to you. But this is what it is. So please take everything I say with that in mind.

It has struck me lately how little we really know and understand each other anyway. We build our own reality from our perceptions, colored by our emotions and memories. It's such a tricky business - thinking we know someone, thinking we are somehow the same - and we never really are. Even my husband, whom I've been close to now for 16 years (and married for 12), he still does things sometimes that surprise me. And I'm surprised to be surprised by him. And then not only are we continually thwarted in our efforts to really know who someone is, just by the nature of how deeply our selves are rooted, then we are also constantly changing, reevaluating, remaking ourselves in big and small ways. It's amazing to me, actually, that we are able to maintain any close relationships at all - given how complicated we all are.

So, my kids. My point is just that I am getting to know them. Every day I am discovering new things about who they are and who they are becoming. It's a process.

Anyway - so my friend requested a blog post telling you about some of the strengths of my children and the things about them that give me joy. So here you go. Hopefully it gives you just another little glimpse into who they are. By no means comprehensive, of course. :)

1. Abigail - she is a graceful dancer, she writes great stories and poetry and has an incredible imagination, she remembers details from the past that amaze me. She is caring and values her friendships. She loves to perform and be in front of a crowd. She'll write a song for any occasion and even composes on her violin!

2. Isaac - draws intricate mazes and games, responsible and usually obedient, he likes to spend time pacing and "thinking," loves learning all about animals more than anything, he remembers details from things he reads and learns and he's very good at math (he's started in the 5th-6th grade math book in 3rd grade). I love seeing his excitement when he learns a new song on the piano and really enjoys it. (And he looks like a mini-Zac, which of course I love.) :)

3. Samuel - ah, this little boy. He has such energy. He loves to dance, and has great rhythm. He likes to "play" guitar and piano - and loves "rock and roll" music (which to him is anything fast and loud). He is curious about everything and investigates hands-on. He also has the most infectious laugh ever. When he thinks something is funny he'll just laugh and giggle and has a hard time stopping.

4. Elisabeth - she adores her older siblings, she feels things intensely, she loves to be tickled slowly, and she is brave and bold. She loves to sing songs and learns quickly. I love her insistent kisses and cuddles.

Anyway - those are just a few things.

Really, though, it comes down to this quote I was reminded of from The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin (and that's why I've put this post under the To be Happy category),

"In many ways, the happiness of having children falls into the kind of happiness that could be called fog happiness. Fog is elusive. Fog surrounds you and transforms the atmosphere, but when you try to examine it, it vanishes. Fog happiness is the kind of happiness you get from activities that, closely examined, don't really seem to bring much happiness at all - yet somehow they do."

So I know that reading all my complaints and worries and concerns and bemoanings about my children, you may not be able to see at all how they could be bringing joy into my life. It is hard to define and explain how these little bundles of troubles bring happiness. I can't even see it sometimes when I look too closely at all the stresses of my life. These little people running around and wreaking havoc everywhere may not seem to be bringing much happiness to me, if you based your opinion on the things I talk about the most. And yet somehow they do.

They do.