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No Points for Anxiety…Today…

Today is E’s 4th day of kindergarten. There’s this whole new morning routine that we’re all getting used to. Waking up early, rushing through breakfast, getting everyone dressed. Why does kindergarten start so early in the morning? Ugh. Anyway, for the past three days, we’ve all gotten out of the van and walked E to her classroom. Today, I decided I would drop her off in the drop off line because I had to get back home to straighten up the house because someone was coming over.

We kept talking about how when I drop her off, she will go to the cafeteria and find her teacher, Mrs. H.

On the way to school, I asked her, “So where do you go when I drop you off?”

She thinks for a moment, “uhh…I don’t remember…”

The cafeteria. You go to the cafeteria.

“Oh! Right!”

So I ask her, “And what’s your teacher’s name?”

“Uhhh….I don’t remember…”

By that time, I was getting anxious. What if she forgets again (after I just told her for the tenth time)? What if she doesn’t ask for help? What if she gets lost? In a desperate attempt to not let my anxiety control my life—I always freak out about things and imagine the worst case scenario—I quickly got a picture of her (just in case) as we stopped in the drop off line. Once I opened the door and there was a lady there to help her, I told her again (where the lady could hear me) where she goes and her teacher’s name. Hoping for the best, I took off and came back home.

There’s an app called ClassDojo that E’s teacher uses. It lets parents and teachers communicate easily and parents can keep track of how many positive and negative points their child gets each day. They get 2 points just for being there! So, I opened up the app, and saw E’s 2 points for attendance for today! She made it to the cafeteria! She made it safely to her teacher!

I’m so glad I thought to check the app so I don’t have to worry all day about whether she made it to the right place this morning. And she got there in time to be counted present.

2 points for me, 0 points for anxiety. This time…

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Being brave and afraid and letting go

I mentioned in a previous post (Bacon Pancakes) that my MOPS group has a special meeting every spring called Tea and Testimony. It’s a chance for ladies to get up in front of the group and either give a testimony of their lives, or just give an inspirational speech, or whatever.

In my second year of MOPS, the theme for the year was about bravery. “Be you, bravely.”

The following is the speech I gave.  And it was terrifying.

This year we’ve been talking about being brave.  I thought a lot about what I wanted to talk about today.

Should I talk about all the times I’ve been brave? No. That would only take one minute. I could probably count the number of times I’ve been brave on one hand.  I figured I should speak for more than one minute.

I decided I needed to know exactly what “brave” means before I could talk about it…in front of people…who are staring at me…

So I looked it up.  It means bold, daring, heroic, or fearless.  … someone who is brave possesses or exhibits courage.

So I looked up courage…

Courage means “the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, without fear.” Now, I’m no dictionaryologist (is that a word?), but I have a problem with that definition.

Brave being synonymous with fearless doesn’t really work for me. There are times I’ve experienced bravery, but still was afraid.  I believe people can be afraid and at the same time be brave.

When I was 21, I flew on an airplane (for the very first time in my life) to South Korea.  I was going to be there for a whole year.  I didn’t go with family; I didn’t go with friends.  I went alone. To teach English to school kids.  I think going to Korea was brave. A new country, culture, a new job.  That takes bravery.  But I was still afraid.  I was afraid the plane would crash.  I was afraid a seagull would fly into the engine and we would fall to the bottom of the ocean.

I was afraid that once I got there, they wouldn’t want me to teach anymore, and they wouldn’t pay for me to come back home.  So I would be stuck walking home. … yes, I would have to walk home. From South Korea.

My plan was I would have to sneak across the border into the North.  If the North Koreans didn’t capture and torture me, I would continue north, and find the Pacific Ocean.  I would just follow the coast up through China, Russia, until I got to that part where Russia and Alaska almost touch.  Surely I could swim across the Bering Straight! I could swim 51 miles in freezing water, no problem.  I would have to.  That was the best way to walk/swim home.  Once I got into Alaska, I would be safe.  I could hitchhike to a city and call my family and then they could come get me or buy me a plane ticket home. The delusions of a paranoid schizophrenic are very interesting…

None of that happened of course.  I made it to South Korea just fine.  And they wanted to keep me there to teach.

Although, after a few days of teaching, I told myself, “I can’t do this.  When Mr. Lee picks me up for church, I’ll tell him I have to go home.”  Well, when Mr. Lee picked me up, I was too chicken to tell him.

I learned how to be brave.  Every day for a year, I taught english to people. At church, at school, when I walked around the neighborhood.   I ended up having a really good time, and I was so glad I went and that I stayed! And I was so super excited that I didn’t have to walk home from Korea. I was so happy that I didn’t have to swim across the Bering Straight.

