A favorite

One of my favorite times with my family is dinner time. We sit around our table and talk. We share stories from our days, play Wiz Kidz, do Bible trivia, say our highs and lows, be goofy together.

Even if we are yelling at each other about getting to the table, or someone’s mad over what’s being served or what we might be doing after dinner, or if someone’s huffy about having to sit at the table at all, or even if we have to eat and run... we still sit together as a family, the four of us.  

And by the end of dinner, most of time, we all have had a wonderful time together. 

Infertile Couple Club

It’s a club in which no one wants to be a part. It brings heartache. Sadness. Sometimes it tears marriage apart. 

And yet that’s where I am. I just thought of that name for it. It’s been on my mind the past several months.  Ever since the disappointment with adopting.  

It’s been on my mind also because I’ve recently heard of a couple who is finally going to have a baby after joining the club and now a second couple might just be joining it. I ache for them. It’s a stinky club to have to join. 

Gary and I have been in it together for almost twenty-one years.

I want them to know they aren’t alone. There are people who understand the feelings that rear their ugly heads when you are in this club. 

But God knows our sorrows and He cares for us.  

 

When you can't

When you can't grow your family on your own, it brings about all sorts of feelings.  And they never go away.  They fade in and out.  A little thing could bring about a well of tears.  

We started on the journey to have children in 2003, and it just recently took a turn towards deep reflection.  

Going into our marriage, we knew we would not be able to grow our family on our own.  We tried artificial insemination once, sadness, but moved onto IVF.  Our two children were conceived together but born two years apart.  Such joy our children brought!  We tried three more times to use our embryos.  One took, but didn't last.  The other two were unsuccessful.  Deep sadness and disappointment.

As a girl, I wanted at least three children.  I grew up in a family with three children.  I always thought I would have several children. 

After several years, knowing we would not try IVF again, we decided we would adopt.  Excitement!  We started the process with Bethany Christian Services.  After we got through all the paperwork, they told us that it would be better for us to work on things with our daughter before we try to adopt.  Great sadness and sorrow.  

Why does God allow us to have dreams, only to tell us no?

Several years later, we decided we were ready to start the adoption process again with Bethany.  We attended the informational meeting and started on the paperwork.  A year and some months later, during our second home study interview, we were told once again that our family was not good enough to adopt.  No, they did not use those words, but that's what I heard; that's how it felt.  

Deep sorrow and sadness again.  And again.  And again.

Gary and I feel like we are done.  We are done trying.  Loud and clear, you don't get to have more kids.  Two is enough for you!

But yet, I still have this hope that one day God might answer that prayer with a YES!  And while I'm waiting, I choose to trust Him.  I know He has the best for us.  I will always look to Him.  He is my strength. 

And if He answers my prayer with no, I will still trust Him, knowing that He has the best in mind for Gary and me.  He is faithful.

Though this latest disappointment with Bethany, I have learned that I have held wanting more children too tightly and too close to the place that God should be in.  I am learning to be content with what I have and not to pine after that which I wish I had. 

It is hard, though. For hearing that someone is expecting or adopting still cuts me.  The wound is there, but it doesn't fell me. I have my God to carry me through all that is hard. 

I choose to focus on Gary and the two precious lives God has given us to raise to adulthood.  That can be enough.

Remembering

Gary was bored during yet another meeting that droned on. And on. So what did he decide to do?  Look up my blog.  And he started reading from the beginning.  Back in 2005.  

And it got me to thinking.  

I wrote on here a lot back then.  He was able to recount myriad things we did.  Vacations we went on, stories about our everyday happenings.

And it got me to thinking.

I stopped writing on here back a quite few years ago.  I felt I just didn't have much to write about or didn't have the time or just didn't take the time.  

And it got me to thinking.

I need to start writing on here again.  I liked that Gary could go back and read about our everyday happenings.  When he gets to 2015, it won't take him long to reach 2020.  

I told myself I was going to start writing on here more while ago.  That didn't happen.   I hope to do better now at writing about the things of our life so that years from now, we can go back and read it. 

Missing

This was actually written January 22, 2019.

My birthday is coming up.  And I'm missing my grandparents.  I'm missing our Arnold family get togethers.  We have had so many gatherings at my grandparents house in Jarrettown or Neshaminy Falls, in Elm Terrace, or my parents' or aunt's houses.

