July 17, 2011 ~ Day 219 Slow and Steady

I can't be the only one out there.

Odds are high that lots of people feel the same impatience with the process of growing and improving; the same impulse to Do It Right and Do It NOW.

For example, I look around our house... this house that I truly love, which is mainly falling apart. Take the bathroom, for instance.

This is not our home - so I do not have the legal right to fix the most glaring flaws I see. A brief scan shows rot in the baseboards, rust on the pipes, cracks in the paint, tears in the blinds.

When I see these things, this is what I want to do:

• Hire a contracter.
• Get estimates for how to clear the bathroom walls of mold and rot.
• Pay to have the entire thing stripped down and then rebuilt with good fresh wood.
• Put a fresh coat of paint on the walls
• Replace the cheap plastic blinds with expensive wooden blinds or cheerful curtains

Then I want to tackle the rest of the house.

I get these IMPULSES, these strong feelings to make things better - to make them beautiful...

...until I remember our bank account ~ and the way in which our voracious needs as a family of five really soak up the entire paycheck of the hardworking man I'm married to.

So I take a deep breath, and remind myself that it isn't always going to be like this.

Someday we will have more money.
Someday we will have our own home.
Someday I will create a beautiful bathroom.
Someday.

It's the same way with my health.
There are a million things I would like to do right now, steps along the path to healing. I'd like to get checked for heavy metals, which I've read can seriously disrupt adrenal function. There are books I'd like to purchase, naturopaths I'd like to consult, protocols I'd be open to trying.

Here is what stands between me and those goals... $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

So I take another deep breath, and remind myself that it isn't always going to be like this.

Someday we will have more money.
Someday I will find the perfect balance of nutrition, supplementation and medicine to restore me to amazing health.
Someday I will look in the mirror and see the girl I remember from not long ago.
Someday.

I'm trying to learn now NOT to be frantic with my goals. How to find peace. I'm working on taking things one step at a time; understanding that it doesn't all have to happen today.

* * * * * * *

Perhaps most central to my heart, I really wish that I had more time with my husband. I was looking at photos of us this morning, photos which were taken between the years of 2002 and 2005, before we had any children.

In the pictures you can sense this *vibe*, this almost tangible chemistry. Or maybe I'm the only one who would sense that chemistry between us, since I actually lived it at the time.

Either way, I can see and feel the chemistry between those two free, happy young people that we were not so long ago ~ and I remember SO CLEARLY how it felt. To share those moments, experiences, conversations. The privacy of an actual love affair.

I love that guy, and I can't believe how little we actually see of each other these days. I can't even begin to describe how many times in the last six years we've been *just* about to kiss, or right in the middle of starting a really deep talk... and then one or the other of three (precious) little people has stormed into the room with some URGENT need that MUST BE MET right at that moment.

"Mommy, MY BED IS WET!"
"Mommy, I NEED you to tuck me IN!"
"Mommy, HE HIT ME!"
"Mommy, my tummy HURTS!"

It's actually significant and impressive that - especially since he goes to bed every night not long after our children do - that we've managed to stay as close as we have, given how very rare are our times alone together.

When I look at these old photos of us, this is what I want to do:

• Hire a babysitter.
• Take my my husband away on a surprise vacation, just the two of us
• Go somewhere without anyone crying, fussing, or climbing on our legs
• Watch a sunset or something. Take a long walk.
• Sit together in pristine silence, holding hands
• Later, after the blessed silence, talk about grown up things

This is what I would like to do - and this is what I hope to do in August. If I can pull it off, we will have our first 'romantic' weekend alone together in three years. Childless couples may have a hard time relating to the significance of that statement.

Allow me to say it again - our first time really alone together in THREE YEARS... (if you're not counting the medical trip to see a specialist last Summer, which frankly, I'm not).

I'm just hoping the money and babysitting work out for this upcoming trip.

I want to do this TODAY! Yet, I know that patience and faith will be required to pull it off. So I take a deep breath, and remind myself that it isn't always going to be like this.

Someday we will have more time.
Someday our children will be independent and self-sufficient.
Someday we will find ourselves alone together frequently, and missing those dear little faces. We'll look back fondly on all of the interruptions and sleepless nights.
Someday we will travel, sleep in, have romantic dinners and go see live music again. We'll have plenty of hours for each other, and for everything.
Someday.

* * * * * * *

Here is what the smaller, meaner me is shouting:

I WANT IT ALL!!! I WANT IT ALL RIGHT NOW!!!!!


Here is what the larger, truer me is whispering:

Slow and steady. Slow and steady wins the race.

* * * * * * *

I know these things are coming. I look back upon the last year and realize just how far we've progressed, and it is truly inspiring. Our children are thriving. They are growing quickly. We love our new home. We love our new neighborhood. Overall I've gotten so much healthier, and put back on a bunch of weight. I'm on a good healing protocol. We're making a little more money. My husband's businesses have been growing and he's working so hard. I love tutoring. We're in a better place.

I just need to make peace with the Slow;
just need to relax into to the Steady.

Just need to hold on... and enjoy the ride.

July 16, 2011 ~ Day 218 Hello, Miss B!

This afternoon I decided to treat my children to a movie and ice cream, seeing how much they've missed their daddy and how hard they tried to help me clean our house today.

I wish I could say I've been a perfect mother during his absence but the truth is, it's been a little rocky. I really don't know how my friends do it that are either single mothers or military spouses.

