Bravery

Do you ever feel brave? I sure don't. I like things to be stable. I prefer when things are easy. I don't like confrontation. I don't like to admit when I am scared, overwhelmed, or uncertain. There are few people that I confide these things to - and I miss one of the bravest people that I have ever known fiercely.

Last weekend, my family and I went to the play Kazoo by a local playwright, Matt Falduto. The main character loses her mom and the story is about her best friends being there for her and helping her choose the bravery of living. I didn't lose my mom - I lost one of my best friends. She was brave. She fought cancer with a positive attitude, accepted everything that happened, and finally was free of suffering by passing on, but that left an emptiness in me, our circle of friends, and her family that will never be fully gone.

She was brave because she never stopped living. She was brave because she kept living even when she knew the cancer would win. She was brave because she admitted to her doctor that she was sad and crying a lot. She was brave because she asked for help when she needed rides to her appointments. She was brave because she called her close friends and family and said, "I have cancer." She was brave because she fought not one type of cancer, but two types. She was brave because she asked for prayers. She was brave for so many reasons and I want to be brave like she was, but I sure don't feel brave.

I am not fighting cancer. I don't have to be that brave. I need to make some life decisions that require bravery though. I want to be brave enough to quit my job and launch a full-time writing career. I want to be brave enough to not have a steady income. I want to live more courageously. I want to be brave.

Super Skate

I used to skate ALL. THE. TIME. I was never talented enough to skate backwards, but my mom would drop me off on a Saturday afternoon and I would spend the afternoon at the skating rink while she corralled my sister. Then the skating rink closed - and there was nowhere to skate nearby, so I hadn't found myself on skates for more than two decades when I bravely put them on last spring. It's like riding a bike - you may have a few tumbles, but you once you get going, it's second nature.

Remember my persistent daughter - she gets her persistence from her dad - and she nagged all day long to go skating. She did everything I asked her to with minimal complaint and she survived not being able to go to her brother's make up gymnastics class - so I decided that I could take both kids skating tonight. I had never been to the skating rink Super Skate in Cedar Rapids prior to tonight, but both of my kids had been there with daycare.

I knew that I expected an older skating rink, but I didn't expect to have wonderful customer service and a few songs that I actually knew - but none that date back to the Skateland days in Ottumwa. I chose not to skate tonight so that I could do some writing, do some applying to different jobs, and let my children exercise some independence.

Once I got my kids' skates laced up, I sent them out to practice skating. I knew that the snacking question would undoubtedly be asked, so I was proactive and ordered drinks and a cheese pizza for us. When I ordered, the staff were so kind and exceptional at their job. They made me feel welcome. The gesture of turning the menu so I "didn't have to read it sideways." Having a permanent marker to put my name on the lid of my cup, and their smiles made me feel welcome.

Their friendliness was very kind, very genuine - and maybe it's because I look like a tired mother who is just trying to provide some activity for her children, but it was so nice to be at a venue where the customer interaction was of a genuine nature.

I am happy to say that we now have another indoor activity that we can do as a family for the winter and the customer service is exceptional.

Books and Authors

My son says, "By Victoria and Pllbth Kann."

Then I say, "What about Pinkalicious?"

He laughs and then asks, "Mom, who wrote Silly Sally?"

I say, "I think it is written by Audrey Wood."

"What about the Gingerbread Man?"

Okay, kid, now you're stumping mom. I say, "I think it's an Aesop's fable, but I really don't know."

I am proud of him. I am glad that he is recognizing the author as an important part of the story. We talk about the title page, the author and illustrator. He enjoys reading and playing. All of his dramatic play tells a story.

This morning, while I was off doing my own thing, he was off building all the islands and headquarters for Inside Out out of Legos. He plays hard, but when it was time to clean up - he did not want to put the blocks away. I cleared off a shelf so that he can proudly display his masterpiece.

Now, if I could just capture all the wonderful stories he tells me and the emphasis that he puts on the words at exactly the right time, I would have a delightful arrangement of stories to bring humor and warmth to everyone.

Grocery Store Nightmares

It's after school and work on a Friday afternoon and I need to make a fast trip to the grocery store so that we can have something for dinner. I decide to pick up my children and let them go with me. Once there, I realize how big of a mistake this turns out to be.

By five o'clock the stimulant medication for ADHD is long gone and my daughter is ready to dart across a busy parking lot and plow a cart through the store. My son often follows his sister's lead, but thankfully pauses and waits for me to give him the signal to cross the parking lot.

I just want to get soup - just the kind that you pop in the microwave and drink directly from the cup. Near the soup is spaghetti-o's and macaroni. My son wants spaghetti-o's, until he sees the Trolls Easy Mac. My daughter has no desire for anything in this aisle. She wants a Lunchable. We go past chips, desserts ("Marshmallows!"), sunglasses from the Claire's display ("I just want to look at the pretty sunglasses"), bath bombs ("Put that back! We're not getting one"), and finally get to the aisle with the Lunchables. She hates bread - but chooses one with a sandwich. I point this out and she chooses nachos instead.

