I am thankful

This was meant to be my Thanksgiving post... Better late than never?


Parenting is difficult. It's challenging and it's frustrating but it has it's many rewards too. We often wonder if we are doing right by our children. Too much discipline? Not enough? Too many "things" in life, not enough giving to others? Are we instilling good work ethic? (Our kids would answer "YES! enough with the chores!" on this one). We want our children to respect themselves & others. We want them to be polite & kind-hearted. We want them to be true to themselves. We want them to love & trust. We want the world for them...

It's not all rainbows & sunshine, but when there are rewards they are plentiful! Through the school, we made a small donation of goods to Super Storm Sandy victims in each of our children's names. We asked each of them to write a letter, in their own words, of comfort & support to these victims & their families... Our children surpassed my expectations with their kind & comforting words.

I am THANKFUL this year first for our good health but most of all for our 4 children who are clearly learning the path through life with all of the qualities we hoped they would...kindness, compassion and respect, just to name a few. Our parenting job won't be finished anytime soon, but I do believe we are on the right path too!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO YOU & YOUR FAMILY FROM ALL OF US!


Jody

I've come to realize...

This is one of those "copy and paste" jobs that was popular on Facebook a few years back. It might still be popular amongst the younger crowd. I'm lucky I have time to sit here and write this blog from time to time, so I don't partake anymore. But I like this one. It was archived in my Facebook account. Read, enjoy, then copy and paste ;)

1.  I've come to realize that my first kiss...was compared to every kiss thereafter, damn he was a good kisser!

2. I am listening to... my computer humming.

3.  I talk... to myself a lot.

4.  I love... the sun.

5.  My best friends... are my neighbors.

6.  Real love is... me and Tommy without a doubt!

7.  Marriage is... the same as dating Tommy for 21 years but with legal documents.

8.  Somewhere, someone is thinking... "OH SHIT!"

9.  I'll always be grateful for... my mother's good advice

10.  the last time I really cried was because... the vet and I agree Max doesn't have much longer :(

11.  My cell phone... is annoying. If my husband didn't insist I have one, I wouldn't!

12.  When I wake up in the morning... I think, "I hate morning."

13.  Before I go to bed... I kiss my sleeping babies

14.  Right now I am thinking about... having some ice cream.

15.  Babies are... an indescribable blessing.

16.  I get on Facebook... to avoid doing something useful.

17.  Today I... had my usual Thursday "just for me" day. God bless my mother-in-law.

18. Tomorrow I will be... weighed in for the Biggest Loser with my neighbors and I will "win" (this isn't good people!)

19.  I really want to... accomplish so much more in my life.

20.  Someone that will most likely repost this is/are... avoiding doing something useful also!

Happy Halloween....Indeed!

We didn't exactly celebrate Halloween in the traditional sense this year. Catastrophic Hurricane Sandy took care of that. But we haven't celebrated Halloween at all for the past 2 years...


For the first time in my 38 years of life, Halloween was postponed. Yes, you heard me right, postponed. Well, Halloween itself was not postponed, it has it's own birthday. But the Trick-or-Treating part was postponed until Saturday. That's ok with us. We prefer to trick-or-treat minus the rain gear!

This year however, the end of October 31st without any ER visits was enough celebration for me! The person visiting the ER and then checking in for a few days is probably not who you would expect. And it certainly wasn't from any needles in the candy (circa 1980's) OR big belly aches caused from an over consumption of Snicker bars! No this was something much different.

We don't talk about it much around here. We feel sincerely and overwhelming blessed that our "situation" turned out the way it did. And so I guess our silence about it is just a representation of moving on with life. We don't pretend that it never happened, although I'm sure my husband would prefer.