My husband has only been gone for three days and I'm sure my children are more than ready to trade me in for a new model. I've raised my voice several times, sent all of them into time out at some point for one reason or another, and generally not lived up to my own hopes and expectations.

SO.

Around 3pm today I decided to take my boys and girl to see 'Winnie the Pooh', a new cartoon movie appearing in theaters right now. They'd gotten plenty of energy out playing and cleaning, and I felt like we could all use a mental break.

We chose a 5pm screening and although it nearly took an act of Congress to get them out of the house by 4:48pm, somehow we made it to the theater at 5:02pm in time to buy tickets before the actual film started.

As I waited in line to use our movie pass, my children ran to the video game corner of the theater (about 10 feet away from me) and began to frolic on the machines.

Our pass is a little bit special and because of this, new cashiers at the theater typically need to call in a manager. Tonight was no exception, and the nice guy at the front did call over his manager to ask for guidance on how to ring up our movie card. The manager, a bearded man in his early twenties, swiftly responded and began to explain to him how to document it... then looked up at me, and his eyes widened.

I mean, really widened. They also sort of flashed.

"He knows me somehow," I thought. "He looked like he recognized me from somewhere." The guy did look familiar to me too, something about his bright blue eyes.

Getting back to my ticket purchase, I finished up and turned around to see the manager standing with one of my former students, a strapping 18 year old who resembles Taylor Lautner and who has just graduated from high school. "Hi Jeremy*!" I smiled. "How are you doing?"

Jeremy and I have run into each other at this theater before... he's worked there for about two years taking tickets and helping in the box office, and so this was not such an unexpected sighting. I always turn a little bit red when I run into him though, a bit embarrassed to be seen out in public away from my teacher persona ~ and especially when I'm frazzled and juggling small children.

Before Jeremy could answer though, his manager smiled at me and said -

"Didn't you teach at Carter* Middle School?"

Looking at the guy's name label I read "Mike N.*" and suddenly it all came together. This guy was a former student of mine as well... one I'd known a few years before Jeremy. He must have been around 22 or 23 now, basically the same age that I was when I taught him 7th grade Humanities.

"Wow," I said. "It's nice to see you -- both of you! It's weird that you're both here, since I taught the two of you at two different schools. You look like you're doing well."

"Well, I work at a movie theater," replied Mike.

"Hey, don't knock it -" I responded. "My big brother works for these theaters in their home office in New York City and I think that he has really enjoyed his career."

"That's right," he nodded.

"Well it's good to see you," I said. "I was lucky to be your teacher and I am proud of you."

"That's kind of a generic compliment," he replied, "but I'll take it."

I blushed, but tried to recover gracefully.

"In all the years I was a teacher, I never met a kid that I couldn't find something to love about." I said. "It was easier with some students than others," I smiled - and gestured toward him. I do remember having a good feeling about him, I recall him as a quiet kid who kept to himself and was a meticulous but strong writer. I can't be positive after a decade, but I'm fairly confident that Mike earned an "A" in my class.

Turning to Jeremy, who I remember very well, I said - "Have you met my kids?"

Back to Mike, "When I was your teacher I wasn't married yet, so no kids..."

I brought them over to the video game corner where my three children were enraptured with violent games that I would NEVER let them play at home... and tried to introduce my brood. Who promptly ignored all of us.

"So, you're going to stay here for now?" I asked Jeremy, since I know he just graduated from high school.

"I'm moving to San Francisco at the end of the Summer," he responded. "Going to one of the state schools up there."

"That's great! You'll love that city."

"Don't even get me started on college," said Mike. "I started at the local State but dropped out after a year and then tried the local junior college and left that too. Somehow it just isn't working for me."

"Well," I awkwardly replied... "I went to Big Ivy University and now I'm a stay-at-home mom. You'll both have great carers and lives. I believe you're going to do really well... and your life isn't determined by what college you go to."

(Thanks, yes, I win the foot-in-mouth award for the night. I honestly was so flustered by the entire run-in, I just didn't respond well to anything!)

"It's been great seeing you both," I smiled weakly. "Weird for me that you are both much taller than I am now, and all grown up. I don't know how that happened - or how I ended up with three kids of my own! I guess we've all been busy."

We exchanged a few brief pleasantries and then parted company. "Take care and good luck!"

They smiled at me benignly and ambled away, leaving me to wrangle my three little munchkins and try to get them into the movie theater.

* * * * * * *

In all honesty, I really have a tough time running into former students when I'm not prepared. I love them all, and I love seeing them - but I am always so darn embarrassed.

Since I taught elementary and middle school from 1997 to 2007 in the same city, these kinds of run-ins do happen to me from time to time. They never happen when I am freshly showered and coiffed, wearing matching clothing and looking professional and contented.

They almost invariably seem to occur when I am, like today, completely worn out - lucky that my shirt almost matches my pants, stained with toddler grime, hair a total mess and sweating heavily.

I picture in my mind's eye how these students must have seen me once, as children. From the vantage point of an eight or twelve year old, I seemed like the "fun" teacher (at least for many of them)... I was young, passionate about teaching, liked to make them laugh and genuinely cared about them as people. I connected very well with most students in my career.

At the time these boys met me I may have seemed like someone to look up to, someone educated and hardworking... and for some of the kids in my classes (before I became a parent and gained 60 lbs) I even seemed sort of pretty, 'hip' and cool.