Three is it

So, before 2020, I had had no surgeries.  By the end of 2020, I will have had three.  I guess it's just the kind of year 2020 is going to be.

They are all elective but still sort of important.  For me anyway.  One to repair a deviated septum allowing me to breathe ever so much better.  One to repair a bunion allowing me to walk ever so much better.  And the last one to remove my gallbladder allowing me to digest food ever so much better.  

But I think three is good.  Three is enough. No more, thank you.

The diagnosis leading to the gallbladder discovery is welcomed.  Biliary dyskinesia - poor functioning of the gallbladder.  I have had symptoms for over 14 years.  I have reported my symptoms to several doctors and got the response, "Hmm.  I haven't heard of that before" then going on their merry way not trying to help me.

My GP, Dr. Shearer, at Detweiler Family Medicine listened to me.  She ordered ultrasounds, which came back normal.  She ordered a HIDA scan, which my gallbladder failed.  12% function is not a great amount of function.  The treatment for biliary dyskinesia is a cholecystectomy, (I like using all the medical jargon.)  I am glad to know I have a faulty gallbladder.  I do still wonder if that is the actual reason for my digestive issues, or if there is something more.  So, I will be seeing a gastroenterologist.  In addition, I have an appointment with a surgeon, because regardless if it's my issue or not, my gallbladder has one job to do, and it's not doing it.  So, it's fired and out it comes!

What they don't tell you

When you set out to start raising little people into adults, they talk about the cute little bundle you will bring home from the hospital.  They talk about what kind of diapers to use, cloth or disposable; whether to breastfeed or not; should you wear your baby or use a stroller.  They talk about their first teeth, when they might roll over, when they take their first wobbly steps.

What they don't tell you is that they will tell you how they hate you over and over.  That they say they wish they were never a part of this family.  They don't tell you you will lie in bed crying because of the choices they've made, how their words will be like a knife to your heart.

They don't tell you they will say the most hurtful of things, that they don't care how their actions affect you.  They don't tell you they might only do things if it's in their best interest.  That they will turn their backs on your affection and spurn your offer of help.

What they don't tell you is that through it all you will still love them with the fiercest love.  That you will still put their needs above your own.  What they don't tell you is that you will continue to sacrifice for them through the stormiest of attitudes and thickest of negative behaviors.  That you will continue to cry for them when they hurt and heal them as best you can.

What they don't tell you is that you will continue to teach them right from wrong, that they could never do anything to loose your love. 

Sleeping

For a while now, probably over a year, I have been waking up between 5:30 and 6:30.  Not everyday, but more days than I'd like.  Enough days that I wonder if I even need an alarm to make sure I awaken before my get up time of 7:00.  Is anybody else with me, that waking before your desired waking time is unacceptable, even if it's three minutes?

It's been driving me crazy!  I dislike it greatly.  It stinks.

I think the main culprit is the light coming in our window.  We have blinds on our windows and slant them down at night, which, of course, directs the light right at my face.  When I remember, I slant them up when we go to bed.  Take a guess at how often I remember to do that?  I don't slant them up right away, because I have this fear that people down on the street driving by at the posted 25 mph or the droves walking by or those living in the building across the street can see in.  I have actually gone outside at night to see if you can see in with them slanted up.  You can't, but how often does rational override fear?  You'd think with my ire of having light in my face while sleeping, I'd remember more.  But sadly, it just isn't so.

We could get black out curtains.  We aren't really interested in curtains, though.  We like the simplistic look of plain white two inch blinds at the windows.

What else?  Just move our bed, you're thinking.  We've been thinking that, too.  Except it isn't like moving doll house furniture, you know.  Besides the bed, we have to move a desk, a barrel back chair, two night stands (one of which might not fit in the room with a new furniture configuration,) a dresser, a small bookshelf, plus vacuuming behind said furniture once it's moved.  A real undertaking.  I am interested in moving our room around just to have a change too.  We just haven't figured out how to rearrange everything and then set aside the time to do it.

So, currently my solution is go to bed, hoping I sleep past 7:00 (since it's still summer that is possible.  Come work days, that plan is out the window.)  A winner of a plan, so far.  When I wake up too early, (and let's face it, it's a "when" not an "if") I put on my eye blinders, fluff my pillow and snuggle back down to get some more sleep.  At this point, I also have to not move to too much to fool my bladder that I'm not actually awake, lest it decides it needs emptying, before trying for more sleep.