Two years ago, the day before Halloween, my husband was driving home from our camp when he called me, slightly confused. He said he was talking to a co-worker on his cell phone and was "forgetting basic words." He also complained that he was having excruciating head pains. Now my husband is one of the strongest men I know.  He has the capacity to carry-on better than most. What I mean by this is that my husband is a hard worker, a start-to-finish kinda guy. No matter the goal, or the time frame to complete it, he gets the job done, always. Completely. Thoroughly. If it meant climbing a mountain with a 100 lb boulder on his back, with a broken ankle in the pouring rain, he'd get the job done, finished without ever so much as a sigh. It's in his blood. He is truly his father's son. He simply does not complain.

So when he called me to complain about a headache and forgetting words, I knew something was wrong.
At the time, he had our two older sons with him in the truck. I told him to pull over and I would meet him wherever he was. I didn't want to alarm him, although I'm sure he knew, by the sound of his symptoms, I was sure he was having a stroke. Did I mention how stubborn my husband is? He said he was feeling better and if he got worse he promised he would pull over and call me. At this point I was angry with him. Both for ignoring those tall-tale symptoms of something seriously wrong with his body and for what I felt was his putting our kids lives in jeopardy by continuing to drive... We would argue this point today if I brought it up, so I don't. But they returned safely (thank God) and my husband looked truly awful. We immediately went to the ER.

I have to preface this by saying the hospital closest to our home is my LEAST favorite hospital in all the world. Yes, that bad. But in our state of frenzy and for the billboards around town that say they are the BEST hospital in town for Neurology, I grudgingly headed in that direction. When we got there and were finally seen, my husband's blood pressure was a sickening 220/126. Sickening. They didn't skip a beat (excuse the pun) in getting him back to a room. CAT scans, blood tests and hours later we were transferred to another hospital (due to our insurance carrier). About 30 hours later (and with minutes to spare for Trick-or-Treating) we were released, stroke free, to home. We left the hospital with a dual diagnosis of "migraine" and "spinal stenosis." I could write a book about crappy hospitals and healthcare providers during these 30 hours, but it wouldn't change the diagnosis my husband received 1 year later having NOTHING to do with migraines OR stenosis!

Fast forward one year and we are back in the ER minutes before Trick-or-Treating. Same headache symptoms. Although these were not the headaches you and I may suffer. These were paralyzing, base-of-the-neck pains that at one point sent my husband into convulsions (something I have tried to forget). There is nothing worse than seeing someone you love, in severe pain ----and being able to do absolutely nothing to help...  I'm serious when I tell you I could write a book, again, about what happened to us over the next ten days and then the 4 months following, until his surgery. Only this time the book would not only include crappy healthcare, crappy healthcare providers, crappy hospitals and more wrong diagnosis... but it would have a longer list of CARING health providers that properly diagnosed my husband and sent us on our way to recovery. It would also list family, friends, neighbors and strangers who prayed for my husband's health. Not to mention the outpouring of  unselfish acts of so many  helping our family through a difficult process. One such moment was the climax of this saga.  On December 31, 2012, when again, I believed my husband was having a stroke...only this time, it was much, much worse. I will spare the details out of respect for my husband's privacy... but my two neighbors, who were surely enjoying a celebatory night of friends, food and drink, left their party to sit with my children while my husband was taken away by ambulance. One of our dear neighbor and friends even climbed into bed with our four year-old daughter so that she would not be scared when they took her dad away in a stretcher. Not the type of holiday memories to hold dear.

On February 13, 2012 my husband had surgery to remove a cancerous tumor from his kidney. It was a little bugger, but it caused a mountain of problems, including the crippling head pains, stomach problems and the elevated blood pressures. The surgeon who removed the tumor took the time to discuss everything with us patiently and kindly. He even gave us his home phone number! Just incase we had any questions in the middle of the night... what MD does that??!! We had amazing doctors in the hospital where the surgery took place. And in the other hospital we had outstanding nursing care, which is unheard of these days. (And just so I don't have an angry mob of nurses showing up on my doorstep, I am not trashing nurses. As a matter-of-fact I'm an RN myself.  Most nurses are overworked and underpayed not to mention under appreciated...the others are old and bitter and need to retire.)