When I run into my former "kids" at the mall, the grocery store, the doctor's office or yes, the movie theater, it just makes me want to sink into the floor.

I feel so self-conscious and worry about how they are assessing me - for example, today I spent about twenty minutes in the darkened theater decompressing from that conversation with Mike, wishing I'd been able to remember specifics about him more quickly so that I could have given him more than a "generic" compliment.

I worry that my former students look at me the same way that children look at Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy once they get older... as a quaint, outgrown tradition with many flaws.

With all of my now-graying hair, sallow skinny face, wrinkles and the nearly permanently affixed "frantic/exhausted" look on my face... I can't help but wonder if they are going to walk away from our brief run-ins and think to themselves, "Wow, she wasn't as tall/cool/nice/smart as I remembered her to be."

I mean, it's really almost inevitable. I'm not a superwoman... I'm just me. Quirky, intense, loving and tired. These days my brain isn't all that sharp anymore either, although I'm hoping with more sleep and further antibiotic treatment that is going to improve.

Many of my former students are really doing amazing things, creating careers that will far surpass mine. I am so genuinely proud of that. I functioned as just one of many stepping stones for them, and I'm honored to have played that small role in their lives. As I've described before, it still amazes me that they are adults now - getting married and having children of their own.

It feels like only yesterday when I taught these two boys; yet somehow they've become men. When I look at their chiseled faces it is possible to see the children they once were, but only barely. Only their eyes are really the same.

I guess the longer I'm out of the classroom, the less I will have these chance encounters with former students. In the past, some of them (mainly sixth and seventh graders) have wanted to friend me on Facebook and I've struggled with that... ultimately giving all of them my personal email address but denying their social network friend requests.

"I've always tried to keep a respectful space between my professional life and personal life," I responded to all of them... "and I only accept Facebook friend requests from friends my own age... but I would love to keep in touch with you ~ and here is the best way to contact me."

(There exists a very small handful of exceptions to that rule - three amazing children from the same family who I taught fourteen years ago in my very first job. Somehow they transcended the student role and became more like family to me... possibly because their parents and I got to know each other very well over the years and became close. For those beautiful kids my life is an open book.)

All adults who have mentored children develop their own way of dealing with the inevitable intersection of their home and work lives.

I guess I'm still grappling with my own spontaneous responses, my own comfort zone. Maybe by the time my former students have children of their own who I'm teaching or tutoring ~ I'll have figured out a smoother and more articulate way of negotiating the divide.










*Names changed to protect the privacy of the people mentioned.

July 15, 2011 ~ Day 217 Perfect Timing

Have you ever had a day that started out so badly, you just wanted to climb right back into bed... but then turned out to be fantastic?

Today was assuredly that day for me, and I've got to admit that I really didn't see the happy ending coming.

My husband is out of town and our children really miss him. A lot.

One might imagine that ~ given the presence of one parent and the absence of the other ~ said children would perhaps be happy to spend time with the parent taking care of them 24/7... and lavishing them with attention and love.

As it turns out, that would be a NO.

So far it's been a little bit like this -

Me: "Hey, do you want to go for a bike ride today?"

"No."

"But you LOVE going for bike rides! You and Daddy take them all the time!"

"No I don't."

"Um... yes, you do!"

"MOMMMMM.... I *don't* want to go for a bike ride."

"Really? Wow."

"I *do* like bike rides, Mom. But ONLY with my Dad."

"Okay..."

* * * * * * *

There have been a lot of "When is Daddy coming home?" and "Where's my Daddy?" comments, and for the most part I've done a good job of not feeling too bad over the fact that I'm apparently a shoddy substitute for the 'real' (fun) thing.

I comfort myself with the following mantra:

"Someday they will grow up, and they will have children of their own, and they will realize that I am not the worst mother ever."

I then silently pray that I will still be here to see that happy day.

* * * * * * *

This morning my children were in a particularly off-color mood. Really, super grumpy.

Everything was a tantrum:

I poured them cereal.

"I don't LIKE cereal!"

"YOU DIDN'T GIVE ME ENOUGH MILK!!!"

"Why does SHE get more cereal than I get???"

I told them that after I took a quick shower, we'd go to play at our local theme park (twice in a week, what lucky kids! Thank you, annual passes!)

"NO! I DON'T WANT TO GET DRESSED!!!!!!!!!"

"You're taking a SHOWER!!!? Why do you need to take a SHOWER Mom?"

"It will just be three minutes, honey."

"THREE MINUTES????? THAT IS SOOOOO LONG!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Sigh.

It wasn't just directed toward me, however - as you may imagine, they were directing it at each other too.

"That's MY light saber!!! (Cup, book, shirt, crayon... you name it...) GIVE IT BACK!!!"


All in all, we had quite the grumpy house.

* * * * * *

Originally I had intended for us to leave for the theme park around 9:30am, since it opens at 10am and I had an OB-GYN appointment at 1:45pm not far away. I figured we could play at the park all morning, then hit the doctor's office on the way home.

However, by 9:50am my children were still in their pajamas, fighting over who got to use the shower first... and I was trying to stay positive and ignore their whining while making sandwiches for our picnic lunch.

Suddenly I remembered that tickets to see Portishead in Los Angeles in October went on sale right at 10am. My husband and I love this band, we met during a time when he played in a band that was often compared to Portishead and certainly influenced by its music.

