are moving

    A big aspect of this year has been looking for a house.  It has consumed so much of our time and energy and been such an up and down adventure that I forgot that not everyone has been a part of it. That has lead to some surprise from people I love and care about. Although, they should all be glad to have not been a part of the journey that was fraught with tears, hope, disappointment, fights and just so.
much.
fun. 

But finally, FINALLY, I will share with everyone:
     

WE ARE BUILDING A HOUSE!!!

     We are moving because our current house is getting too small.  Jarrad has a job that allows him to work from home.  That is great - he can literally work from home in the middle of the house.  Which is not always the best thing when kids are home for the summer and Daddy needs to get on a conference call- so we want an office for him.  We found that we also needed another toilet - when you have SCI, you basically get a whole bathroom to yourself every other evening and no one else can use it.  We would  like for folks to be able to visit more and that means we need a place for them to stay.  And we wanted someplace that would be easier for both of us as we got older. 
     Is it perfect?  No.  We can't afford perfection.  But we can tweak it as we go.  This is going to be our house, God willing, for the rest of our lives. 
     We are very excited.  We are counting down the days (84) until we close on our new house.  We are praying and crossing our fingers and toes that the current house will sell and for asking price too.
     Come on, wouldn't you want to buy our current house?  You just can't have it till December!

 

 

Current House

New House

  

I don't want to move!

    I spent the past 2 weeks going through stuff under the house.  To my shame, I just bought plastic totes and threw stuff - like smaller plastic totes - into them and shoved the bigger totes under the house.  Cleaning that stuff out left we with 25 (!) empty plastic totes.  They are in the back yard.  Now, all that is under the house is Christmas and fall decorations which I will not get out until we move.  Not sure if I will have the energy to put up a tree but I kind of don't have a choice.
     Everything I pulled out, I asked myself, do I want to move this?  For most of it, it was no.  It is was still very hard to get rid of.  I have a friend who just started teaching art and she took a lot of the fabric and yarn and scrapbook paper.   And the many, many smaller containers that were in the bigger containers!  I am glad that they helped her and it helped me to not feel so bad about getting rid of all the stuff.
      Today, the same friend and her teenagers come over and went in the attics.  Yep.  2 attics.  They are not too big, but boy were they crammed with STUFF!  Boxes of books and memories.  They spent the afternoon going through some of it with us. It was fun to read how in my first years of teaching, I wrote that I was insane and should have gotten a job in a morgue as that would have been so much easier.  Found some old high school photos and looked at Jarrad's high school photos - so cute!
     While we got rid of half the books and a bunch of other things, there is still a lot left.  The idea of moving it and finding a place for it in my clean, empty house is overwhelming.
    I just want to wave my magic wand and make it all disappear.

8 months...

     1 patient realtor
     8 months. 
     4 builders
     a bazillion houses looked at either online or in person
     and much discouragement leads to this:
              WE ARE UNDER CONTRACT FOR A HOUSE!!!
     We had become very discouraged.  We had found countless houses that would have been perfect but, oh, wait - how many steps are on the front porch?  Crap.  Who else do you know that counts the steps of the front porch or looks at the grade of the lawn or the bricks to try to determine how many steps from the garage to the house?  And if we make it to "might be feasible", who else do you know that looks at the tiles in the bathroom trying to calculate if there is enough turn around space for a wheelchair? 
      Me.  I do that.  I did that a lot. Like, a LOT, A lot.
       Oh, and if it did look good, don't think about it too long because within 24 hours, it would be contingent or sometimes SOLD!
      One beautiful day, I turned to Realtor - that bastion of hope and lies- and happened to see a drawing for a house in a neighborhood we liked.  Hmmm.  It was a ranch.  It was in our (new) price range and it was being built. The floor plan looked good . . .  perhaps if we got in now, we could make some changes and it would work? 
     Contact patient realtor. 
     House is a presale- boo. 
     Builder says - but hey, what do you think about this lot and plan?  And tell me what you need.
     Can you hear the angels singing?  'Cause it was a 4th of July Boston concert!
    And yet, we were very apprehensive because of the previous 8 months.
     The previous 8 months consisted of looking at houses that might work but all had remodeling work we needed to do.  One had a sunken floor in the living room that was the center of the house - and the bathrooms were way too small.  Another that really looked promising  - bathroom looked great, we had a solution for entry, there were 4 bedrooms and 3 baths, acre, well, internet but the door to the bathroom was 24 inches.  And the hallways were tight.  Sigh. 
      Then there were the builders we met - OH. MY. WORD.  One told us that he "didn't do these houses" and he "knew what we wanted and would give us what we wanted".  It was odd.  Very odd.  And we decided not to waste Jarrad's time with first visits anymore.  The 2nd was way over the budget that we said we had.  He also didn't give us any of the things that we asked for.  Which was odd because this was a neighborhood that boasted "granite counter tops", "wood flooring",  "custom cabinets" so why were we getting builder grade, linoleum, builder grade cabinets? At a much higher price per square foot then other houses?   They knew what we wanted and how much we had before we ever met too. Yeah, still annoyed by that waste of time.  The 3rd was nice.  He just didn't have anything for us.
    And we became discouraged.  We did some soul searching, some yelling, some crying.   We reconsidered our budget.  We made some compromises in what we wanted (read - cut things out) for what we needed.   We talked about what we were afraid of and made a "prayer" board.  A vision board, if you will, of things to pray for. 
     Which brings us to builder #4.
     With any luck, we will close in December, our current house will sell in a timely fashion. Fingers crossed and prayers said. 