While I was in Korea my mom was diagnosed with oropharyngeal cancer. Before I got home, she had gone through a successful treatment.  The cancer was gone.  I can’t imagine what she had experienced.  She was definitely brave—going through several procedures to prepare her for radiation therapy and chemotherapy.  A feeding tube, a port, a tracheotomy, having all of her teeth pulled out.

I’ll fast forward several years.  When Evie was younger she had a lot of ear infections, not unlike what many children go through.  She had tubes put in.  After we moved to San Antonio, she started failing hearing tests.  After her third failed test, the doctor recommended having a more complete and accurate test done at the hospital.  After that test was performed, the doctor said everything was normal.  The reason she was having hearing issues was because one of the tubes had fallen out, and there were pressure issues.

The point of this story, though, is not Evie’s ear issues.  Before she started failing the tests, we were learning sign language.  As we discovered she was failing the hearing tests, we continued and studied even more.  We wanted to get her in a sign language class with other children learning it.  There was only one teacher in this area and she had a huge waiting list.

I had the opportunity to become a teacher, so I took it.  And now I’m certified to teach children sign language.

It’s weird because I’m afraid of talking in front of people.  I guess I had some teaching experience from my time in Korea, but I still was terrified.  I HATE talking in front of people.  Like I’m doing right now! I’m so scared right now to be talking in front of you! But when they asked for people to volunteer to speak today, I knew I needed to do it.  I don’t know if you’ll even get anything out of this, it’s just something I felt like i needed to do.

I don’t feel brave.  Ever.  I want people to think I’m brave. I want to look brave and act brave, but I’m really not.

I’d like to go back to the story of my mom.  And I’ll tell you one more example of how I’ve truly been brave in my life.  After her cancer came back, she couldn’t go through any more treatments.  I don’t know the reasoning behind this.  I went to my parents’ house one day to visit, and my mom couldn’t talk at all.  She could barely breathe.  She couldn’t get up to use the restroom, so they had her on a seat where she could just go.

I visited for a few hours, and then I went back to my house, an hour away.  I had to work the next day.  I felt like a coward for not staying there, for not skipping work to be with my mom in her final days.  When I got home that night, I prayed a simple, but brave (at least I think it’s brave) prayer.   This was my prayer:

God, I love my mom.  I want her to get better. I don’t want her to die. I know you have a different plan, though.  I don’t want her to suffer anymore.  Will you please take her home so she will feel better, and not be in pain? Please make her die. She’s in so much pain, and I want her to feel better, and you’re the only one who can help her.  Please take her home.

Two days later, my mom died.  The bravest thing I’ve ever done in my life was telling God to make my mom die. To let go of my mom.

It didn’t feel brave. I was terrified. To live the rest of my life without my mom. I needed her. And I still need her.  I do believe it was brave, but I was afraid. Afraid to spend the rest of my life without my mom.

So, going back to that definition of bravery, or courage: “the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, without fear.”

I think the part that says “without fear” should be removed.

 

Oh, and I definitely belong in Gryffindor!

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The Parent in Heaven Talk

So now that Mother’s Day is over and the focus will soon turn to fathers, I’d like to take a moment to talk about what happened in our house a couple weeks ago. We were sitting at the table working on cards to mail to all the mothers in our lives. We made one for Mister Face’s grandma, his mom, and my step-mom. As I wrote the names and addresses on each envelope, E4 would talk about who each person was. When we got to my step-mom’s card, I told her it was for Grandma.

E4 asked me, “Are Grandma and Grandpa Sir your mom and dad?”

I explained to her that Grandpa Sir is my dad, but Grandma is my step-mom, not my real mom.

So, she asked who my mom is.

I knew the day would come. I knew someday I’d have to sit down with my children and talk to them about my mom. And no matter how many times I’d rehearsed what I would say, I wasn’t prepared. I practiced my speech over and over in my head. I practiced not crying. I knew what to say. But when the time came, I was paralyzed. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t hold back the tears.

So…after a few seconds (which really lasted about 10 years), I told E4 that my mom is in heaven with Jesus.

E4: Why? (Classic 4 year old…)

Me: Well, she got sick.

E4: And she died?

Me: Yeah.

And that was enough for her. We spent the next 30 minutes or so looking at pictures of my mom on my computer (because E4 looks exactly like my mom!)  I know I’m not off the hook for talking to my kids about my mom. I know E4 will want to know more. And then, when the twins start getting curious about family, I’ll tell them too. Maybe next time I’ll be better prepared? Probably not.