I'm frustrated at this point. As we work our way back to the front of the store, we see the bins filled with treats of special deals and my daughter pipes up and says, "Can I get a gift for Ms. T? She's so nice and I want to show her that she's special." I say no to the ridiculous requests that make no sense (dog food?), but I let her put an extra box of popcorn in the cart for her teacher and her brother's teacher.

We stand in line. There's something to touch everywhere around us. I give my daughter the directive to unload the cart on to the conveyor belt. Finally, it's our turn to check out and the cashier asks, "How are you doing today?"

I respond with, "I'm wishing I would've just left my children at daycare." As I am taking care of the business transaction, my daughter is right there asking for a sticker or a sucker. She knows the drill - and kindly includes her brother.

In my mind, picking the kids up and taking them with me to do the errands was a way to include them in some of the day-to-day activities of life. However, in reality, I think I'll just leave my kids at daycare next time.

Inside Out

If you have been around animated movies in the last five years, you will know of Frozen for sure, but you will also most likely know the movie Inside Out. Inside Out raised awareness of mental health and brought a really abstract concept to life.

It's Friday. I'm tired - and still not feeling "normal" - so I took the kids to the grocery store to let them find their own dinner tonight. Once home and our highly nutritious meals of Easy Mac and Lunchables were served and the popcorn popped, we settled in to watch Inside Out.

I'm struggling right now. The seasons are changing (heading to fall and then winter in the U.S.) Our daylight hours are much less and I haven't broken out my "Rise and Shine" yet - although I keep thinking that I should. I suffer from seasonal depression. It sucks energy and joy right out of you and all you can feel is sadness.

Inside Out precisely reveals why it is so important to have sadness in our lives - and yet most of us wish we were a little more joyful. Once Joy and Sadness disappear from headquarters, they are fighting like crazy to get back there. I think this demonstrates that those of us who do have depression - be it Seasonal Affective Disorder, Post-partum depression, manic-depressiveness, or any other form of depression, would love to be happy, but the emotions are pulled away from our conscience and anger, fear, and disgust run the show.

Right now, I am living in fear of the unknown. What if my plan doesn't work? What if it does? What if it changes twenty times between now and my deadline? What will happen if we have to move? What will happen if we stay where we're at? What will happen for the benefit of my family? What will happen as a detriment to my family? I can't answer these questions immediately, but I can tell you that my success rate has been 100% so far of getting through both difficult and exciting situations.

I am also angry that life can seem so lopsided in some people's favor. The reality is, though, that everyone has a struggle that they are dealing with and no one knows what someone else is going through. I remember being so mad that we had bought a starter house - and then the economy tanked. Now the trend is to build "tiny houses." Unfortunately for us, the trend didn't come at the right time, but our property is rented out and our tenant has been there for 5 years.

There are many things to be disgusted with in the world too, but generally I get most disgusted with myself because I believe that I should be able to be a superhero and keep everything together. I believe that I shouldn't have emotions, but should be constantly happy. That's not reality - nor would we appreciate the happy ones without the sad ones.

Overwhelmed

I think of the movie Clueless when I think of the word, "overwhelmed." The quote in the movie is, "You can be overwhelmed and you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed?" I have been overwhelmed for awhile. Occasionally I am underwhelmed (although that's not very often).

The list of reasons that I am overwhelmed include:

1.) Back to School

2.) A child with ADHD

3.) A husband with ADHD

4.) A new supervisor

5.) A mission to become healthier

6.) A desire to quit my job

7.) Being PTA vice president - and the president resigning

8.) Getting my children to daycare

9.) Paying for daycare

10.) A need to write

1.) Back to school means back to routines. It means that bedtime is critical and reading is important (okay - it always is, but sometimes we aren't very good about reading in the summertime). Our routines are categorized into before school and after school and each day I try to engage with my children about their day. Seesaw helps with this. I looked at my daughter's seesaw entry yesterday and wondered if she had meal worms in her class. She gave me an in-depth explanation of them. But remembering those details - even if they're at my fingertips can be overwhelming.

2.) A child with ADHD - This is one thing that overwhelming isn't quite enough of an adjective to describe. It is exhausting. It is frustrating - for both of us - because she literally forgets what she is doing. We're about 4 months into having her take a small does of a stimulant and it helps a lot. The resistance that I got from my husband was high because he was afraid that she'd be treated differently if she had to take medication. I'm more worried about her inability to focus and her distraction to other students when she makes noises she's unaware of. Also, now that her ADHD is more controlled, is it possible that she has anxiety? Sometimes they go hand-in-hand.

3.) A husband with ADHD proves to be a challenge on most days. He focuses on things that are interesting to him, like screens/TV/shows. The have-to stuff gets done, usually. But the projects are never-ending. They get started and then pieces of wood sit around in the dining room for months. We've had pieces of wood to build a sturdier bed frame in our bedroom for YEARS. It is overwhelming. He's attached to stuff (and we both are generational pack rats, but I am proud to say that with the help of some friends I got rid of a dump truck full of junk from our basement in January). Impulsiveness is rampant and I never know what new gadget may be waiting for me on the off chance that he decides to clean out his truck.