   

and then...

    There is a phrase "they dropped a bomb".  It means to say something so world changing, so explosive that it leaves everyone broken.
    But where is the phrase that means you want to tell people something but don't know how to say it because you can't really start a conversation with it as there is no transition and then you are left with awkwardness because no one knows how to transition away from it?
    That's what this post is.  I have told 5 people.  All wonderful friends and I don't know how to tell or what to say after I receive the genuine emotion.
     I just feel awkward.
     And sad. 
     My mother in law passed late Wednesday.
    I am glad we went to see her last week. It seems so weird that last week, we saw her, talked with her. Hugged her.  I helped her to change one day and she asked me what Jarrad had gotten me for our 8th anniversary (its been 12 years).  I showed her the ear rings and bracelet I was wearing. She said he did well. 
    She was a woman who loved her son.  She spoiled him by making his favorite dishes when she came.  She had a kind heart and couldn't sit still for long.  She always wanted to help - even when I didn't want her too!  She taught me that wearing an apron is always a good idea! She was sociable and knew how to make small talk - I guess that comes with being a minister's wife.  She was always concerned with the comfort of others.  She could be quite stubborn.
     I can't tell you how many times she changed her name but it was a few and I thought that was cool.  I asked her once what her original hair color was  - and she said she couldn't remember!  She always wanted to bake or cook with the kids because that is what she had done with her grandmother.  We didn't always see eye to eye and I am sure that she could be as frustrated with me as I was with her at times.  But we had one very important thing in common, we both loved Jarrad and wanted him to be happy.

   
   She was my husband's mother.  She was my children's Nana.  She will be missed.

How do you get rid of a whale?

    Sometimes, you are faced with a situation.  It seems huge and you don't even know where to begin.  Back after our Disney trip (I need to finish that...), we got news that my mother in law was failing.  We had known that she had been diagnosed with a rare disease - Amyloidosis.  What we didn't know was how quickly it would progress.  What we also didn't know was that Jarrad's company was going to sell his division and that there would be changes in how vacation was doled out.  In short, he had to fight and go above his superior's head in order to get the vacation time that he had put in for long before there was even a hint of a buy out. But that also meant that he went "in the hole" for 3 months. Which meant that he had no vacation time to use to go and see his mom.  I am giving you the short version and it was not pretty.  Why do we have to fight for the "privilege" of being with our families?  You ever see that commercial where the kids are asking for one more day?  It isn't that parents don't want to take one more day, it is because they aren't ALLOWED to!
     But, I am getting off topic.  And if I seem frustrated - I am!

     However, because of the buy out, there was restructuring - yeah! - and Jarrad has a new boss.  This one is a bit more compassionate and seems to have common sense.  This one found out what was going on and said that he was ok if Jarrad did his work in the car or after "normal" business hours (and since they have clients on the west coast, well, normal has a broad definition).  Because of that, we were able to traverse 7 states, 32 driving hours and 10 days in order for Jarrad to see his mom and say good bye.  We combined it with a trip for a family reunion on my side since it would save us a whole 2 hours to leave from PA.
     Huh, that means that it was 36 hours of driving...
     We tried to turn it into a road trip of sorts.  We would drive for about 3 or 4 hours, stop at a museum for an hour or 2 and drive a couple of more hours to a hotel.  Jarrad would stretch out, find and order dinner and the kids and I would unpack.  Get up the next morning and repeat.
     We are now Hilton Honors "Blue" Members!  Only 14 more stays and we upgrade to "Silver".
     Whoo hoo! 
     What did we learn?
     1.  That I need to evaluate my packing system that has worked for the past 4 years because the kids are getting older and can help.
     2.  That road trips aren't as bad as I was dreading if they are broken into chunks.
     3.  That I love my bed.
     4.  That people be crazy when they be driving!
     5.  That I miss my bed.
     6.  That there are some really cool places to stop and visit on the way.
     7.  That we are "cool" Auntie and Uncle.
     8.  I really, really love my bed!
     We tried to be upbeat?  adventurous? about the trip.  Hence the stops to sight see.  But the point of the trip was for Jarrad got to spend time with his mom.  It was hard to see her.  She was tiny to begin with and now, she is smaller still.  Hospice has told my sister in law that the body knows how to die.  There is even a pamphlet.  We know about the cycles of grief and that the cycles don't go in order nor do they end.  We have all this knowledge but the reality is something different.  It comes in waves and sometimes, it leaves a whale on the beach. 

To make matters worse....

