8 Days...

Eight days that have felt more like 2 weeks. Ugh. Two recovery events have happened in the past two days, maybe three. First, yesterday I had the, "What if this is my new normal?" thought and conversation, with myself in my head. "What if it's not going to get any better than this?" "What if I traded waking up 3+ nights a weeks to twice or triple that?" "What if my healing is not typical and a, b, c, or d end up happening?" Thankfully, two things happened shortly after that unproductive though process (like this past week has been so productive otherwise).
The next recovery event was realizing that I am now able to drink liquids using consecutive swallows, instead of pausing while gasping for breath in between each sip. Phew, an obvious improvement, I am getting back to "normal." The third event, so yes there were three, was realizing that it's only been 8 days. I was looking forward to sitting around and doing nothing while my sister took care of my kids, and my husband took care of me until my mom arrived to take care of us all. The plan was to rest up, enjoy this time off. It's not really time off if I can't do things I like to do during my "time off", like read, catch up on tv shows, hang out, sleep, and eat.
Eat, I can't wait for when I can do that again. First of all, eating all the ice cream you want? Not okay, at least not in the first 5 days. Lovely, bubble burst by receptionist, nurses, doctors, etc... Losing weight? True, though I won't say how much at this point because the plan is to gain it back, as soon as I can eat real food. I'm looking forward to graduating from placing slippery food stuffs in my mouth so that it can slide down my throat and provide me, I'm not sure what, hydration? Once I can eat food that needs to be chewed and swallowed, it may take me the rest of the summer to get through the list of all the food I will be reintroducing to my tonsil free lifestyle.
For now, I will try to remember that it has only been 8 days, and not the two weeks it's felt like. I will be patient and hope that the time to enjoy my "time off" activities is near. I will do my best not to think about all the great food I'm missing out on, even with the holiday and barbecues. And I will look forward to full recovery which I"m hoping will gain me more full nights of sleep and less sickness during the year. Now, I think it's time for another bowl of sherbet!

Parenting is hard.

Parenting is hard. I think it's even hard for parents of "typical" kids, though I wouldn't exactly know. I know we're all exhausted, that's a given, right? Yet because of the idiosyncrasies of my children and the unique challenges they face, it's difficult to give up their care, even to the most well intentioned village, if only for an evening away. We're ever vigilant, always on guard, and yes, definitely over protective.

I also imagine that all parents worry, mine still do and I'm grown with children of my own! But maybe parents of typical kids have a little less to worry about. I know there are commonalities among what parents worry about, I just feel like parents of kids with disabilities have a greater number of those worries at any one time. I'd start a list, but I'd like to maintain some semblance of denial.

I can imagine that raising kids is like a roller coaster ride for most parents. There are enough highs and lows to go around, though I think that parents of "special" kids might be experience higher highs and lower lows. Milestones are not taken for granted or expected, instead they are hoped for and celebrated. We flinch when parents joke about the "agony" of having a mobile toddler to chase around. When our kids can stack 3 blocks we jump up and down, much like a parent might do when their child learns to ride a bike. And a milestone as simple as shoe tying may be something we never witness. I'm actually still waiting for that one, and my boys are 13 and 7. Yes, in the grand scheme of things, not such a big deal, but an example of the little things we don't get to take for granted.

The lows on our roller coaster are followed by loop-d-loops, aka the grief cycle. We grieve for what our kids are not or will not be able to do. We grieve for the future we imagined, then turn to the task of creating a new one. We learn quickly that there really are no guarantees, for reals, no joke, seriously. And though coming to terms with that makes life "easier," we're still sometimes resentful about it.

I'm not sure that I'm doing a good job of articulating what it is that I'm trying to say. The emotions I'm experiencing at this moment come and go, in various degrees and for various reasons. Tonight it's because I, along with a few dozen parents, sat through a 3 hour meeting with the special education directors and superintendent of our school district. The purpose of the meeting was to address parent concerns regarding reorganization of special education services due to budget cuts. 

What this boils down to for me, right now, is that I am faced with making a decision of where Parker will spend first grade. Will he continue in his cluster class? Or will he go to his neighborhood school? We also had to make this decision last year. The question isn't as simple as it may seem, there are several factors to consider. I know it's just first grade, but it might as well be college, that's how the weight of it feels to me. I'm afraid to choose because I don't want to make the wrong choice, if that makes any sense. And it's only in hindsight that I will know if it was the right choice, or more accurately, the better choice. 

So yes, to wrap things up before my venting turns into droning, I believe that my experience might not be too different from what it is now if I was parenting typical kids. And though most parents of typical kids probably don't have over a dozen doctors, therapists, clinics, etc... listed in their contacts, I do know one thing we definitely have in common, love for our children.   