Their particular sound and vibe bring back many wonderful, rich, amazing memories for me ~ of a time in life that was mostly about passionate excitement. Music and love were strongly interconnected for us, not only the love of music but the way music became integrally woven into our love for each other.

By a happy coincidence, our 9 year anniversary will fall exactly one week before the upcoming Portishead show. "Wouldn't it be wonderful," I thought - "To get tickets for this show and celebrate our 9th anniversary in Los Angeles... just the two of us?"

It seemed like an impossible dream. After all, if Adele (another wonderful artist) can sell out in minutes, surely Portishead would as well after a 13 year hiatus from touring in the United States. There are a lot of other people out there like me, who would move heaven and earth to get to that show.

Still, I didn't have much to lose. My children were so busy bickering with each other, they didn't even hear me as I tried to encourage them to get their clothes on so we could go.

Call me selfish, but it seemed like a great moment to forget about the general chaos in our house and try my luck at getting tickets.

At 9:59am I had my credit card information ready and stood with my hands poised over the Ticketmaster website, refreshing the page over and over until the tickets at last went on sale. Within about 30 seconds I had started the ticket purchase process... and my hands actually started to shake as I realized that for 5 full minutes there would be 2 Portishead tickets reserved in my name.

I typed our information into their website as swiftly and accurately as I could, in spite of the two little boys trying to swat at each other from either side of me. My fingers were still trembling and I had to force myself to take a deep breath. "MUST.NOT.LOSE.THESE.TICKETS," I told myself - and then jumped through all of Ticketmaster's lame hoops.

When at last I was sure that the purchase was complete and I had actually gotten tickets for the show at their original (non-scalper) base price, I started yelling.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I shouted with my hands in the air. "YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

My sons were so surprised by this sudden ecstatic outburst from their mother, they actually forgot to fight.

"What is it Mom?"

"What happened, Mommy?"

I danced around the kitchen and tried to explain to them, in a way that would not hurt their little feelings, how excited I was to have gotten tickets for this show in Los Angeles (that no, they could not come to with us).

For at least five minutes, I felt ten years younger. Bliss!

* * * * * * *

Here is the part that really amazes me. For the rest of our day from the moment I purchased those show tickets, our timing could not have been more perfect.

We drove north just in time to eat the lunch I'd packed and go shoe shopping, before my doctor's appointment. (We'd agreed to do the theme park after the doctor's appointment...)

Our freeway exit happened to come right before a vast line of traffic, and we could see that the freeway ahead was a virtual parking lot. Our exit was 100% clear but all five of the lanes to our left were completely choked up and at a standstill. "Bye bye Traffic!!!" my children waved happily.

We found new shoes, ON SALE, for all three children in 25 minutes!
(Have you BEEN shoe shopping with three small children before? This was nothing short of a miracle.)

We arrived at the OB-GYN office perfectly on-time, and they allowed all three children to wait with me to see the doctor. (Um, that is another story for another time... LOL!)

At last it was time to go to the theme park, and we managed to get outstanding parking right near the entrance - just on a whim. "Why don't we just try?" I'd said out loud, even though the lot was supposedly full, and sure enough, there was a perfect empty spot waiting right in the front.

"That spot is OUR spot, Mommy!" the younger son said. "It was supposed to be OURS."

"I agree!"

Then... and this is the most amazing thing of all -

Right as we entered the vast theme park I saw two familiar faces. The parents of two of my all-time best friends who I grew up with, so close they are more like sisters to me ~ and I hadn't seen their folks in maybe two years... a long while.

Yet there they were, just walking hand in hand out toward the park exit.

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed. "I am SO happy to see you!!!" Exuberantly I hugged them both and introduced them to my children. It made me so happy to see this beautiful couple who had been like second parents to me, and treated me like one of their own kids, for many years.

More amazing, they let me know that one of their two daughters (my incredible friend Laura*) was actually in the gift shop not 20 feet to my left with her new boyfriend and their (combined) five children.

This was truly miraculous because my friend and her new combined family live in OREGON! I haven't seen her in so long! They'd come to town just for the weekend. Needless to say, it was SO fantastic to run into them ~ especially to get to meet her new love, and all of their children. Laura looked so radiant, it made me feel radiant too. Our chance encounter made my entire day.

What are the odds?

I just don't think any of this was coincidence! For the rest of the afternoon all I could think was this:

"Wow - if my children had been well behaved this morning, I would never have run into Laura and her family this afternoon. It's so amazing that even those crazy morning tantrums were perfectly timed to throw off my planned schedule, so that I would run into these dear people in the late afternoon today."

In the end, my kids and I ended up having a fantastic afternoon and evening together ~ full of fun, laughter, hugs and even some poignant moments...

...so that by the time their father called to say good night to them at 8:30pm, all they wanted to talk about was what a good day they'd spent with ME!

If you'd asked me this morning to predict what our day had in store - I would assuredly NOT have expected Portishead tickets, 25 minute successful shoe shopping, harmonious happy children, or randomly running into Laura and her folks.

I couldn't have guessed that by tonight my grumpy boys and I would find ourselves cuddling happily on the couch watching old home movies on my laptop computer... or that they would have gone to bed so peacefully and full of love.

Thankfully, Life does have these fantastic surprises in store for us now and then... and I'm so grateful that I wasn't actually able to control our timing this morning. What I'd thought of as a disastrous start to the day turned out to herald perfection.