No chemo. No radiation. Six months of physical and mental healing with a 1% chance of recurrence was the prognosis we were sent home with. At six months the CAT scan was tumor free (hooray!). We are approaching the one year anniversary. I can almost guarantee their will be no celebatory parties or anything of the sort (only many prayers of thanks to the good Lord.) My husband insists that he can not call himself a cancer "sufferer" since he says he didn't suffer the same as others with cancer do. Part of this is true. After diagnosis and surgery we had an easier job of recovery than most. But nothing is easy about watching your loved one suffer, even if it's only for a short time. And he is a survivor in so many ways....even if he doesn't think so.

This year Halloween turned out to be a BIG treat! Which I'll take over those last two "Tricky" ones.

Happy Halloween and good health to all of you!

Jody

Oh, and maybe a little bit of irony in the orange ribbon representing kidney cancer?? In October??

Existence

If you write a blog and don't tell anyone about it, does it really exist?

The answer: Yes.

I haven't told anyone, except my husband that I have a blog. I'm not certain why I haven't shared this piece of info but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with acceptance. If no one reads my blog than no one can criticize it. Doesn't really serve the purpose of writing a blog, but it is what it is.

I'm not a writer so do I really have any business writing a blog? I've always loved to journal and I'm a true believer in "writing it down." Once it's on paper/computer screen and not lingering in your head, it makes you feel better.It makes me feel better.

I didn't start a blog so that I could complain, yet I feel like each time an idea pops into that blonde head of mine it is about something that is troubling me, annoying me or just plain pissing me off. The thought that someone, someday, might just read this blog makes me censor who and what I write about. I try to keep it in general terms, that way it could apply to anyone. Confrontation doesn't sit well with me so I think I will keep it as vague as possible. I would just love to share a doozy of a neighbor story with you...but vague, vague, vague.

Maybe I should look into my negative-way of thinking. Sometimes it invades me and I find it hard to find the good all around me. And there is plenty of good around. I have so many things to be thankful for. This past year alone our family has had a few harrowing experiences that have turned out very, very well. With that being said, I have four beautiful, healthy, well-rounded children, a husband who loves and respects me, a beautiful home and family all around me. I am truly blessed. (There. I did it. Positive.)

I'll keep on writing and try hard not to be a Debbie-downer all the time. And maybe, just maybe, I'll tell someone about this blog. Maybe.

Jody

Tangled

...and not like the Disney movie.

This "mess" of cords makes me @#%*CRAZY*%#@ !! Since it resides in the drawer right next to my keyboard, I see it often. It was meant to be a neat place to keep cords for iPods, cameras, dinosaur toys, etc. so that they don't get lost in the shuffle. It started out tidy and organized.

The other day I opened the drawer and my suppressed OCD (which will have to remain suppressed until my children have all grown and moved into their own homes--and probably my husband too) came out in full force. But instead of getting completely and senselessly annoyed, I tried a different approach. Oh, I still untangled them and bound them each very neatly side by side (where they will remain for about 30 seconds until someone needs to "charge up"). This time however, I looked at the mess of wires differently. As I untangled each cord, a thought occurred to me... Untangling those cords is like taking a bundle of life's little bits of craziness, finding a solution one by one and then putting "life" neatly back in order. Sounds deep, I know. But for me it is so true.

It mirrors the adage "don't sweat the small stuff." If you let the little things get you down, then the big things will plain and simply crush you. An argument with a family member, a rude driver on the road, a friend who is being not-so-friendly, unfinished homework at 8:29 a.m.---all small cords. When you use patience and understanding for the small cords, it's good practice for when a tangled mess of industrial-sized extension cords are thrown at you.

Yes, it is for certain that the drawer will be filled with tangled cords and wires again, just as a driver will cut me off or someone will be rude at the grocery store. But with the wisdom to patiently untangle the small stuff, comes the wisdom and the know-how to conquer the life-sized stuff, with finesse.