My "Instant Happy" Happiness Tool

Happiness abounds, or does it? For me the answer would be yes! I prefer to live happy, and it is a preference I work on, though not as much as I used to. I've always been optimistic, a resilient sort who views the glass half full. Just as I went from running to becoming a runner, I nurtured my optimism and grew into a full blown optimist. The quiz I took even says so! (LearnedOptimism by Martin E. P. Seligman, PhD)

There have been events, situations and people along the way that have shaped my positive perspective. Most have come in the form of challenges namely my sons and their disabilities as well as my own battle with breast cancer. Others have come in the form of inspiration such as Ellen Degeneres, TeamHoyt and YouTube sensations like Kid President and Arthur, the paratrooper turned yogi .

I also use what I like to call inspirational quotes, aka words of wisdom. Just a few of the right words can give an attitude adjustment in just a few seconds. Just a few of the right words can set the tone in a classroom, opening young minds to endless possibilities. Just a few of the right words can give perspective on life or compassion for the life of another. Just a few of the right words can bolster strength and fortitude in order to accomplish the seemingly impossible.

I would like to share some words of wisdom that summarize how I evolved from being optimistic into being an optimist. In her book Instant Happy, Karen Salmanshon says, “Much of the pain in life comes from having a life plan that you've fallen in love with, but that doesn't work out. Having to find a new life plan hurts. The trick is not to become attached to any particular life plan and to remember that there is always a better, EVEN-HAPPIER life plan out there somewhere.”

It wasn't in the plan to have two children with disabilities, but it happened. It wasn't in the plan to have breast cancer, but it happened. Over the course of a decade, I learned that I cannot count on any plan, best laid, well-intentioned, or fool-proof. What I can count on is my ability to patiently and lovingly embrace any plan as it unfolds in front of me. 

To illustrate, two years ago I put in for a transfer which I would call blind. I was requesting to leave one school, and with that request I had to be okay with ending up wherever they found a spot for me. I didn’t just throw caution to the wind, I threw my hat in the ring, I signed on the dotted line, I was all in. I was a little taken aback at colleagues who were afraid for me. Why be afraid? The new prospective job did not scare a little ol' optimist like me because I knew I was taking me to go do it!

Blurry

I'm not referring to what extreme nearsightedness has done to my eyesight. I'm also not talking about the snowy blizzard that has decreased visibility and increased driving time.I'm commenting on the line dividing 2012 from 2013, a line that appears blurry. The demarcation of time between "then" and "now" has come and gone and little has changed. It's difficult to explain, probably because I don't quite understand it myself.
I don't believe the blur comes from a lack of resolutions. It's not that I'm not big on resolutions, I just set them throughout the year. Though the first of a new year is a great time to start being a number of things (healthier, more responsible, etc...) so is every other day of the year. The new year can be a catalyst or an excuse to wait "until then." People do it all the time, procrastinate action "until then." Maybe it's the revolving door of resolutions that has blurred the years together.
Last year I resolved to celebrate my birthday year, and have figured out a way to make that year equal 15 months. A celebration of my birthday year would include the whole year in which I turned 40 as well as the year counted from my that birthday to the next. Since my birthday is the last day in March, that gave me all of 2012, plus the first three months of this year. It's been a wonderful celebration of life so far, my best year yet!
Since my 5 year breast cancer survivorship coincided with my turning 40, I also resolved to celebrate just being alive. My gratefulness led me to take my running to a different kind of level and run a race for each of my 40 years, from one birthday to the next. I'm 75% of the way finished. I completed two 5k races on New Years Day, bringing my current total to 30. I'm registered for 7 races, have another couple picked out, and am looking for one more. Check out my tentative schedule and feel free to join me.
I also had one other resolution, more of a wish, a birthday wish. What do you get a girl who has more than enough wants and is fortunate enough to need for very little? Tickets to the Ellen show! That's right! It took  work, faith and patience, but all totally worth it. I can't wait to share my upcoming experience with you!
I'm not complaining about the blur. It's not the where-did-the-time-go blur. It's an everyday-is-a-celebration kind of blur. Each day really is special, enjoy it, and the next and the next and the next.

Mom, Mommy, Mother...