    I am angry so instead of eating my feelings, I am going to write them.  I have been thinking over the past couple of days about if I was right to resign.  Maybe I should have waited to see what would have happened that I forgot a simple fact:
   The man removed me from the schedule completely.  With no explanation - not to my manager, not to me - 3 times he told me that there was no position for me.  What other recourse did I have but to go to HR?
     And then we have the meeting and he still never answered the question!  He started in with I was unprofessional and no one wanted to work with me. 
     Now I hear that he found me rude and disruptive in meetings.  He says it was that way from the first time we met and that I was on a personal call (oh the horror!! How dare I take a personal call!) and he was surprised to find me where I was.
    Ah, no.
    1.  He called 30 minutes before closing. He knew I was there.
    2.  He came 5 minutes before closing and yes, I was on the phone trying to get a hold of Jarrad because the kids were supposed to be getting off the bus.
    3.  Jarrad had just got out of the hospital from kidney failure that had him incoherent and was on heavy antibiotics so when he didn't pick up, I was freaking out.  And it was 5 minutes before closing and NO ONE WAS THERE!
    4.  Was not the first time that we had met.  Unless he wants to discount the staff meeting where he introduced himself and then dismissed us or the time he came to tour my home branch but hey, it is all about perspective.
    I will give him that I was "rude" to him.  He did nothing to endear himself to me.  I did tell him that I didn't trust him BECAUSE I did not know him (hint - show up dude and figure out who we are) or what his plan for the library was.  Yes, libraries have vision plans.  Libraries aren't just about books.  He said he had a plan - I waited and got nothing.
      I will give him that I was rude because I am a northerner - what southerners see as rudeness, we see as reserve and frankness. However, I have been given compliments about my friendliness from true southerners so maybe it is just people who come in and move the whole damn kitchen!  Sorry, another speech where he said he wasn't going to move the coffee pot.  It was a metaphor that said he wasn't going to change things; he was going to see how things worked.  He left the coffee pot - he moved the kitchen.  Yeah, I think I had trust issues.
     And yet, all this could have been avoided if he had simply told me why I was off the schedule.  He never did.  And now he is spinning this as I am unprofessional and difficult to work with  and rude.
      When the kids come home and say "Mommy, Daddy, someone said this about me or called me this"  We ask them if that person spoke truth.  They always answer no.  And we tell them then that person lied and the truth will come out.
    Man, it sucks when you have to practice what you preach. 
    Just keep repeating - karma karma karma karma karma karma karma karma

reputation

    When I was an adolescent, I went to sleep away camp.  I loved it.  It was fun.  I am not exactly an outdoorsy person but there is something about sleep away camps that is unique and just a great experience.  One year when I was about 14, there was this boy.  He told the boys in his cabin that we had gone into the woods and I let him touch me.  I found out about it because one of the guys in the cabin told me that this boy said that.  I remember being horrified.  The guy who was my friend told me not to worry.  That the 3 other guys he was talking to laughed at him and told him that would never have happened.
      I learned two things that day:
     1.  That I had the reputation of being an ice queen.
     2.  Reputation matters.
     I have lived in this area for 14 years.  I know who I am - I know my faults.  I like to hear about gossip - it is my soap opera.  I don't keep secrets - too much pressure and I make mistakes and hurt people.  I don't always think before I speak so I hurt people's feelings.  I can come across as unapproachable.  Sometimes I stumble over my words and am not as precise in language as I expect others to be.  Ironic for one who taught English. 
     But I also know my good qualities - I am compassionate. I listen.  I try to help where I can.  I am learning to control my faults.  I am loyal.  I am a good friend.  I do my tasks to the best of my abilities. I am laid back and don't seek the limelight or the accolades of others.  I like knowing if I do a good job (we all do) but I am not going to pout if I don't get a parade.  I know that if you were to ask people in the community, they would only say positive things about me.
    That is why today was hard.  I sat in a meeting today where someone accused me of being difficult to work - I was told that my coworkers said this about me.  I tried not to laugh because I know that they did not.  I am that sure of my reputation.  If anything, they would say I was too chatty when I should just check out books!  I was told that I was unprofessional.  Again, I find that funny.  Again, I am pretty sure that I would be told I chat too much by patrons.   I was told that I created drama.  While I like to listen to far away drama, I mean, come on, I READ, of course I like drama; I certainly don't like to be a part of it.  It is too painful and I have had my share of it.  I am done with being a part of the drama! 
      I sat there and was told that this person had to put up with it for 9 months.  That I - a part time person - bragged to others about how I was making life difficult for the director.  While I am sure of my reputation, I am not sure how I could have made life difficult for someone several pay grades ahead of me. 
      Yes, I did defend myself and admitted to certain parts of his grievances against me.  I did talk to a board member.  Once.  I did not make the director's life miserable - how could I?  WHAT could I have possibly done or said to do that?
     Finally I turned to HR and said that I knew how this was going to go.  It was going to be a case of he said/she said.  And while I am sure that my "said" would be verified, I am also sure that I was a part time employee.  I told HR that HR would be back in this situation again.  That I knew what his recommendation would be and I had to do my part and resign before I was fired.  I just wanted to make sure that my record of what happened would go in his file so that it would add veracity for the next  person that is "difficult" to work with.
     I am sad.  I loved my job.  It was a way for me to make a really small amount of money that allowed us to save for Disney.  It allowed us to pay off hospital bills and let us provide extras for the kids.  It allowed us to not worry about medications that were expensive. It gave us breathing room.  It is not critical that I find another job right now.  It would be difficult to find a job that gave the amount of flexibility that this one did for child care and doctor's visits.  This job was perfect.  The people were great and I worked with books!  AWESOME!
     I am angry that something I loved is being effected by this person.  I had hoped that I could have made a difference and I wouldn't have to give up something I enjoyed.  I know that I have done what I could but it doesn't seem enough because he is still there and who will he turn on next?  I feel helpless and I just don't know what to do now. 