*Names changed to protect the privacy of the parties mentioned

July 13, 2011 ~ Day 215 The Journey from A to B

For a long time I've known that my body needed more TLC. Specifically, I've been aware that in particular there are a few small glands in my body that aren't doing their job as they should - namely the thyroid and adrenals.

It isn't really a mystery why my adrenals would be so far out of whack. Certainly the lyme disease and other bacteria play a role, but more than anything the tremendous stress I've lived with for twenty years is likely to be at the root of all.

I am a Caucasian woman of middle class background with a lovely family, healthy food to eat and a roof over my head. Not to mention, for the past four years I've been a stay-at-home mother. What could I possibly have to stress about?

Oh, everything.

What it comes down to is my extremely type A personality.

If you put my husband and I into the exact same situation, we respond to it 100% differently. I am anxious, frustrated and fearful. He is completely relaxed.

For example -

When one of our kids gets sick. Starts screaming in the middle of the night. Vomiting, feverish, crying.

I'm up all night, taking his or her temperature, giving medicine, talking to the after hours nurse. I sit next to the ill child and cuddle them. There is no possible way I can let my body sleep, I'm so full of worry.

My husband? Not so much. "He'll be fine," he mumbles, and then rolls over and falls back to sleep. He can sleep through crying, vomiting, diarrhea. He can sleep through earthquakes, loud noises. The guy is amazing. He can sleep peacefully through just about anything!

Typically, my husband turns out to be 100% right.

By morning, our child's fever has broken, vomiting has stopped, and they're well on the mend. He or she will take a morning nap and awaken feeling much improved.

I however, will be exhausted for the rest of the day; sometimes for several days to come.

All of this takes its toll on the adrenals. When you live on adrenalin for long enough, it can really wear a body down.

I've known this for ages, but with three small kids I just haven't known how to create a stress-free life.

Now though, I am recognizing that figuring out a healthier lifestyle isn't optional anymore. My bloodwork shows that this prolonged stress is taking a significant toll. I actually have to DO it. I actually have to teach myself how to be laid back and more relaxed.

So, I've decided upon a new project: The Adrenal Project... also known as The Happy Healing Project.

I've got to figure out how to go from Type A to Type B.

"A Type A individual [is] ambitious, aggressive, business-like, controlling, highly competitive, impatient, preoccupied with his or her status, time-conscious, and tightly-wound. People with Type A personalities are often high-achieving "workaholics" who multi-task, push themselves with deadlines, and hate both delays and ambivalence."

(Thanks, Wikipedia... for confirming what everyone who has ever known me already knows! LOL!)

Alternatively, "People with Type B personalities are generally patient, relaxed, easy-going, and at times lacking an overriding sense of urgency. Because of these characteristics, Type B individuals are often described as apathetic and disengaged by individuals with Type A or other personality types."

Um, yep!

I really do get frustrated sometimes by what I perceive to be apathy. I'm so uber-A, I like a focused discussion, an intense connection.

How then, to turn the tables?

How to become more patient, relaxed and easygoing?

(If only they'd passed the California marijuana laws... LOL.)

I wish there was a quick, easy fix to this. I suspect, though, that it is going to take time. You can't just turn an apple into an orange overnight. There are so many ways to stress... and I'm so good at it ;-) Especially when it comes to raising my kids and dealing with their tantrums, I really need help chilling out.

I'm open to feedback so if any of my friends or readers have suggestions (that don't require money) to develop a more laid back, relaxed response to life - I'd love to hear them! For now, I think I have to realize that it's okay to do a "B" quality job; everything doesn't have to be perfect all of the time.

With my husband out of town for several days and the three kiddos on my own, I'm guessing I'm going to have plenty of time to practice decompressing and approaching intense situations more gracefully.

My current goals are to get outdoors with the kids at least 1 hour every day, get exercise, go to sleep 2 hours earlier than I have been doing for months... and to try to laugh more. I don't laugh nearly enough, and it shows.

I am sending the world much love today, and hoping for the best!
Wish me luck and I'll happily report back on my progress.

July 12, 2011 ~ Day 214 Time For Bed

I am taking deep breaths.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Breathing is apparently good for stress.

According to the bloodwork I got back this week my adrenal glands are not doing too well right now. They've been low for a while, very low levels of cortisol and DHEA, low ACTH stim test. Low a year ago... now lower.

(Have I mentioned that I have 3 small children?)

If you saw "adrenals" and thought "adrenalin?" that's right on the money. Your adrenal glands are closely linked to the fight or flight instinct.

Adrenalin is great in small doses... but what happens when you live in a constant state of heightened stress, over a long period of time?

Well, your adrenal glands fail. And if that happens, you can't survive heightened stress. Literally. Stress will literally kill you.

People need functioning adrenal to survive illnesses, tragedies, major surgeries, etc. Adrenals help regulate our hormones. They're pretty critical.

If my adrenals drop further, it might ultimately put me in a position to need daily doses of steroids for the rest of my life... which is obviously not ideal.

All of my stuff is interrelated. Thyroid, adrenals, lyme disease. The whole package goes hand in hand.

The good news is, adrenals *can* improve with support. Sleep, exercise, lack of stress, and appropriate herbs have been shown to improve adrenal function. It isn't a lost cause yet. I don't need to go on steroids.

I tend to stay awake pretty late every night to keep up my commitment to this blog. Typically I end up going to sleep around 1:00amPST, just to keep up with my roles as mother, wife, content writer and tutor - and then, when everyone else is asleep and I've met their needs adequately, I can finally focus on my blog.