Jody

Change is good

I'm not a really big fan of Fall, for lots of reasons, but most of all because the school year begins.  It may not be for the reasons you are thinking (refer to my last blog, A Day in the Life). "Change is good" or so they say... but is it really? I've never fared well with change. As a matter-of-fact, I down right hate it. Too bad right? Life is full of change.

Of course not all change is bad, per say. There's the change in weather from rain to sun, there is the change in... well, that's the only positive one I can think of for the moment (sorry, glass half-empty me at the moment).

When I was a child I suffered from "Separation Anxiety" as discovered after years of adult therapy. I never liked to be away from my mom and dad, ever. I wouldn't do sleep overs at friend's houses or go away on vacation with them as teenagers. I even remember at an earlier age (maybe 4 or 5) not letting my dad leave when he brought me to a friend's house for a play date. Separation anxiety is a terrible thing for a child because you are too young to use any sort of cognitive thinking. Or in other words, be reasonable about the situation. Obviously my parents were coming back for me! Duh? But for a child, it is a feeling of abandonment without actually ever being abandoned---ok, ok, I'm getting much too deep...back to the point. Change, I hated it---I despised the start of school. I was a social butterfly once I got there, but would rather stay home at the safety of my mom's hip. I'm sure this drove my parents insane. I remember my mom waking my dad up one morning before she sent me off to school and they went round and round with all sorts of bribery in a vain attempt to get me on the bus without crying. My dad worked nights, so there must have been some significance of him jumping on the bribe-your-child-to-go-to-school train! I think I cried everyday until the 6th grade (then I found the thrill of sneaking make-up to school and applying it in the bathroom before school started...hmm). This pattern went on for years and years. Even as a young adult, off to college, I cried when my mom left me standing in the middle of an apartment, I had never seen before (not to mention with two strange roomates) which was to be my home for the next semester. Did I mention this University was only a mere 30 miles from home? (and then I started partying...hmm).

Five years ago when I sent my first son to school, I sat in his Kindergarten room at orientation and watched him color in his red apple (R-E-D spells "red") in his little seat, at his little desk...and I cried, a lot--not tears of joy. I'm sure the other parents thought I was a little goofy. I'm sure a few of them were thinking, "Reserve the crying for the first day when he goes without you."  A few weeks later I was having a drink with a friend and this guy approached us. He said, smirk on face, "Hey, weren't you the mom who was doing all that crying at the Kindergarten orientation?"  "Oh yea, well what kind of parent of a Kindergartner is out during the week drinking in a bar..." err, umm, oh wait, me.  I laughed him off. But obviously, he noticed the pitiful "orientation sobbing." When the dreaded day came and I had to put him on the bus and wave goodbye, I did. Tear free. Well, that is, until I got home and started crying hysterically while folding laundry and thinking, "I can't even go get him because he lawfully needs to be in school." Change = bad.

This year I sent my 3rd child, my daughter, my princess, my sidekick to Kindergarten. Difficult, sadness, anxiety, change. Change, not good. Blah!

My kids don't mind separation from their mother one bit. Sure, they went through the 6 month, 12 months and 24 month separation thing that all kids go through, but they bounced right back. They love sleep overs, and school and they don't fret over change. Thank goodness.

There is one thing that I don't mind changing... that would be... underwear. And that's about it!

Jody

A Day In the Life...

I often ponder what "normal" is. Sometimes when I see or hear others doing or saying something that I find "strange" I wonder if they are normal and it's me that is actually strange? My husband and I joke about this often when we are parenting our children. Are we abnormal with our strict rules, structures and disciplines? Do we demand too much from our children? Is it too much for a 9, 7 & 5 year old to have daily chores? Is it too much to insist our offspring use good manners, always? We certainly don't think so, but sometimes we get sideways glances about our parenting and so we wonder, "are we the normal or the abnormal?" Really it doesn't matter either way. We have chosen to raise our children with certain expectations about their behaviors; like good manners, respect for themselves and for others and a good work ethic (just to name a few). But we are not perfect. And some things will slip through the cracks. Our kids will  have bad days where they forget their please and thank you's or they aren't very nice to one of the neighborhood kids. But we don't expect perfection, just a true effort at being a good human being.