bullies

     We tell our children to stand up to bullies.  We try to protect them from bullies.  And with each generation, there is more to protect them from.  And with every generation, there are new and different ways of the same old bullying.  And somewhere along the line, we think that bullies stay in childhood.  We forget that bullies grow up.  Sometimes, they mature and change their ways and other times they turn into abusers and create new bullies in their image and other times they become more subtle.
     2 years ago, I got the perfect part time job. A job that I loved.  I got a compassionate manager and fantastic co workers.  The pay wasn't much but it was enough to cover extra expenses. 
    And then things changed. 
    A bully was hired.  I call him a bully because that is what he is.  It is subtle.  But the comments made, the phrases are enough that you are left going, huh?  What?  Did he just say what I think he did? 
    Right now, I am not working.  I was on the schedule and in the course of 24 hours, I was off.  All I was told was that there "is no position" for me.  I feel like this is punishment but I am not sure what for.  If I were to guess, it would be because I questioned the director.  I confronted him and he didn't like it.
    I went to HR and reported it and was told that it wasn't punishment. Surprisingly, HR was told the it was to be a reduction of hours.  Hmmm.  They were also told that this was a temporary schedule.  Hmmm.  I don't think HR knows what is going on. I also don't think that the director thought that I would go to HR.  Hmmm.  I do my job; I do it well.  I am polite and friendly.  I do what is asked and more.  I am also not the newest person on staff so . . .
    Apparently, there is supposed to be a meeting next week.  I would like to think that I would get some answers but if it follows the pattern it has before, I won't get anything.  It makes me sad because I know my time at the library is limited.  I know that if I do stay, I will be penalized. It will be subtle but it will happen.  I might be fired just because he can.
     I love my job.  I love the people I work with.  I love the little bit of extra money that allows us to breathe and dream and hope.  I am scared of what will happen.  But this person already bullied 2 others into leaving and I guess I am next.  If I can, hopefully, I can add to the process of getting rid of him because no one deserves to be treated this way. 

2014 Christmas letter

Watching an LSU football game

      Every year, I send out a Christmas letter and card.  Below is this year's.  I am always mindful of my audience and the fact that I am sending this out - and they really can't avoid it.  So I try to be, um, polite.  And since I am usually tired at the end of a day, sometimes, my filter needs to be filtered again.  So, enjoy the letter with some add-ons (in red) and very little filtering!

Dear Family and Friends,                                                    2014

    Wow!  What a year of ups and downs.  I think that the best way to describe 2014 would be to tell the story of our Christmas card/ family pictures.  Our church was updating its directory.  I was so happy because with me working, I feel like our schedule was tight and was wondering when we would have time!  We arrived at the church and Jarrad was getting out of the van just as Emma tripped (over her shoelaces that I had told her to tie 50 million times!!!) and skinned her nose and forehead- blood everywhere!  I got her cleaned up, the photographer told her he would “erase” the marks, and we bribed her with a movie but EVERY SINGLE picture we took then had tears or a “trying really hard” smile.    Not good.  And then my mom suggested we do something like what you have received.  I think it turned out nice. What I wanted to write was how I walked around the corner of the church where I could kick stones and swear because it had been a really BAD week and this wasn't just a cherry on top but the whip cream and nuts.  I heard Jarrad say, "Mommy isn't mad at you; she just needs a few minutes."  Which brought me back to myself and then I was able to be the caring mom that I should have been.

As the "Frog Prince" for a friend

     That is kind of how this year has gone, not according to the carefully laid plans of these mice but in the end, it all seems to work out.   Like:  The heat pump/AC dying.  Yep, there went 8 months of my pay checks (aka House Fund) but we were able to pay for a new unit and we now have a more efficient unit.  You know, it is not easy trying to find the positive in things.  Being paralyzed costs so much!  Every additional expense hurts sometimes.  I know I should be grateful that I have a job that works with our life and helps to provide for some of these things that we want aka "makes life a bit easier for us" as well as need but there are times . . . I am calling 2014 the “Silver Lining Year”.

Waiting for the van is boring! 

       We FINALLY got Jarrad’s van – the kids dubbed it Max – in August.  We are both very happy with it.  He loves the freedom it provides and I love not driving everywhere.  Jarrad has also taken up a new hobby – wood turning.  He is learning about it now but if he follows his previous patterns, he will be an expert in no time (and he is going to read this and say “Don’t say that.”  But I will.)   He introduced the kids to Star Wars this year.  Emma was ambivalent but Sam loved it which made Jarrad so happy! He has bought some Star Wars Legos and when I take Emma to dance, that is how he and Sam sometimes spend their evenings.  He is just so cute!