Oh yes, I also have to not think too much.  If my brain gets started motoring, my sleep is blown and all I can hope for is to lie in bed wishing for more sleep, not getting it, while thinking about everything under the sun and wondering how long I can stay put before my bladder drives me scurrying down the hall for relief.

MercyMe

Two of my favorite songs of MercyMe.

What an August.

Obviously, I am not with it enought to post things when I actually write them.

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The end of July found us saying yes to having a French young adult named Ismaël, stay with us for a month.

It was quite the experience.  One I would do again, but next time with eyes wide open.

The goal for his visit was to practice his English and learn about America.  I think we helped him accomplish both.  He spoke English rather well.  And he got an ear full of American History.

Before his visit, I never really thought about the rich history in the Northeast.  Within three hours of our house, we can visit:  the city of our nation's beginnings, a winter encampment of our revolutionary solders, our nation's capital, the battlefield of the turning point of the civil war, the city where so many people first entered our country and where a grand symbol of liberty continues to stand.  And you can even dip your toes in an ocean. 

While Ismaël was here, we took him to see Philadelphia, Washington DC, New York City, Ocean City, NJ, Gettysburg, Valley Forge National Historical Park, the Poconos, Honey Brook, PA.  As Gary put it, we took more little vacations in August than we had in several years.

I am also glad Ellie and Josh had another young'un to interact with.  The dynamics definitely changed when a teen was with us.

Maybe you too could host a student from another country.

Organization

With the start of school, begins the deluge of papers.  Papers for the kids to sign up for things.  Papers to provide emergency information.  Papers to say I will volunteer.  Papers, papers, papers!

Our dining room table collects more clutter then usual. 

Both kids come home with a homework notebook, where they write their daily assignments.  Which currently needs to be signed every night.  We are not suppose to go asking about signing it.  That job is the kids' responsibility.  We give Josh more leeway with it than Ellie. 

I came up with a system.  I put a hanging file holder accessible in the dining room with a "to do" folder and a "completed" folder for each child.  They are suppose to put the notebook and anything else we need to look at, sign and return in the "to do" folder, then after signing it, we put it in the "completed" folder.  There is also a "reference" folder for papers that we need to ... reference.  Then when they pack their bags, they can easily get their papers and pack up and not be required to hunt us down.

I thought it was a great system.  But it hasn't really been working.  Certain children folk don't like it, balked at it emphatically, and don't really use it.  And the other one, keeps it in a binder and would rahter not have to remove it each time.  There has been a bit of a scramble in the morning, asking us to sign books at pack up time.  We need to rethink things.

Another area of striving for better organization is in lunch packing.  Myrtle sent me an article showing bins with prepackaged food/snacks for children to grab as they pack their own lunches (plus a whole host of other good lunch articles.)  I've tried to do my version of that.  Since I don't buy many prepackaged snack bags and such, I've purchased more plastic containers to package our own food.  While I'd rather not use plastic at all, I know the limits of our budget.  The plastic containers are not as good as stainless steel, but they are better then baggies or buying a lot of prepackaged food.  I have decided to just buy containers of yogurt instead of making it, because I know the kids will eat it.  I also will be buying granola bars, because again it is just easier to buy them. 

I am still planning to make my own fruit leather.  It is not hard to make, I have some good recipes and the kids will eat it. 

Now the next frontier is cleaning up after themselves.  When they go to bed, it is not uncommon to find their treasures strewn about.  I remind them throughout the day, but I forget to make sure it happens before they go up to bed.  Last night they didn't take care of some things, so I made them come back down after they were already in bed to take care of it.  Tonight they also both had to come back down to take of some things. 

A little at a time.

Anti-FRT exercises

Every body does it.  Some more than others.  Unfortunately, I have moved into the category of "more."

It finally occurred to me that while it is a natural thing, it's probably not really normal that often.  So I needed to do something about it.  Because walking around having to fart much of the time wasn't really working for me.  (I burp a lot too, but that is not as socially embarrassing.  At least not for me.)

Enter The Bowel Book.  Such a handy little book.  Chapter 4 - Exercising for Better Bowel Function.  Woo hoo!  We all could use some better bower function.  Bowels are rather neglected, I'd say.