So what is a day like in our home of eight? Well, anything BUT normal if you ask me!

6:30 a.m.- Mom's alarm goes off (and so begins the internal struggle with, "they can be late today... no they can't be late, it's only the 1st week of school, imagine what the secretary will think when I have to sign them in late on their 2nd day of school!)

7:00 a.m.- Mom stops pushing snooze and gets out of bed because she knows, inevitably, they have to go to school, on time.

7:10 a.m. - The alarm rings for the older boys... and rings, and rings, and rings, and rings...

7:20 a.m. - Mom walks in, tells the boys it's time to get up.....tells them again, calmly....tells them again...yells, "BOYS,  i-t   i-s   t-i-m-e   t-o   g-e-t   u-p  N-O-W!!!"

7:21 a.m. - Sleepy-eyed 9 & 7 year old boys scramble for a quick, wake-up shower.

7:22 a.m. - Mom goes downstairs to begin the preparation of lunches, water bottles, signed homework papers in appropriate folders, money for fundraisers in appropriate envelopes, dinner out of freezer for defrosting, folding a load of laundry, emptying the dishwasher, let the dog out, feed the cat...

7:35 a.m.- Mom yells at boys to get out of shower and threatens that if they don't they will not be allowed to take wake-up showers anymore!

7:40 a.m. - Boys are fighting in their room about who was the first one to learn how to do a front flip on the trampoline (or some other ridiculous topic), mom walks in and yells at them to stop arguing and get dressed!

7:45 a.m. - Mom walks back to their room to find two boys laying on the floor, still wrapped in towels, playing with dust bunnies from under the bed... Mom yells, again.

7:50 a.m. - Mom wakes up her baby girl to start her morning routine of  wash face, brush teeth, style hair, coordinate complete girly outfit from hair bows, to shoes (I actually enjoy that part). And, of course, yelling at the boys.

8:00 a.m. - Begins the mad rush to get socks & shoes on, breakfast eaten, folders, lunches, backpacks, coats and out the door by 8:30---yelling all the while...

Yes, this is only the first 90 minutes of the day (I didn't take in to consideration the 30 minutes I lie in bed yearning to roll over and go back to sleep so that I don't have to do the 7-8:30 yelling and rushing)

I am not a morning person. In fact, I am not a person at all until about 9:00 a.m. I am miserable, mean and bare a close resemblance to the Wicked-Witch of the West. I yell, a lot. Sometimes I tire of listening to my own self. I often wonder if my children only hear a loud version of "whaw, whaw whaw, whaw, whawww" as we shuffle through our mornings. And well, afternoon isn't much better. We're lucky if there isn't some sort of  lecturing going on 3 minutes after they are off the bus. Sometimes I find it unbearable. And don't even get me started on the evening routine...

 I assure you that the chaos in our home is not for lack of organization. Quite the contrary is true. I have lists and charts for every hour of the day. I have bins and boxes for folders, shoes, gloves and hats (one for each child). I have hooks and hangers for little people. I have rules, I have structure for just about everything. It's still chaos. It's exhausting.

Every night when I tuck my children in, I tell them I love them. And I do. More than anything in the world, I love my children. They make me crazy most of the time, but I love every ounce of each of them. I love that my oldest son wakes up every morning with a smile on his face. I love that my middle son doesn't-- that he is just like his mother, a hater of mornings. I love that my daughter thinks that I'm the best thing since pancakes. And I love that my youngest son is a little bit of all three of his older siblings wrapped up in one sweet bundle of 2 year-old.

Are we normal? Heavens no. Are we strange? Heavens no. We are all the craziness, chaos, love and family that you can fit into one, too small of a two-story home for eight. We are perfect, just the way we are.

Jody