As the beginning of the new school year approaches, and I prepare to return to work, I must reflect on an age old argument. And by reflect on, I of course mean to get on my soap box about. Sorry, but I must vent, just a little.
Let's start with a question: When your kids address you, do they call you "Stay-at-Home Mom" or "Working Mom?" I think not, so why do we do that to each other? We're all moms, right? Stay-at-moms work hard and working moms don't love their any children less.
The saddest thing about these assumptions and others regarding different types of moms, is that they mostly come from moms and are directed to other moms. We are harder on each other than our children and spouses could ever be.
Being a mom is not easy, no matter the forum or circumstances. I have been fortunate enough to experience both sides, working during the school year and staying at home for summers. Motherhood is a tough, 24/7, tiring and rewarding job for ALL mothers.
Let's end with a question: Why aren't we more supportive of each other in this challenging yet magical endeavor?

Live and Let Live

This started as a status post on fb, but as it grew in length I decided that I really needed to blog about it instead. The catalyst for this post is the Chick-fil-A hubbub flying around the net. I've been bothered by the back and forth hurtling of meanness and the way that some are using the First Amendment as justification that it's okay to say what you want. To a certain extent I agree and am grateful we have the rights defined in the First Amendment. But what was it that we were always taught? Our rights end where another's begins? So my right to swing my fist ends at the tip of your nose, that's the gist anyway. Maybe that's childish simplicity, but that seems to be the MO of the "debate" happening over Chick-fil-A, childish.
Again, I am grateful for my First Amendment rights, but the extent to which I agree ends when people put action behind those words. In my view, Chick-fil-A has done more than just aired their opinions of prejudice, they have become discriminators by acting on that prejudice to support the limitation of the rights and freedoms of others. Interesting how First Amendment rights are being used in an attempt to suppress rights.
Many of us lead a life of privilege where we rarely, if ever question any of our rights because we're never challenged in that way. I include my self in that group, and have referred to myself as just another all American girl, minus the blue eyes and blond hair. But I also include myself in another group, actually several groups, that have experienced discrimination. My first experiences with prejudice and discrimination happened as a child, growing up in an almost exclusively white small town with a predominant religious influence. I was not white and I was not of the predominant religion, and everyone knew it.
I have continued to personally experience racial/ethnic discrimination in different forms until this day, mostly subtle though sometimes shockingly overt. I regularly observe others that are discriminated against for the same reason. I've also experienced gender discrimination, as I'm sure is not uncommon among women. I've even experienced some ageism. Being viewed as younger may not seem like a negative thing unless it's used as professional prejudice. I've also learned a lot about the injustices that people with disabilities face, with my children as my teachers.
Anyway, I don't want to be preachy or seem high and mighty on my soap box. I just want you to take a moment to consider if something of importance to you was held hostage. If your ability to interact with something you believed in was limited or non-existent, or in fact, against the law. How would that make you feel as a human being? Do you want to be responsible for creating that feeling in others?

Whoosh...

That’s the sound of summer, flying by my pleading eyes, arms madly waving, and shouts of “Wait! Slow down! I love you!” I love you? Whoa, summer isn’t even my favorite season! But, as I’m sure you would agree, it’s a seductive one. Summer is coy, luring you in after a wet and rainy Spring. Then it moves into the more serious business of drugging you with infusions of Vitamin D. It wraps you in warmth and laziness then renders you delirious with record high temps. 

Chasing the sun around the yard.

I am more than halfway through summer. Sadly, summer has a beginning and end, even more delineated for those of us who teach. I’ve always had fun summers (minus one: chemo treatments), but this one has been especially enjoyable. I can’t put my finger on it, probably because I’d need more than the fingers I have on two hands to pinpoint all that has contributed to the season so far.

Luckily, it’s not over yet. There’s still about four weeks left. A lot can happen in four weeks, as a lot did happen in six. And if I play it right, summer doesn’t have to end when work begins. Last year I enjoyed a little summer in October, boating in Lake Powell. And if summer decides to exit early, or if going back to work gets in the way, I’ll just fall in love with Fall. 

Pinterest

Catalyst or crusher of productivity? Creative inspiration or intimidation?  Time-saving or a time-suck?Feelings of success or Economical and cheap ideas or an excessive and capitalistic influence?

I've been pinning for a few months now, and other than the quotes I use with my students, I have only completed 2 pinned projects. The first project were the bookmarks I made my AVID students for Valentines Day. The second project I did just today. It was a combo project, with ideas from more than one source. The Pinterest inspiration is on the right. I paired that with a system I saw in use at the US Post Office, and voila, an calendar command center!


That's it! That's the entirety of my Pinterest glory. 800 pins and this is what I have to show for it. I haven't even tried making any of the Yummy! recipes pinned on that board. The smart ideas on the Too School for Cool board, have yet to make it to school. As for Bookilicious, should have spent that time actually reading books!