I read through my options and chose 6.  I was all excited to get started on eliminating (get it?) my flatulence.  My plan was to do these everyday.  It's been at least five days and I have done them once.  Twice now, with this morning.

I decided to call them my anti-FRT exercises to be discrete.  And I wrote them on a green index card so I can think of Myrtle while doing my anti-FRT exercises.  I know she'll appreciate that!  (Her favorite color is green.)  She is the one who so generously gave me the book. 

Also, I need to remember not to do these exercises if I am going out in public soon after.  

I'm also hoping for a secondary outcome from all this, because the one exercise even says it will improve the waistline!

Here's to hoping and making my eliminatory organs happier!

Wolves

While searching for a movie on Netflix for us to watch, I remembered a movie I saw as a girl, probably when I was a little older than Ellie.  "The Journey of Natty Gann."

"America is in the depths of the Great Depression. Families drift apart when faraway jobs beckon. In this masterful, atmospheric adventure, a courageous young girl confronts overwhelming odds when she embarks on a cross-country search for her father. During her extraordinary odyssey, she forms a close bond with two diverse traveling companions: a magnificent, protective wolf, and a hardened drifter."

It occurred to me that this movie, and then Jack London's White Fang, and Farley Mowat's Never Cry Wolf were an integral part in forming my love of wolves.  The book Wolves, by Seymour Simon, introduces wolves to elementary school children using beautiful photography.

The wolf is a misunderstood, beautiful creature. 

Even knowing...

I wrote the below entry back in September.  I am unsure as to why I did not post it.  I did have to edit it a bit. 

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Even knowing that there is a book and audios to help me be a more patient, calm mother helps me be a more patient calm mother.

Gary and I are taking an 3 month online class by Dr. Laura Markham, called Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids.  Dr. Laura also has a book by the same name. For the class, we get an hour long audio lesson, questions to answer about the lesson, 3 minute daily inspirational audios, suggested reading from the book (which came with the course,) and a practice exercise to do with our children.  And access to a closed Facebook page for all the parents taking the class.

I've read the book.  And we've listened to one and third audio lessons, and a handful of daily inspirations. 

I am now the world's most peaceful parent.

That last sentence is a lie.

I am becoming a more peaceful parent.

That one is true.

Gary and I want to listen to the entire audio lessons together in one sitting.  But finding an hour together has been proving difficult, without it being so late.  We fall asleep while listening or we are so spent mentally, that we have no energy to listen.  (I think we will be breaking up the listening.)

I have been frustrated at our lack of progress.  But as Dr. Laura says, the audios are ours to download and save.  If it takes us longer than three months, it's okay.  She's all about not pressuring ourselves into something that will bring stress not peace.

Today I realized that even knowing I read the book and can refer to it again and have the audios saved to listen to when we can, has helped me be more mindful of self regulation and how I talk to the kids and handle their upset.

I also have a mantra.  At first the idea of a mantra felt too weird, too touchy-feely.   But on the Facebook page, someone asked about what mantras others were using.  I skeptically took a look at the comments. 

I know have several phrases, repeated over and over again, that I say to myself or out loud if needed, when I am triggered and need to work on self-regulation.  (I still don't like the word mantra.)  "It's not an emergency."  "I choose love."  "I can do this."  "Breathe."  To name a few.  These are all in place of yelling at, belittling, shaming, blaming, or making my kids feel guilty.  Or any others who are in the line of my upset.

And of course, I get plenty of practice.

So when I blow it one time, there's always a next time to practice my stuff.

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Update:
I can say that we have not progressed much in the lessons.  We still continue to be spent mentally each night, by the time the kids are in bed.  And now with Gary's new job, he is even more so.  Being an introvert, interactions with people drain him.  He has many more interactions at this new position.  Many more then he realized. 

Falling apart?

I find it interesting that my best friend and I both think the other is a better friend.

Maybe that's what makes us a good friends?

I read her blog today.  I know, Myrtle.  SHOCKER! I'm not behind. 

Well, actually I read today's and finished the one before it. 