I don't mind doing this, in fact it is a joy -

but apparently the late nights and lack of sleep are really taking their toll on my body.

Which sort of negates the reason why I write this blog in the first place. I made the commitment to keep the daily blog back in December when I had been quite ill and suffering. I wanted to create something of value that my children would have from me for the rest of their lives.

My real goal though, is to be here with them, healthy and hearty and full of life... so that they can learn from me in person. A blog is nice, but it doesn't give warm hugs the way a mommy can.

In short, I need more sleep. My KIDS need me to get more sleep. They say in an airplane crash you've got to put on your own oxygen mask first so you'll have the strength you need to put masks on your children.

My cortisol is crashing, and it's time to put on my sleep mask.

I'm pretty sure that most of my friends and family who read this blog ~ many of whom are busy mothers themselves ~ will completely understand! Exhaustion is a pretty normal part of parenthood. Adrenal insufficiency is not uncommon in our fast paced, high intensity modern society.

With five months remaining for my 365 day commitment though, I need to make sure that I'm not writing at the expense of my long-term health.

So here is the new rule, and I'm going to stick to it strictly:

No writing after 11:30pm. No matter what.

Also, there are simply going to be times when I need to come back and "make up" for a day when I didn't have the time or energy to write. I'm already behind on about 7? blogs from the past 7 months and I'm guessing there will be more over the next 5 months.

Still.

Somehow by December 10, 2011 I will complete all 365 blogs and try to give them my very best!

For now though, thanks to Doctor's orders and my own exhaustion, it's time for bed.

(My husband's leaving town and I'll have all 3 kiddos on my own for several days. I'm going to need every ounce of extra energy I can get...)

Take care... be well, and I'll write more as soon as I'm able :-)
May the ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz be with you!

July 11, 2011 ~ Day 213 Dancing With STAR WARS

A week ago my son tried out a new dance class at his studio ~ the 'Hip-Hop Boys Club'.

Although he expressed worry over leaving the female teacher that he's had for five months (and the little girls he's grown used to dancing with) I could tell that he also felt pretty excited about meeting other boys his age who also love to dance.

As it turned out there were about seven boys also attending the class AND a "Boy" teacher - a very talented African-American man with tons of energy.

My son perked up as soon as he saw the other boys begin to stream into the studio, and by the time I returned to pick him up from class 50 minutes later he was virtually glowing with happiness.

Unlike time spent with the more docile little girls, who have tended to be more quiet and shy, the lively studio was now bursting with action and noise - everyone full of SPARK.

My son stood at the front of the line and danced with exuberance, following his teacher's lead to the letter. In fact, when the music finally stopped playing he ran outside to let me know that HE had won the 'freeze dance' ~ some kind of fun game where the children freeze in place when the music stops. "I was the best!" he sang out. "I won!"

This new hip-hop Boys Club had quickly taken my son's love of dance to an entirely new level. "It was SO GREAT Mom, I can't wait until next week!"

Just as we were about to head back to our car the dance teacher called my son over and asked, "Did you tell her? Did you tell her?"

My son giggled and shook his head.

"Mom," announced the dance coach. "It's time, Mom. Your boy has GOT to watch STAR WARS. We're learning a STAR WARS hip-hop dance and he's the only one in the class that doesn't know the sounds that a Jedi knight makes with the light saber."

I laughed out loud.

The truth - though I didn't want to say this in front of all of the other little boys standing there - is that *I* have never been the person holding my son back from watching STAR WARS. It's him! He is the one who isn't excited about the series.

Which is ironic, because his four year old brother is completely enamored with all things STAR WARS, and for his fourth birthday he requested (and received) only STAR WARS toys and a STAR WARS lunchbox. The younger brother loves nothing more than to pretend that he is Darth Vader and play "bad guys" all day long.

STAR WARS has actually caused significant friction in our household, because his older brother HATES playing bad guys. He only wants to be a good guy, and he doesn't like playing any kind of a game with violence. (Um... go figure. Anyone who has read this blog will know how confusing that is to me...)

My oldest son has rejected STAR WARS from the beginning of the new craze among his buddies. He looked through one book in the bookstore, pronounced the pictures 'too scary' and since then has rejected it outright. Even when his baby sister, age 2, demanded a light saber of her own for her birthday (she chose a fierce red one) our eldest still insisted that STAR WARS was 'too much fighting', and for once he had no interest whatsoever in getting the same toy as his siblings.

So there we were, standing in front of the hip-hop/tap studio, with a dance teacher suggesting that we go home and watch STAR WARS right away so that my son would be able to help choreograph a dance to it. I didn't want to embarrass my little guy in front of his friends or teacher with the truth, so I just laughed out loud and said to my kid,

"Is it time? Okay then buddy, I'm fine with that - whatever you want! We can watch it as part of your birthday!"

"Yes!" my son shouted - because, at that moment, he'd forgotten about his deeper feelings and really DID want to watch STAR WARS. The peer pressure had done its work quite handily.

My husband and I really don't have a problem with those movies at all for our boys, so we agreed that we'd rent the film and view it after spending his birthday at the local theme park.

"Hurray!" our sons shouted.

Deep down I wondered about how this would play out. My three children could not be more different from each other, and each of them has incredible strengths. They have their own unique personalities; and their own disparate sensitivities.