Time, ugh, I don't want to even think of the time I "wasted" on Pinterest. At this point in time, for me anyway, Pinterest has been a productivity crusher and time-suck more than anything. A smallish percentage of time "wasted" on Pinterest has been a welcome diversion, or a space filler, but mostly just a true waste of time. Maybe if I'd been cooking those meals, or applying the workouts, or cleverly decorating for the holidays.... Sigh.... nope, nope and nope.


I could let all of the "greatness" that I see on Pinterest make me feel less than great for not being able to achieve it all. But I won't. I could blog about how it may be doing us more harm than good, creating desires that may create unhappiness. But I won't. There are advantages and downfalls in just about everything we encounter in life, it's that awareness that helps us maintain balance. So, I will continue "wasting" time on Pinterest and gain a few tips here and there to enhance my already great life!

  

Kellie "Like"

Sunday morning Clint says to me, "You're not being very Kellie-like," followed with, "What happened to go with the flow?"
Kellie "like." Hmmmm.  What exactly does that mean? It means something different now than it did 10 years ago. And though Clint was applying it to a couple of specific situations, it really applies to most aspects of my life. I don't believe I'm a different person per se, just that I think differently. Here's what I mean:
Kellie-like then meant a plethora of wrist watches and Franklin planners. Now it means NEVER wearing a watch, losing track of time and managing my calendar instead of my calendar managing me.
It meant believing that things happened for a reason and now believing that good and bad things happen and you make reason from it, as you choose, for better or worse.
It meant being more cynical and suspicious while now I can't help but give everyone the benefit of the doubt and believe good can be found in every person, often to the point of naivete.
It meant not wanting company because the house was a mess and now it means not wanting to miss out on company even if the house is a mess.
It meant getting by on being deceptively fit, and now it means being a runner.
It meant files, ledgers and balancing the checkbook, and now it means that Clint is bewildered as to why Directv won't let him order the fights because the bill hasn't been paid. (Thank goodness he opened the one that threatened to shut off our power!)
It meant being the go-to-girl for graduate school projects and organization to becoming the girl that was going to everyone else for due dates, instructions, and follow-through.
It meant getting from point A to point B without any variation and now it means we might stop for an overnight stay along the way to our destination. No hurries, no worries.
I'm sure there are things that have been more constant over time, only those of you have known me before, after and during truly know. I personally feel that I've evolved more than I've actually changed, that some tendies were suppressed while others became more enhanced.

Most importantly it means moving along a continuum from judgement to more compassion, from making assumptions to taking the time to know and from taking things personally to realizing that it's so much more than just about me.  

Which is why I went with the flow and gave in on getting a family dog, then topped it off with a Kellie-like thing and insisted we get two! More on our new families will be posted soon!

 

Learn Something New Everyday!

I actually don't see how you couldn't do this. Instead of making it a point to learn something new everyday, I think you'd have to make a point of stopping yourself from learning something new. I'm not only considering academics or book learning, but also career knowledge (which for me happens to be a lot of academics and book learning), social, political and pop culture, personal life lessons, intended and unintended, and the list could go on and on.
Here are three new things I learned yesterday:

At work, with the help of a colleague, I learned more about My Access. I learned how to import students, set up groups and assign a prompt. The day before, with the help of another colleague, I learned how to use the student results to know what types of lessons/teaching I should focus on. End result: I will learn more about what my students know and also learn what to do to help them learn more! Win win!

At a social function with friends, I learned that kids only have to be "shielded" from seeing alcohol depending on the type of liquor license you have. I'm surprised that parents aren't given some sort of partition to place around the alcoholic beverages on their table to keep their children "unaware." Speaking of children and alcohol, here's a previous post about Porter playing "bar." I already knew that Utah's liquor laws were a little quirky, but I learned last night that they are actually totally absurd. For example, you can't "travel" with your beverage, meaning that if you are at one table and move to another with your drink, then set it down, you've broken the law. And that it takes two people to order a pitcher of beer, but one person can order an entire bottle of wine AND a shot of tequila and be served both at the same time because that is considered only two drinks.

My awesome friend Vickie also tried to teach us the proper way to take a great picture, as in pose for a picture. Something like sit up straight, one shoulder down, chin towards that shoulder, head tilted to opposite shoulder, chest out, and something about creating an S? Still learning.

One last thing I learned from Instagram is that KPop is all the rage, or will be all the rage. Basically it's VERY popular Korean pop music by Korean girl and boy bands. Feel free to check it out!

PHEW! I wonder what new things I'll learn today? Tomorrow? Next week? Next year?