     Emma has lost many teeth this year.  She has moved from the little girl combo class to the big girl classes in dance.  Her teacher says that she the most responsible girl in her class and everyone’s friend.  There is no doubt, however, that she is my daughter as she is very dramatic in her dance classes and home.  For her birthday this year, she asked to have her ears pierced.  Since she is responsible, that is what we did.  She was prepared for it to hurt and was very happy that it only pinched a little.  I told her we would change her earrings at Christmas and she is very excited about that. I also told her that we are growing out her bangs this year.  It will be horrific in the mean time but it will be one less thing that I have to worry about - cutting those bangs!

      Samuel started kindergarten this year and has expressed a preference for being called “Sammy”.  I, however, find that I call him Samuel more often than not.  He is enjoying school and making lots of new friends. Getting him to do his school work is increasing my gray hair count.  I know he can do it he just doesn't WANT to!  Argh!  So STUBBORN.  I blame Jarrad.   He is also starting basketball.  We have had one practice and he seems to be having a lot of fun as he is learning how to dribble, pass and shoot.  And it is just plain sad.  I have no idea how these games are going to go but I am already cringing -simply because I don't want him to feel defeat.  Now what does that say about me and what I think of my son?  I think he is 5 and has never learned these skills but still... this is the war that every mom has.  Am I doing the right thing?  Yes, no?  AHHHH!

     In August, I went from being a substitute to a permanent member of the library staff.  I am happy to say that I still love my job.  I also love the consistent hours and increase in pay!  We are all learning to balance work and school and home.  There are some days where I don't think I am going to make it.  Especially when I look around my house and wonder if it will ever be clean.  I don't know how full timers do it. I think you just learn to roll with a new schedule - I did it with babies and with wheels but there comes a time when you wonder when do I sleep?  I am thankful for a great boss, understanding coworkers, a wonderful husband (who can drive) and an after school program that my kids love to go to.   I really do have a great support system.  My boss is very understanding.  My co-workers are amazing people and we get along fairly well - I mean, we are human so there is some tension but they are really cool and are part of why I love my job! The after school program is so great!  The kids love going.  And then there are my friends.  I could go on and on about the awesome people that God has put in my life - yes, my atheistic friends, I think God has put you in my life too and you are a blessing to me so there! They are like family - and I have a really good family!  We are so blessed in this regard! 

      In all of these events, there has been something that caused a bit of panic like child care and hospital visits and would we have enough to cover the heat pump and wondering how things were going to work out but God is good because somehow, things have all fallen into place. I am really learning to take it one step at a time!  I am looking forward to a fresh new year!   Hopefully one with less bumps in it! 

                             Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! 

So this is why crying is good

      A couple of weeks ago, I took Emma to get her ears pieced.   She was nervous but determined to do it.  She sat on the seat and I watched as emotions crossed her face - excitement, hesitation, fear and determination. Almost, almost, she said she didn't want to do it.  But then, she chased it away.  I watched as the lady shot a hole in my daughter's ear.  I watched as Emma screwed her face up for the anticipated pain that never came.  Her shock as she said, "It didn't hurt!" and her pleased joy at seeing the flowery studs in her ears.
     And I cried.

     I went with Sam on a field trip to the zoo.  As we walked around looking at the animals and I knew where I was going, I was reminded that the last time I had been here was for Sam's birthday - the week before Jarrad fell 16 feet and severed his spinal cord.
      And I didn't cry.
     I could feel it.  I could feel the panic and the water building but I didn't.  It might seem like a small victory but considering all the times when I couldn't stop crying and desperately wanted to, I think that this is huge.
     We recently received our preliminary house plans for the home that we hope to build someday.  You know, that far off mythical time when we can have a house that we can grow old in?  That place that I am building up in my head as paradise?  That place that might never exist when I am at one of my darkest moments?  Now, I have something that I can hold in my hands.  It is tangible.  It is beautiful (not perfect - yet).  It makes it seem so scarily real.
     And I cried.
     Do you know that there are 3 different kinds of tears?  And that emotional tears are made up of different chemicals than reflex tears which are the kind of tears that protect your eyes from smoke?  The more I learn about the body - even in my bits and pieces research- the more I am amazed at its intricacy.
    As adults, we tend to loose that sense of awe about life.  Maybe that is why we have kids - so that we can experience it again.  Where I work, I get to watch teenagers - good kids - be clueless and innocent and it is refreshing.  I see my own kids laugh and giggle in awe over things that no longer have power to enchant me on their own.  So when I get my own bit of wow on my own, it is pretty cool -like finding out about tears.
      And sometimes, it makes me cry. 

I am old.