4.) A new supervisor is always challenging, but it's even more challenging when there's reorganization going on. There's a lot of invisibility in distance learning (my day job) and up until she became my supervisor there wasn't a lot of love for distance learning. She also went from my peer to my supervisor - so that makes things a little awkward as well.

5.) I am on a mission to be the best version of myself. It is hard. I usually do okay in some areas of health, but not others. For example, my mental health is usually okay, but getting exercise and eating well are not the strong points of my health. I recently finished the audiobook The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People and I looked at what was urgent and important in my life and am striving to live the quadrant II lifestyle. But this overwhelms me, because I feel like nothing should ever be urgent and important - unless there is blood, barf, or bullying involved - and that's not how society or my job works.

6.) There is never a good time to quit a job, but as I look at all the job advice out there and have recently taught a class on careers, I want nothing more than to take a huge, huge risk and become unemployed. The fact that I am professional staff and not faculty never made a big difference to me - until I had a conversation with a colleague about how what I did sounded an awful lot like teaching. Couple that with looking into what is in the faculty contract and then reflecting on working in three Learning Management Systems, grading more than 1500 chapter tests in a year, working with school districts, parents, students, and online facilitators - I am overwhelmed.

7.) At the time I was volun-suggested to be the PTA vice president for my children's school this year, I didn't think I would ever have to take the stage, especially not this early in the year, but our PTA president resigned due to personal reasons and the other three of us on the executive committee will be glad when we can host a special election on Monday and get a new leader - because I really don't want to be PTA president this year.

8.) Remember, I have a child with ADHD. Getting her up, out the door, with taking her medicine is usually challenging. Last year, I bribed her with donuts on the Fridays that were paydays. It was a good bonding time, but this year we've changed course and both she and her brother catch the bus from daycare. It's overwhelming to get the kids out the door with their shoes (on the right feet) and socks on and their backpacks. I've got to get myself out the door too - and try to take care of my morning writing and meditation needs. Overwhelming because neither are ready at the same time and by the time one gets to the door, the other is messing around. I know, normal kids, but it takes single step directions for my daughter to get her shoes on, get her backpack, and get to the door. For my son, it takes one!

9.) The cost of daycare is high. By the time I am done paying for daycare, I could probably have financed my entire post-graduate degree. I don't know a single person who wouldn't say the cost of childcare (especially quality childcare) isn't overwhelming.

10.) Finally, I am overwhelmed by the NEED to write. I am overwhelmed by sharing stories with others. See number 6. I want to quit my job, but I want to quit my job so that I can start a freelance career or publish a novel. Or both. The more I write, the more that I need to write.

Maybe while I contemplate all the reasons that I am overwhelmed, I will also contemplate if I can ever just be whelmed.

Justice

We were all tired yesterday. None of us slept well on Saturday night. Me, because I listened to three girls have a cousin sleepover experience; my daughter because she was part of the sleepover; my son because he slept over at Papa's house; and my husband because he took care of the dog in the middle of the night.

The girls went to bed sometime between 10:40 and 11, which for two eight year olds and a nine year old is fairly late. They were also up by 6:30 where they happily fulfilled their desire to make my husband and I breakfast in bed. The intention behind it was good. The reality behind it meant that we had a significant mess in the kitchen and they burnt at least one slice of toast. But, they were very excited to do something that felt adult-like! Memories can't be recreated, but messes can definitely be cleaned up and since the girls only get to spend quality time together, sibling-free, about once a year (or less), I can survive having a mess in my kitchen.

Once everyone was back with their respective families, I noticed a significant neediness from my daughter. She clung to me the way that she does when she's not received enough attention from mom and wants some one-on-one time. There's a few things that we've done - gotten our nails painted, went swimming, visited the library, etc. But there was one thing we never did - until yesterday. We visited Justice. 

Justice is a store that is marketed to preteens. (How the bleep did my little, tiny girl transition into more of a preteen?) She'd been asking me to go to Justice, but never suspected that I would actually take her. When we got to the mall (if you can still call it that with more vacant stores than occupied ones), we entered and her first thought was to ride the carousel. (Now that doesn't sound like a preteen). I walked her to the store and told her to read the title.

"J-u...jus...just...JUSTICE!" Her face lit up and she headed right for the backpacks that have the sequence sewn on to reverse the image. Each section of the store required concentration and silliness of trying on slap bracelets, and investigating how the stuffed animals fit in their carriers. At the puppies and the kitties, she asked how much they were - $9.90, I told her, followed by "You have enough money for the kitty or the puppy (I had given her $10), but not one in the carrier."

My eight year old, in true preteen fashion, replied, "You can put it on your credit card. You have enough money on there." 

Leave a comment of what your children have said that leaves your jaw on the floor and share this post so everyone can have a good laugh today.