Another "R" Word

Here's another "R" word I don't particularly care to hear, RETARDED. Unfortunately it's a word I hear daily and often multiple times in a day. Mind you, I do work with teenagers, but they are not the only offenders.
This isn't a word I came to dislike as a result of having Parker, and I don't even doubt that I have also used this word many times in the past.
Pre-Parker, I would gently admonish my students by telling them that "retarded" people, people who could not help being born with a mental disability or people who were impacted through an accident, don't really have much of a choice about their mental abilities. What they really meant was "stupid" or "dumb." I know, I know, not much better and still name calling, but stupid can be attributed to any person or group while retarded conjures up images of a specific group of people who have intellectual and physical disabilities.
Post-Parker, I still gently admonish and then throw in that my own son has an intellectual disability and that I personally take offense to the use of that word. Most often I get a wide-eyed look of shock followed by an apology which often times included something like, "Well, I didn't mean him."
That's why I love this little PSA from Lauren Potter who plays Becky on GLEE. How many other words do people use with the caveat of "I didn't mean 'him,' or 'her,' or 'them.'" There have been occasions during my life in which people have disparaged Asians during their conversations with me. When I point this out, they say, "I didn't mean you." Is that because I'm only half? Or because they just see me as American? Then who did they mean? My mother?
Name calling with words that are used as labels for specific groups of people is hurtful, insensitive, and off-putting. I would include "gay" in this category as well as "girl." Using "gay" as an interchangeable adjective for "stupid" is, well, stupid. They are not interchangeable and insinuate that being gay is a bad thing. I also object to the insinuation that being a girl is a bad thing with comments such as, "Don't scream like a girl," "You're acting like a girl," "You throw like a girl."
So there you have it, my Sunday Soapbox.

"R" Words

Last week, I heard an "R" word that I really don't like. Hearing it causes a slight pause, internal cringing, and a little sadness. I went to urgent care for a sinus  infection, and though it is the facility we often visit, the particular provider that day was one that none of us had ever seen before. It's just so much easier to deal with someone who is somewhat familiar with our health situations. I don't particularly enjoy giving the rundown of the past 4+ years, answering additional questions, and then receiving reactions that range from pity to incredulity.

After the initial glance through my chart, assessment of current reasons for being there, and some clarifications she asked the question, "So you're in REMISSION?" Ugh, I hate that word, and for the record I don't hear it often, not even from my oncologist. I don't want to answer that specific question and my answer, when I've had to give it, has been more of an awkward and uncomfortable, "ah huh" with head nodding. But the answer that is in my heart trying to leap through my throat is, "No, I'm CURED!" Cured is a freeing, light, and energizing word that propels me into an active life full of the future and a birthday at 93. Remission is word that is like quicksand, sucking down my body and burying my dreams.

Thank goodness I see this sign around town on billboards and buses almost daily:

Playoff Osmosis

I'm a sports fan by osmosis. It's part of my life because it's a part of Clint's and Porter's life, oh, and my BFF too. It's not that I don't enjoy sports, its that I don't prefer them. I do enjoy them, live. We've been to four NFL games to watch the Patriots play. Every game was more than fun to watch and every trip was a blast. I've enjoyed the numerous Jazz games I've been to and the occasional baseball game. I love U games, especially when tailgating is involved. I even like school games and matches. I guess I'm more a fan of the goings on around the actual game of whatever sport it might be, the social aspect. I'm sure I talk way too much during the event to be consider a true sports enthusiast.
I've been slightly more interested in this NFL playoff season for various reasons. One, the Patriots are doing well. That's always a good thing at our house. Porter was surprised that Clint had people over to the house for the game against Denver on Saturday. Clint feigned innocence as Porter explained that it would be embarrassing if Clint said bad words like, "Stupid and beeeeep, beeeeep." Porter actually said beep, not the swear words the beeps were intending to mask. It is a it of a worry, but luckily it was a total blow out in the Patriots favor, so we were saved from apologies.
The Saints lost to the Niners, as I'm sure everyone else already knows. I was torn as to who I wanted to win. Alex Smith, the quarterback for the Niners, played at Utah but Ellen likes the Saints. When Porter found out the reason for my confusion he said, "Really mom? Really?" Yes, really. I was once a Dolphins fan because I like dolphins, so there. I did know that I wanted the Ravens to win their game, though that would mean they would be playing the Patriots next week. Haloti Ngata is a former student of mine. In eighth grade he went by Harold. I remember him as a big, friendly kid with great manners.
Sports, whether it be the NBA, NFL, ESPN, NCAA, will always be a part of my life because that's what families do, share a life! (and Clint thinks I'm the one associated with annoying acronyms, ha!)
P.S. Tim Tebow is an extraordinary person. Check him out! The Tim Tebow Foundation

With You? Or In The Bag?