    It is 9:30 at night and I am tired.  But I am rebelling at going to sleep at 9:30.  There is something wrong with that idea.  In my head.  I am an adult and adults stay up till 10 - at least.  I guess I am just like Sam who yawns all the while insisting that he is not tired.
     Jarrad is on his side, "deeply breathing".  He is tired.  He is running a low grade fever.  No, no open or angry wounds this time.  I think it is another UTI.  Oh, the joys of paralysis!  I will take a sample to the doctor tomorrow.  I am actually hopeful that that is what it is because it is an "easy" fix.
      He turned 40 yesterday.
     I have always felt that age was just a number.  That it didn't matter how old a person was.  I have to think sometimes about how old I am.  Too many other important things to remember than a number.
      This feels big though.  Momentous.
     We had a get together with friends at a local restaurant.  His sister came to spend the day with him.  He had 2, yes 2 cakes.  Because of a conversation that went like this:
     Me:  Jarrad, do you want me to get H to make a ginger cake or do you want a carrot cake for your birthday?
    Jarrad:  It's my birthday.
    Me:  I know.
    Jarrad:  I am going to be 40.
    Me:  Yes...
   Jarrad:  Why do I have to choose?
     So, he had 2 cakes.
    And a good time.  We went to a restaurant and had lunch with friends.  It was nice.
    U2's newest album is called Songs of Innocence.  It reminds me of Blake's collection of poems by the same title.  The idea that innocence is a lack of knowledge; the opposite of experience.  Neither is of itself bad or good.  It just is.
     And this just is.
    Listen to me, being morose - ish.  We have cake.  Nothing is ever bad when there is cake.
(so this took me over a week to write and post - it's a little late!)

Mistakes

    Last night, I was at work.  About 1/2 hour before closing, in comes this young adult.  She is a student teacher and needed some help finding books for come classes she is teaching.  I asked if she was on pinterest and she told me she was.  If I had been more aware (and less cocky perhaps), I would have picked up on her attitude.  As I was looking for books on her topics, I asked if she had looked at the teacher textbooks and curricula.  Simply because there is a wealth of information in those things and you don't have to reinvent the wheel - which I didn't know when I was student teaching. 
    Again, I was not paying attention to her cues. 
    And the she gave me the 3rd topic - Substance Abuse for 3rd graders. 
    I looked at her with wide eyes.  And then started looking for books. 
    I asked her if she had asked her co-op how to handle parents who had issue with this. 
    And that was my mistake. 
    I should have just looked for the books and handed her list but there were 2 things going through my head.  1.  I have a 2nd grader and am a parent.  2.  I was a teacher and woefully unprepared to handle parents AND teaching things that I personally had problems teaching at certain age groups. 
    She looked at me and told me that was the curriculum and parents would just have to deal with it. 
    Mistake # 2.  I told her that you can't tell parents that.  To which she replied to just give her the list because I was not being helpful. 
    5 minutes later, she left without any books.  She will never come to the library again.  And I will never be able to apologize. 
    I was wrong.  I should have just looked for the books.  I was not professional and I took it personally. So this is my apology to that student teacher.  I am sorry that I made you feel worse about something you already felt conflicted about.  I am sorry I was conceited.  I am sorry I was not helpful and I am sorry that I turned you off to a great resource. 

Last weekend

      Last weekend, I was at the beach.  Just last weekend.  It seems years have passed in between last weekend and this.  And while I don't miss the bed (WHY do hotels have such crappy mattresses?), I do miss the beach.

    Going to the beach was something my family did.  We went every summer.  Jarrad's family went more to the mountains; he has never been a beach guy.  He only ever went because it made me happy.  So he wasn't too disappointed to be on kid watching duty.
     My mom and my sister were coming (happy Mother's Day Mom) but I beat them there by a couple of hours.  The room was ready when I got there and I settled in, changed to sandals and went for a walk.
    There was a big celebration festival that weekend and the booths spread down the sidewalk for as far as I could see.  The sand was soft and warm and there was a gentle, salt kissed breeze as I walked into the water. 
    And breathed.
    The weekend consisted of browsing craft venders, seeing sand sculptures, chatting, swimming in the ocean, seeing fireworks and way too much funnel cake.
    It was  relaxing.  It was nice (despite the bed).  I enjoyed it.  Coming home was hard as I had to jump right into Mommy/wife roll . . . that was a bit jarring.

    Sorry, I just took a moment to remember the sand and the waves and the dolphins.
    Yeah, it was a good thing.

calender year

 


     I never buy a calender in January.  I always wait for the "academic calenders" to come out.  That is when the year starts for me.  As it always has - first in my own primary education, then college, then in my career.  There are the "lost years" where the days and months all blended together in a sleepless blur.
   And then, I started all whole new era of an academic calender with my kids' education.  They started back to school this week.  Emma went on Monday.  She is an old hand at this school business but still wanted me to walk her in.  She knows her hall, the staff - waved hi to different kids.  She knows what is going on.
    Samuel started on Wednesday.  He told me that I could go through the car pool line; he knew where his class was and could walk in by himself.
    I told him that it wasn't for him but for me.  And he gave me a look and said, "Ok Mommy" in a tone that indicated he knew exactly what I meant.
   Sure enough, he knew right where his classroom was, cubby, and table.  Didn't even pause to give me a hug (I got one anyway) and said a casual "Bye Mom" as I left. 
   Wednesday was a surreal day.
   So quiet.  So still.  So. . . not what I am used to.
   I wonder what I will do in a decade or so when I won't need an academic calender as much as I have in the past. 