In my gut, I felt that our 2 year old daughter would be more likely to enjoy a movie involving fancy guns and light sabers than the 6 year old... not because he isn't old enough; but rather because of who he IS. He is simply a more sensitive little soul, and watching violence has always really upset him. (I know, I know... go figure. Somehow it's all related, but I haven't wrapped my head around it yet.)

I could see that he'd gotten sucked into the hype in the dance classroom, but knew that the desire for STAR WARS wasn't instinctively his. For lack of a better description, peer pressure had pushed him toward something he wasn't a big fan of. I wondered whether his views would change once he actually watched the film.

I myself love the STAR WARS movies. They remind me of being a little kid and watching "The Empire Strikes Back" on Beta-Max with my friends. I thought it might be a real pleasure to sit with my husband and boys to watch this little piece of my own childhood come to life on the flat screen.

Why not give him the chance to decide for himself how he *really* felt about those movies?

Maybe it was time for him to graduate a bit from PBS Kids cartoons ~ which would be just fine by me. You can't keep your children tiny forever. Luke Skywalker seemed a perfect guide to usher my son into "real boyhood" at the age of six.

* * * * * *

That said,

I didn't want my kid to feel stuck doing something he wasn't (maybe) ready for. I decided to give him an Out just in case he needed it.

Very casually I mentioned to him that STAR WARS is a great movie but not always for everyone... and that if for whatever reason he decided it wasn't for him right now, that would be no problem.

"It's your birthday," I told him. "You can choose any movie you want to watch after we get home from our day-long adventure and have dinner. We can give STAR WARS a try and if you aren't into it for some reason, just let me know."

"I'm going to like it!" he replied confidently.

"Of course you are. I'm just saying, if for some reason you don't, it's no big deal. Just let me know and we'll make a change."

"Okay, Mom. You're funny, Mom."

* * * * * * *

Tonight when we arrived back home from a long day at the theme park, exhausted and starving, we realized that neither Amazon Instant Video nor Netflix Streaming Video offered STAR WARS Episode 4 - A New Hope. This is the first of George Lucas' original STAR WARS films, and my husband and I agreed that it was the one we most wanted to start our kids with.

Our good friends had recently watched this film with their own little boys and assured us that the violence was minor and mostly off camera. It seemed like the right film to give our boys a taste of the lives of Jedi knights.

So, after much telephoning ~ and nearly making a 30 minute drive to the bookstore in our city that said they had one copy available for purchase ~ my brilliant husband located a copy at the only DVD rental place left in our part of town. He took our sons to pick it up, and for the grand total of $2 we were the proud renters of this coveted episode for two full nights.

"Yay!!!!" the the boys cheered. "STAR WARS!!!"

We don't typically watch movies with our meals but tonight, my husband said we could make an exception and so all four of us (after putting the baby girl to bed) sat in our living room eating red wine pot roast and watching the opening credits of this timeless, classic movie.

I read aloud the opening credits and introduction to the story, and our four year old was instantly riveted and full of questions.

"Are those the good guys mommy?"

"Are those the bad guys mommy?"

"Who are those robots, mommy?"

"Where is the princess, mommy?"

"OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH.... is that Darth Vader mommy?"

The six year old stayed very, very silent though - especially during the scene where the Imperial army boards the rebel ship and starts shooting red light at the rebels, making them fall down.

Right around the time his little brother waxed rhapsodic about Darth Vader, the six year old turned to us - very pale - and quite urgently begged us to turn the movie off.

"I don't want to watch this!" he cried. "Please turn it off. Turn it off. This is going to give me bad dreams."

"But *I* want to watch it!" responded his little brother anxiously. "I really want to watch it!"

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" screamed the elder one. "I'M GOING TO HAVE NIGHTMARES. I DON'T WANT TO WATCH THIS MOVIE. I DON'T LIKE IT!"

"Well," I stood, and walked over to the DVD player, "today is your birthday. If you don't want to watch STAR WARS, that's just fine by me. On our birthday we get to pick the movie we watch."

"But Moooooommmmmmmmmy, I DO want to watch it!!!" whimpered the little brother.

"Why don't you and I watch it tomorrow night, while your daddy and brother do something else together?"

"Okay..." he quieted down. "What are we going to watch tonight then?"

"Curious George! I'd like to watch Curious George for my birthday!" interjected the bigger brother.

"Done," I smiled

... and that was that.

Within five minutes of turning on the new film, our oldest son had calmed down. The color had returned to his cheeks and he smiled and laughed at the antics of the little cartoon monkey on the screen. "You see, Mom," he turned to me... "I like this movie. He's actually a very cute little monkey."

"Yes," I nodded. "I agree."

* * * * * * *

Tomorrow I will write or call my son's dance teacher to explain the situation as it is... and request that they figure out a way to include him in the STAR WARS hip-hop dance routine without actually obliging him to watch the film.

As I've reflected on this experience as a mother, I can only conclude that each child we bring into the world is his or her own unique person. The same two parents with the same set of 'values' can sire three children, and each of those children will have different talents, interests, hobbies, friends, world views and sensitivities.

In the end, I don't think my son's aversion to STAR WARS or violent cartoons is a maturity thing. He demonstrates sincere maturity in many situations, and less maturity in others. I'd say he's pretty normal for six years old.

He simply has a thinner skin and lower tolerance for viewing aggression than some kids do... he's just a bit more sensitive, and there's nothing wrong with that.