A phrase that has become as common place as, "Plastic or paper?" I'm trying to remember when that even started, the receipt question. I remember when paper grocery sacks were replaced by plastic ones, only to then find themselves in competition when the papers one returned. Now there are the even more environmentally friendly reusable bags. I don't remember when the receipt question began. Maybe it's always been around? I worked retail during high school, and I don't remember giving people a choice, the receipt went in the bag. It's possible that a lawsuit somewhere was the catalyst for the change, who knows.

The post title and opening statement were prompted by a little excursion to the mall. I finally made it to H&M. I never expected there would be one here and had resigned myself to shopping there annually. When I was SO excited when I found out there really was going to be an H&M in Utah, and even better, it was going to be at Fashion Place, right in my hood!
It's been open a few months but I have kind of been waiting. Waiting for what? Waiting for time to really shop. I can't do H&M like I do Old Navy, with a quick walk-through and cursory glances and/or with my kids in tow. I need  to not feel rushed so that I can really look around when I go into an H&M which means no kids.
They opened their doors mid-November, right during the gear-up of the pre-holiday rush. I barely shopped for others during this time, shopping for myself would have seemed very selfish. Had I known then what I found out tonight, that this particular H&M has a children's section, I could have easily killed two birds with one stone. Oh well, what's past is past.

So, was I disappointed? Not really, and I wasn't extremely impressed either. I am glad we have one and will enjoy shopping there, I just felt a bit overwhelmed when I first walked in. I was greeted by racks and racks of sale items. I like sale items, I just hate going through sale racks. The clothes are crammed together, my size is usually gone though there are plenty of too small and also too big, and the racks are too close together. I wasn't able to fully get over the little bit of anxiety I felt before another situation started, and then continued, to annoyed me. I think it can be best illustrated with the text conversation between me and my friend Ami:

Me: Finally headed to h & m. Lots of orange at jcrew
Me: Huge store huge sale. Hate it when someone is looking close to me when I was here first! (like barely more than a foot away from me)
Ami: I hate that so bad!!! I am jelly!!! Find something cute!!!
Me: OMG. Someone is trying to look below me! WTF. It's not that crowded. We will take tues parking (school thing)
Ami: Ok sounds good! What the hell people!
Me: Just happened AGAIN! Next person gets PUNCHED!
Ami: WOW! I am surprised by this language!
Me: It's like I'm invisible! Rude people suck.
Ami: Seriously!

I'm still a little confused about the stalker shoppers. I've NEVER had that happen to me before, at least not without at least an "Excuse me please." Whatever, I'm over it now. Besides, I did get a few cute tops, I am happy they are here, and I'm looking forward to going back!
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Reality Check

I don't often write posts like the one I'm about to write very often. In fact, long periods of "silence" from me on the blogging front usually signal challenging times. Not writing at times like these is part of a three prong philosophy:

• giving a voice to difficulties puts a focus right where it will only make hard things harder 
• being optimistic puts energy on what's so great about life which is intended to then create an avalanche affect of goodness (I'll admit, this can also be a form of denial; "blanketing" that which must not be named)
• doing what we can with what we have by looking for using various resources (usually medically related) give us some answers and guidance with our non-typical children

Though these challenging and difficult situations often create frustration, anger, anxiety and confusion the true emotion underlying them all is heartbreak. This extends to all parents, not just parents of children with disabilities or unique struggles. All parents have their hearts pierced from time to time as they watch their children navigate growth, development, and milestones. We hurt when they're left out, when they "lose," and when they're sick. We even find ourselves wishing we could trade places with them at times to absorb their pain and shield them from misery. I have never felt the need to do that more than I do tonight, right now in this moment.  

Porter watched himself on a "video" that was taken this afternoon. How that situation came about would have been great material for a more humorous blog, but the result was anything but. Long story short, he gained a whole new perspective of himself. "I thought I was a normal boy. Why do I do that? See, there. I keep doing it?" He's referring to his "flapping." He's done it for as long as I can remember. It happens a lot when he's excited, overstimulated, emotional, etc... I told him that he does it all the time and asked if he really didn't know he was doing it. He said he really didn't, and I believe him. "I wish I was a normal boy." "Why don't my muscles work?" "What's wrong with my throat?" "I'm so disappointed in myself." "My future is ruined." "I don't like me."
My pain for his pain is tearing up my heart.

This is my parental reality. We've done a lot for Porter and he's an amazing, resilient, and persistent kid. It is definitely not normal to hear him talking this way. I am his parent, protector, and guardian. In many instances I know I could have and should have done more, but we can only move forward and look toward the future.  So now, instead of avoiding the negative and sugar coating with the positive, I will direct my energies to prong three: pursuing answers and resources that will help Porter be the person he wants to be. 