an aversion of change

   I don't like change.  It bothers me.  I hate making decisions for a group.  I hate it when my schedule changes.  I hate not knowing.  I hate sudden change.  I hate knowing that change is going to happen and waiting for said change to happen.
    Basically, I hate being a grown up. 
    That aside, in the next 3 weeks our lives are getting ready to change.  All of them.  In the next 3 weeks, Jarrad is going to be driving - knock on wood and his work schedule is going to change.  I am going to be starting a new position at the library - part time, more (regular) hours and a slight raise.  Emma already has a change in her dance night and is in a "big" girl class (no more cute tu-tu's and buckle tap shoes!).  She will be going to after school or (hopefully) karate (if it doesn't cost an arm and a leg).  Sam will be starting school (eep!) and after school or karate and HOMEWORK!!!
    And I am scared.
    I am not sure scared is the right word.  Apprehensive?  See, I don't like this waiting period.  This time where there is still stuff to do to get ready and yet, you can't do it.  I don't know how it is all going to work out and no matter how much deep breathes I take or how much prayer I say, I still grab the tail end of my worry and wrap its noose around my neck.
    How is it going to be for Jarrad to drive?  Is he going to be tired?  What is he going to do at the end of the day when he is at the bottom of that 12 foot ramp and I am not home?  Will he pick the kids up from school on time?  Is his boss going to put more demands on him?  He can't sit in his chair for that long. 
    Emma will be fine but will I see her enough?  Will I be too tired to give her the affection she needs?  She is a cuddler and hugger.  She needs that.  Will she be able to handle the longer and harder homework that comes with 2nd grade?
    Am I failing Sam by working?  Does he need me at home to help him?  He doesn't know all of his letters - simply because he doesn't see the need.  Why should he study letters on a page when there are giggets and gaddegts that if he puts together this way does that?   He has his priorities. 
    Am I making the right decision?   Will I be able to juggle the needs and wants of my family with work?  Just because a door is wide open, does it mean that I should walk through or that I have to? I know all that stuff about worry and what it does and Who I should let have it.  The theory is sound but the practice is hard. 
    Why did I want to grow up? 

Update on Jarrad.

    My skills include:
    1.  Changing sheets while someone is in the bed.
    2.  Knowing how to change a wound vac.
    3.  Being able to flush a PICC Line.
    4.  Knowing how to handle a pressure wound.
    5.  Dressing changes
    6.  Multiple ways for taking care of constipation.
     What my skills do NOT include is a medical degree.  But if we keep going at this rate, I just might be able to pass my boards.  I feel like if it could happen to a spinal cord injury, it has happened to us.
1.  Roughly 60% of wheelchair users get carpel tunnel - guess who had carpel tunnel syndrome?
2.  About 20% of SCI patients have hetertopic ossification. And guess what? Yep.
3.  Osteoporosis and broken bones? That's right!
    Jarrad and I were talking and we came to the conclusion that the initial injury is still ongoing BECAUSE of the complications that come as a result of a spinal cord injury.  That makes it hard to say, ok, we got this now.

A new strap and new glasses

    Recently, we had a scare.  I was looking at his leg and one of his smaller incision spots was red and warm.  Not hot, and it blanched but after the last time, we were just scared.  It was nothing and I did some research and took a course of action AND made a doctor visit.  We were so afraid (paranoid) that the doctor was going to send us back to the hospital.  I don't think that Jarrad would have been able to go through the doors.  It would have been too much.  Fortunately, it was a surface infection and we did the right thing but that weekend was rough.
   Now, he no longer has the top of his right femur.  The shattering of the bone due to the unsuccessful surgery and subsequent infections has caused it to be non existent.  The consequence is that he is sitting crooked in his seat.  He is missing bone, after all in one hip, and has too much in the other.  We have tried to remedy this by putting a wedge under the one hip and "tying" him to his chair to help hold him straight but . . . He still leaning and that puts pressure on his spine.  WHICH contributes to his pain. 
    And there is nothing that I can do about it.

    The more I learn about the human body the more I learn that humanity is pitifully ignorant about the human body. 
     At least it isn't just me!  (Always have to find a positive).
    There is so much to learn and I have learned to be wary of doctors who think that all bodies are alike.  Each body is as unique as the soul that inhabits it.  In fact, I don't think that we should discount the soul in diagnosing the body.  I think it plays a large part in the why some things work for some folks but not for others.  But it is hard to study and hard to put into numbers.  Why, WHY do we persist in the idea of uniformity? 
    Sigh. 

It has been a while. . .

     It has been awhile.  I know, almost a month.  A busy one but nothing earth shattering.  So an update is in order.
    1.  Weather - isn't that how one usually starts a discussion?  Weather has been lovely.  But a lot of pollen so when the rains came - hard- it was a relief.  Now, it is starting to warm up.  And the pollen is mostly washed away but I am not giving up on my allergy medications just yet.  I did get my planting done.   A couple of perennials and a bunch more annuals.  Veggies and another blueberry bush.  Now, I need to map out what needs to be moved, trimmed or thinned to do at appropriate times.  Gardening is cathartic.  Weeding is a great way to vent frustrations.  And gardening is a  metaphor in so many ways.