Myrtle lives with chronic disease.  Several in fact.  I one that rears its ugly head the most is dysautonomia.  (Even spell check doesn't recognize it.)  I usually don't know what to do or say to help her.  She's told me that just listening is good.  Or not seeing her as her illness.  Myrtle has referred to another blog (www.livingwithbob.com) written by another (Michelle) with dysautonomia, but I've only read what she has referenced.  Today I decided to go to the blog and read.  I came across this passage about stress and what constitutes giving up and falling apart:

Illness is stress. Chronic illness often means that stress will never fully go away. People aren't falling apart when their stress levels reach critical levels. They aren't giving up when they voice that stress and can't hold it all together. They are human beings, experiencing real and valid emotions to a prolonged highly stressful situation. We should not be jumping on them with judgements about giving up and the evil of falling apart, but offering them support, a place to voice their fears and sadness, and direction to appropriate mental health groups to help them navigate the complex and stressful world of chronic illness.

In my life, I relate most things to parenting. So for me, it's okay to fall apart in my parenting journey.  Michelle says, "There is strength in giving voice to the struggle."

I like that.

The boy with the broken arm, no more

Today, he's whole again.  The cast is off.  He's FREE!

It's been an interesting journey, this broken arm world.  A bit inconvenient, but not unworkable.

It was originally hard for Josh to deal with having his dominant arm in a cast past his elbow.  He felt like he couldn't do anything.

But he learned.  He adapted.  But he didn't really slow down.

Day 4

Today is Day 4 of summer vacation. 

It's been a long 4 days.  The three of us being home all day with each other is proving difficult. 

I was really looking forward to having the summer with my kids.  Last summer, we had the store, and I had a plan for where the kids would be for all 10 weeks.  By the end of summer last year, with the kids being gone one at a time or at camp or somewhere else, I felt like I had missed out of a lot with them. 

I didn't want that again.  Except after Monday and Tuesday, I wanted to ship them off. 

But not really.  I want to be with Josh and Ellie, I just want a lot less controversy and more cooperation and getting along. 

I am still looking forward to having the summer with my kids. 

The bathroom floor is gritty

It was also akin to a pond. 

Yesterday, the kids' job was to clean the bathroom sink.  They turned it into scrubbing the tile floor.

I asked what they were doing, they evaded the question and shut the door.  Since they are not the quietest children, and scrubbing isn't a silent activity, I already knew what they were doing.  And I peeked under the door and took a picture.

I let them go.  I did remind Ellie of the time, because she wasn't completely ready for school yet.

For half an hour they cleaned. 

At 8:30 I told them it was time to clean up.  Around 8:50 I hear Ellie frantically calling me from the bathroom.  She has just flushed the toilet.

I open the bathroom door.  And see water.  Covering half the floor.  Overflowing the toilet. 

I freak out. 

And then grab for towels.  Lots and lots of towels.  I ordered Ellie to get towels.  I ran around the house getting towels.  And the plunger.

And I start sopping up the water.  And incredulously demanding how all this water got on the floor?!?!

Josh got upset with my tone.  I got better control of it and ensured him I wasn't mad, just flabbergasted at the amount of water.  And both empty containers of cleaner.  About three cups of baking soda and borax.  And my homemade toilet fizzies on the floor. And the clogged toilet. Again.

And we were supposed to be walking to school, not sopping up gallons of water.  And unclogging a toilet.

Somehow I managed to get all the water wiped up, the toilet unclogged and the kids to school on time.

After school, the kids finished cleaning the floor, since while I did get the water sopped up, the copious amounts of baking soda/borax cleaner were still coating the floor. 

And although Ellie mopped the floor, I mopped the floor, josh vacuumed the floor and I vacuumed the floor, it is still gritty.

But it is clean and whiter.

Poor Lilly

On January 14th, Lilly completely tore her CCL.  Her knee ligament.




Josh made her comfortable the next morning.

And wrote her a get well card.

We took her to our vet.  A $3000 surgery.  I talked with my cousin, a vet.  We took her to another vet.  $2200 - 2500 surgery.

We decided to have the other vet do the surgery.  This past Monday.

Now she gets to wear a fun cone and lay around a lot.  Wait.  The laying around a lot is not new.

And Ellie wrote her a get well card. 

She goes back next week to have the stitches removed. 

And in case you were wondering, it's super fun to try and lift a 95 pound dog up and down four steps for her to do her business.  Thankfully she didn't take long to go down the steps herself.  And last night she went up by herself.  She doesn't care for the towel around her middle lifting option. 

And until she can walk on the knee well, she doesn't get to go upstairs at night.  So one of us has been sleeping downstairs with her. 

Not much

My friend is struggling mightily with losing who she used to be.

I struggle with whom I have never really become.