Just a few minutes ago, after a pep talk from his dad, we hear, "I love you dad. I love you mom. I'm not going to give up." And neither am I (though I think I am going to cry myself to sleep, just this once).

Celebrate!

Some people celebrate their birthday on their birthday, or a bit before, maybe even a little after. Another popular option is having a birthday week. There may even be a few that extend that to a month, or have "half" birthdays, which are especially popular with children who have summer birthdays. I've decided that I will be celebrating the entire year of my 40th birthday.
Technically, my 40th year of life began when I turned 39. And it might be more exact to celebrate a year starting from the time I actually have my 40th birthday. But since I was born in 1972, which was forty years ago, then I'm going to celebrate all of 2012, and then some. Though it is a "Me Party," it wouldn't really be a celebration without wonderful people to share it with! I hope you'll follow me along on my mid-life journey and all the celebrations of this extra special year. Cheers!

Back to Blogging

I guess it’s a resolution of sorts. It’s also therapeutic, a way for me to organize my thoughts. Selfish? Sure, what blog isn’t? Throw in boastful, gotta tell the world about these amazing boys I’ve been given. It’s a learning tool and allows me to be reflective about what I’m doing here (that would be the teacher part of me chiming in). It allows for creativity! I get to write, design, be a little techie and artsy, etc… But best of all, it gives me a chance to connect with people.
Go ahead and give it a looky loo. I’ve changed it up (design), and figured how to do that by myself! (techy + learning) I went back through and reviewed my older posts (reflective) and updated the links and such (techy). I’ve coordinated my social media (techy + people). It’s definitely a work in progress, as is life! I hope you’ll enjoy the journey as much as I do! CHEERS to 2012!

February 20, 2011 "You're Not My Mom!"

Porter totally called me out for bad behavior last night. I signed the boys up for UFit, an activity program at the U that pairs up kids that have disabilities with an individual volunteer. Last night was the first night and the building we needed to get to is just north of the Hunstman Center.  Upon entering the parking lot I intended to park in, I was greeted by one of four attendants who informed me that there was a gymnastics meet and I needed to be a blah blah blah member or have a blah blah blah pass in order to park there. I quickly explained that I was actually there to attend a program for my kids. He asked if I was just dropping them off, and in hindsight I should have answered yes and then stolen a parking space after they let me in. Instead, I told him that I needed to go in with them to verify registration, complete a parent interview and meet their partners.  “Well, then you’ll have to park in the next lot over.”

Ugh. Really? And then a conversation ensued that went something like, “This is ridiculous. I paid for them to participate in this program and I can’t park here?” “That’s right, only blah blah blah members or a blah blah blah pass will work.” “Tonight is the first night, I wasn’t informed that there would be an event here. I was told I would be able to park here.” “Then I suggest you mention that to the program directors.” “I have a four year old in here. You expect me to walk him across campus?” “Unless you have a blah blah blah pass or are a blah blah blah member, then yes, that’s what you’ll have to do.” By this point I’m not quite yelling, but my voice is raised, I’m frustrated, and obviously not happy.

I take a breath, give up for a moment and let him start giving me directions to another lot.  I’m trying to clarify, because I don’t want to be driving around campus lost. The next thing I know, another of the four attendants approaches my window and says, “Mam’ you need to leave now.” To which I reply sternly, “I’m trying to figure where I’m supposed to park.” “Oh, are you telling her?” he says to the first attendant. So after I get the directions, I leave, heated and in a hurry. That’s the gist of what happened anyway.

Porter says, “Mom, what’s wrong? You never get that mad. Why were you so mad?” “I’m mad because I wasn’t planning on not being able to park there. The building we need is just right there, now we have to go park somewhere else.” “But you never get that mad.” Then Porter started to get upset and continued to be confused by my behavior. By the time we reached the parking lot, he was shouting, “You’re not my mom!” and on the verge of tears. I parked and told him to get out of the car as I grabbed Parker and then we all started walking. “You’re not my mom!” and then he reached up to me, put his hands around my neck and pulled, but my head not detaching wasn’t proof enough. “Where was I born?” “In West Jordan.” “What hospital?” “Jordan Valley.” “You’re my mom, but why were you being such a brat? ‘I have a four year old in here.’ Why did you say that?”

That’s when I felt a huge mix of emotions, a little embarrassed and ashamed that I behaved in a way that upset and disturbed Porter, yet proud that the actions were so out of character with how he really sees me that I must really be a pretty patient, calm and kind person. In fact, viewed by an outsider, I probably did look like a brat, an entitled adult diva throwing a fit and trying to get her way. And I must give credit to the attendant, because he totally kept his cool, even smiling throughout as he repeated my one and only option as he attempted to direct me elsewhere.  If he hadn’t, the conversation would have escalated and then I would have seemed as mean or cruel to others as I did to Porter.