My own mother (his grandmother) can't stand watching violence of any kind - and she is 73. She's seen plenty of violence in the 'real world' during her years of life, and yet she still doesn't intentionally expose herself to things that bother her.

Even I still turn my head briefly into my husband's shoulder when we watch certain movies. I just feel like life is rough enough and I want to relax when I'm on a date.

So, maybe our son gets his aversion to watching battle scenes from my side of the family.

In the end though, I'm just glad that my kid is getting to know himself better and making the choices that he feels comfortable with.

From my view, it isn't the capacity for initiating violence (or hardening himself to viewing it) that will make my son into a Man... rather it is his capacity to proactively *restrain* himself from committing acts of violence which demonstrates true strength and self-control.

Whatever his reasons may be for avoiding STAR WARS or other violent films or cartoons, I truly respect my son for articulating his stress and anxiety rather than just acting out ~ and for making a different choice that felt best to him on his birthday.

I hope that in years to come my son will manage to stay true to himself (and his deeper instincts) in this natural way, even when 'all of the other boys' may be heading down a more popular or commonly traveled path.

July 10, 2011 ~ Day 212 Happy Anniversary!

Well... less than nine hours to go.

Less than nine hours until we hit our six year anniversary.

Six years to the minute (5:01am) when the world tipped on its end,

and ~ holding hands ~ my husband and I fell off of a cliff into this amazing, vast, uncharted territory

...which turned out to be a Wonderland.

A little dazed, a little lost, we looked around to realize that the landscape had completely changed. We had changed too.

Something else ~ something profoundly new. We were no longer alone on this winding, hilly journey called Life. Someone had joined us... someone incredibly unique and extremely small.

He belonged to us, and we belonged to him. There was no beginning, no ending, just what was real - and HE, he was real.

This creature of such strong emotion ~ he sobbed uncontrollably at the least provocation. He giggled and grinned with the tiniest tickle to the tummy or feet. He snuggled, and cuddled and gazed with fierce concentration at us, watching our every move.

He was SO MUCH. It was SO MUCH.

He ate. How he ate! Ate as if food were a miracle, as though every sip of milk and each ounce of pureed carrots were manna from Heaven, nectar from some magical ancient vine.

Sleep? Um, no. Not so much. Not for about seven months. This child denied the importance of sleeping at night. His nights were meant to be enjoyed! Nights were his playground... his time to writhe and express intensely personal views. Exhausted, we mere mortals stumbled in his footsteps.

(Have you ever been sleep deprived for seven months straight? This may explain A LOT about the unexpected changes in my personality during that first year back at work... FREAKING TIRED.)

He grew.

To our awe, our amazement... we, who had barely managed to keep house plants alive... we managed to feed and water and nurture this baby boy well enough that he popped off the top of the pediatrician's growth charts. (It's all that 'love fertilizer' we covered him with, I liked to tease.)

We grew.

We grew entire chambers in our hearts that we'd never even imagined.
We grew patience without limit.

There is no way to understand this exact kind of love unless you've physically walked into a room that is covered wall to wall with feces ~ and when I say wall to wall, I mean floor, walls, toys, books, sheets, crib, paintings and YES, YOUR BABY, covered from head to toe in poop. Eating it. Laughing as he sees the look of horror on your face.

And realizing that while you would NEVER willingly clean up any other human being's feces spread over some of your most cherished possessions; that somehow it doesn't matter. You look at that little face and you know that you'd never fully understood love before a moment such as this.

So you dive into the muck with your kid... you tackle the mess one step at a time. Wash the baby, scrub the floors, launder the toys and bedding, throw away the books, wipe down the walls with bleach, and SING - the entire time you SING songs to this child, as he sits happily two feet away strapped into his rocker, loving every moment of excitement that this episode has brought into his limited existence.

An hour, two hours later - when you finally finish cleaning and look at your own hands... raw and ruddy from repeated scrubbing... you realize that your life will never be the same again.

You will never be that carefree, lighthearted, spontaneous woman of the past.

Then from his high chair, your son laughs out loud. Looking at his chubby little face you find yourself laughing too. Laughing so hard that tears stream down your face. The two of you share this moment, and you're struck by the powerful feeling that this child is teaching you to take life less seriously.

He's teaching you how to breathe.

* * * * * *

Six years have nearly passed since we became Mom and Dad.

Sometimes I wonder, if I met my old self on the street in passing - that girl I used to be at 17 or 22 or even 28 -

What would we talk about?

What would I think of the naive, romantic, freewheeling optimist I used to be?

Would I like her? Would I relate to her? Would I grin privately after hearing my own strong views about "What I'll be like as a parent"?

Would I envy my sister-self her freedom?

Would I pity her the loneliness? The solitude?

Here's what I think:

I think I would give that woman (Me, Version 1.0) a big, huge hug. The biggest hug ever.

Then, tenderly and with enthusiasm I would squeeze her hand, smile and say -

"Girl, whatever you do - hang on. You're in for The Ride Of Your Life.
(No, things will never be the same again. Yes, it is absolutely Worth It.)"

* * * * * * *

Happy Birthday, sweet son. I love you so much... we both do. May six years old be your happiest and most fulfilling year yet! No matter what may come, your Dad and I will be right there by your side along the journey.

To my husband ~ Happy 'Parenting Anniversary' honey. Six years in, and I really believe we're getting better at this every day! We've come such a long way... a lot to be proud of.