     2.  The van is still  in our driveway.  No one can seem to get a hold of the engineer that is supposed to write up the modifications and send out the bids.  So we wait.  We get to use the van and it is nicer for Jarrad to get in and out of.  But . . . we are still waiting for him to be able to drive it.
    3.  I think - I am not sure - but it seems like we are getting out of a slump.  After surgery, Jarrad lost a lot of strength and endurance.  He is getting it back though.  We can also see the that HO is growing in the right hip.  It is not as bad as the left but not good.  ARUGH! The man kills me!  His pants were getting a bit snug in the waist so he started doing crunches.  Darn man lost the weight and 2 weeks later - pants are now lose! 
    4.  The kids are great.  Dance is done for the year.  The kids are playing outside more - see paragraph 1 - and helped me to do the planting.  They are excited about watching the plants grow.  And going to the beach.  They are so creative.  I love seeing what they come up with as they play.  Although, washing your shirts in the muddy rain water and hanging them on a makeshift clothesline as you play "Little House on The Prairie" . . . Well, at least there is Shout.

"Dragonvale"

    5.  I am working a lot more.  That is good.  It will help pay for the van.  But man, it is hard.  It is hard to juggle dinner, housework, kids, doctor visits and just everything.  I feel like things suffer - mainly housework.  And I am tired.  Good news - I get a paycheck.  And I have been walking.  I tried to walking in the morning.  That doesn't always work out.  So, every night, I walk.  Is it when I want to?  No.  Am I tired?  Yes.  Do I miss some evenings?  Yep.  But that is due to work.  And I am proud of myself for doing it. 
    So, nothing special.  Just ordinary life.  Normal.   

Sick days.

    No, not me.  Today - both boys are sick.  Sam said his tummy wasn't feeling good and while he doesn't have a (high) fever or the dark circles under his eyes, he is sleeping again (8:30 am).  Jarrad has a migraine - work stress induced.  He hasn't been sleeping well and is just so tired.
     And Emma is at school (watch - the phone will ring any minute . . . )
    So either end of my house has sleeping bodies.  And it is so quiet!
    I can hear the clocks tick.
    And I have to be quiet. 
    I have to be still. 
    Hmmm......

 

 

Happy Valentines Day

    I know that Valentines Day is (now) a manufactured holiday.  I still like it.  It happens right when I start to miss the "rush" of Christmas.  All the bright red and pinks contrast nicely against the gloom of gray and white and dull brown.
   So I plan.  I plan a meal of red and hearts.  Usually spaghetti.  I even bought heart shaped pasta from a fund raiser last fall for this very event.  I make Jell-O jigglers (like them better than the regular recipe) and buy strawberries.  I make heart shaped sugar cookies. Even put candles on the table.
    Yep, I like Valentine's Day.
    This year, though, they called and asked if I would come into work (heart work!) until closing.  On Fridays, closing is at 5 so it wouldn't have been a problem at all to come home and boil water, throw the bought salad into a bowl and cut up the Jell-O.  I didn't make the cookies but we have plenty of candy so it was going to be ok.
    At 4:50 I got a text.  "You worked.  I ordered pizza. I love you."  Pasta wouldn't have been a problem at all.  Truly.  But it is something so small that makes me want to cry.  It is these little things that say I was thinking about you and I love you and you are important to me.
    Like:
    "Hey, I know we are both tired and brain dead at the end of the day but I know that family dinner is important to you so I when I saw these child oriented conversation starters, I bought them."
    Or:
    "I made a doctors appointment for you on that day you needed it because I knew you were really busy today but wanted to get it done."
   Ok, so he doesn't say it quite that way.  But what really matter is what I hear -
    I love you. 

More about the library

    I love working at the library.  I have worked for 3 weeks now and have gotten 2 paychecks.  They are not very much but I am excited that I got them.  I feel like I am getting the hang of it.  I know what you are thinking, "What is there to get the hang of?"  Well, computers for one.  A lot of folks come in to use the internet.  We live in a rural county where some folks don't have internet or computers.  We get kids coming in to work on projects. Folks come in to fill out applications or print out forms; usually, they need help to find the forms.  There are always questions about how to do one thing or the other.  A lady came in with her kindle and wanted help downloading a book.  She brought in her cord to use on the computer.
     Her kindle had wireless capability. The book was already on the kindle. 
     Yep.
    At least that was an easy fix.
     We also have a fax machine.  It gets used a lot.
    And there is the checking out of books and DVDs.  Checking in items, shelving, helping folks find books on topics or answering questions about taxes and tutors.
    It is a nice place.  It is quiet.  Generations of conditioning means that everyone is quiet.  And polite.  Well, for the most part.  Rolling your eyes is a quiet sign of sarcasm.  People are friendly and like to chat (with the exception of 2 eye rollers - sorry, I am still new!).  It is a small community so the librarians get to know the regulars.  They like to chat.  And I am new ears.
    One older lady told me that I have a "nice face".  I get my hands patted a lot.  It is nice.
    For me, it acts as pressure release.  I really "get" what my support groups mean when they say that going to work is relaxing.  For me, it is more about the absence of uncertainty.  The questions have answers and if I can't answer them, there is someone else who can.  I don't have any responsibility. No one's health or life is dependent on me.
    It gives me distance too. A chance to think, contemplate, a change of perspective.
   Tonight, I was checking out some books to 2 little girls - I would say about 5 and 8.  One of the books was How to Eat Fried Worms.  I told her that I didn't like the book because it was about worms but I liked how creative the main character got.
    "So you read this book?"
    "Yep, once upon a time, I was your age too."
    Contemplative silence.
    "Wow.  This is a really old book."
    Now, that is perspective.