July 19, 2010 "High School Reunion"

I just had a great time catching up with old friends. Some I’ve known since elementary school, others I met in junior high. There were those I didn’t get to know until my senior year in high school, and a few I got to know better at my ten year high school reunion. There was even someone I didn’t know I went to school with that I met over the weekend. I’m sure it’s not hard to figure out that I was at my high school reunion, the 20 year to be exact. A lot of disbelief surrounds the event. The most obvious being that we cannot seriously be 20 years older already. But here we find ourselves, 20 years later, a group of people once bound together by our birthdates, addresses and high school continuing to connect with one another in old and new ways. I saw many former classmates I was hoping to see, but there were many more I would have also loved to catch up with. What a fantastic group of people we shared our childhood with. What varied and fascinating lives we have led over the past 20 years. What amazing perspectives we have to offer one another. How easily we picked up where we left off to enjoy our friendships once again. So does that really mean that the more things change the more they stay the same?

Change is an interesting thing. There were those with noticeable physical changes and those with seemingly none (Nikki who I’m sure could enroll in high school today and nobody would bat an eye, as well as our own Dick Clark, Chris Wright). Physical changes are sometimes hard to take, whether it is a more soft or doughy body, weight gain, scars from injuries or surgeries, wrinkles around the eyes, lack of hair, hair color, the effects of disease, the list could go on and on. There are also changes that are less obvious but impact our lives none the less: occupational changes; living arrangements and locations; births and untimely deaths of spouses, children, even parents; marriages, divorces, remarriages; and again, another list that could go on and on as well. Things are changing all the time, yet many are resistant to or afraid of it. Well, we’ve definitely changed since high school, and we have all definitely survived it.
I made a decision not to long ago to do more than accept change but to embrace it. For me it’s really the only thing that I can count on which sounds a little like an oxymoron, counting on something is in a continual state of flux. In a way I guess that means that I also don’t count on anything, at least not to the extent that my life will be “ruined” if a situation doesn’t turn out how I thought it would. There is a lot in my life I didn’t expect to happen to me like having children with disabilities or getting cancer at 34 years old. I saw many classmates who also didn’t expect things to happen to them like divorce, disease, unemployment, and loss of loved ones. But more than the challenges, I saw the resilience. It fed my soul to know I was not alone in experiencing some of the more difficult things life has to dish out, but also that I am not alone in choosing to learn from and enrich my life with those experiences. I felt the positive energy of people all around, living the life unfolding in front of them, making the best of some not so great situations. Thank you all for your incredible examples!

December 15, 2009 "Lucky Choices"

“ …but she no longer believed in luck, good or bad. People made choices and lived with the consequences. Through the years she had discovered that some people had certain advantages that allowed them to escape the worst consequences of their bad decisions, but she wouldn’t call that luck. If she did, she would have to wonder why good luck and bad had not been distributed more equitably, and dwelling upon that was the quickest route to bitterness.”

That’s a quote from the book I’m currently reading, Circle of Quilters. I read that page last night, and it hit a nerve. People often tell me that they admire me for the manner in which I’ve handled all life has thrown my way. That I’m an inspiration for having such an optimistic attitude in spite of the challenges I’ve faced. My response is usually to say that I don’t really see myself as being much different than others, most people just haven’t been given the opportunity to exhibit their strengths in the way I have.

But then again, though I’m not sure that I’d qualify my children and cancer as consequences of bad decisions, I would definitely agree that people live with the consequences of their choices. For me, I choose to live life as an optimist, the consequence being and enjoyment of life. I guess I could have just as easily chosen to feel like a victim, leading me instead to that “route to bitterness.”

There is one situation that sets me on that path to bitterness, or down the “Why me?” road. This time it happened on Saturday at the mall.  It has happened at the zoo, at school functions, parades, and theme parks, really anywhere that families gather. I was patiently waiting for someone to check another store when I was asked once again if I needed help. After I told the salesperson that I was already being helped, he turned his attention to a mother pushing a stroller to see if there was something she needed. She said that she was just following her son through the store. That’s when I noticed that she had a total of 6 kids, from teens to toddlers. They were a cute family, all seemingly healthy, and well behaved, though I am obviously just assuming all of this.

That’s what sets me off on the, “Six kids? Six typical, normal, healthy kids? How is that even possible?” That is just so the opposite of my reality. And honestly, for a moment I am envious, angry, sad, tired, resentful, and bitter. But only for a moment, because no matter what, dwelling in someone else’s reality isn’t going to allow me to live in and celebrate the beautiful reality that is mine.