So, about my mom: she was pretty incredible! She raised 4 kids and didn’t go insane! Some days I wonder how she did it. I find myself needing and wanting to talk to her more and more every day. There are so many things I need to ask her about raising kids. Sometimes I feel alone in this because she’s not here. I mean, I KNOW I’m not alone! I have Mister Face, my dad, my mother-in-law, etc. I know I can ask them things and I respect everything they tell me, but it’s just not the same as talking with my mom. I know if she were still alive she probably would have moved in with us by now just so she could be here with these crazy kids all the time. She would just love these 3 kids, and I know someday she’ll get to meet them.

I don’t know if how I approached the very short conversation with E4 was the best, but it worked for now. It was easy enough for her to understand. But, now that I’ve done it once, maybe next time will be a little easier. Yeah right.

Don’t worry, Dad! You’ll get your very own blog post—2 weeks AFTER Father’s Day.

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Bacon Pancakes

Every year, my MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group has a meeting called Tea and Testimony. It’s a meeting where we have a catered brunch from the most amazing restaurant in San Antonio, Magnolia Pancake Haus. The bacon pancakes are the best! Anyway, after we eat way too many carbs, moms have the opportunity to get up in front of everyone and give their testimony, or just talk for a few minutes. Two years ago, our theme was Be You, Bravely. I spoke about a few things, including learning sign language, my mom, and my adventures in South Korea, and how I might have to walk back home—from South Korea. Rrrrriiiiiiiiight……

Whatevs….so, Tea and Testimony came back around this year, and I thought I’d give it a go again. Get up in front of people. And talk. Yeah, I’m so good at talking in front of people! I’m so amazing! Tremendous! So, luckily, (but oh so sad!) the babies got sick and I couldn’t go to the meeting. I was so sad because I wanted to fill up on carbs that morning. Anyway, one of my friends said she would read my speech for me since I couldn’t go.

Below is a version of what I wrote and she read. It’s not really a testimony, just something I wanted to say to everyone.

Moms, we have a hard job! First of all, we carry these precious little, tiny humans in our bellies for a while. That’s hard, because…heartburn, puking, constipation, and other gross things. And then after that joy is over, we have these teeny, tiny, fragile, little things that we have to keep alive. Thank goodness they’re not plants! Can I get an amen?

Infancy is hard because you don’t know why they’re screaming. Are they hungry? Do they have reflux? When’s the last time they pooped? Why did they poop 12 times today? When will they stop eating every 2 hours? (Mine still do this and they just turned one!) When they can finally hold up their heads, sit up, crawl, walk, you feel a little bit of relief. There’s always a little relief after every milestone, I think, but that relief is…brief…as we look to the next big thing these kids have to do.

My twins just turned one year old, and let me tell you, I sang Hallelujah, Praise be to God in the Heavens, thank you sweet Baby Jesus in Heaven! I remember, when the babies were just a few weeks old, telling another MOPS mom that I just wanted them to be a year old already!  Then we had to go through harnesses because they both had hip dysplasia. Harnesses, and sponge baths, for eight looooong weeks. After they got done with the harnesses, helmets! Helmets for 3 months! (They have beautiful heads now!)

After we got done with helmets, and had no more weird attachments on the babies, the next 5 months went by soooo fast! And I found myself wishing they were still little babies! Mostly because they can crawl and they get into everything now… Let me tell you…babies think the dog’s water is, like, the most amazing thing ever!!

Anyway, the point of this is not how ridiculously incredible my kids are…and they’re pretty incredible!…but the point is, I never would have survived this first year with twins if it weren’t for my mom friends. Ladies, we need each other! We need the hugs, no matter how much we hate hugging! We need prayers. We need food!

When the twins were born last year, so many people stepped up and brought us meals! I can’t even tell you how helpful that was! And when I was in the hospital for a week for that crazy infection after the babies got discharged, several people came to visit me, brought snacks, games, and fun things for E4. That poor kid had a really rough few weeks as a new big sister.

But I needed those visits from friends. And now, even though they’re getting bigger, I still need visits from friends. I need people to come to my house; I need to go to other mom’s houses. We need friends that we can turn to when we need to vent, or brag, and even when we have no idea what’s going on with our kids.

We need to get over our fear of being around other people; get over our feelings of inferiority; get over our hurt feelings of being left out. We need to stop comparing ourselves to other moms.  And we need to make friends. MOPS is a good place for that. And I know we can still feel lonely even in a group like this, but I think if we try, if we really try—and sometimes it’s HARD! It’s hard to try to make friends—we can have a few close friends we can turn to when we need help. And it goes both ways! When our friends experience tragedies—life changing tragedies—we are there for them. We take them meals; we go sit with them; we pray for them; we love them. Let’s be friends. Let’s pray for each other, and love each other, and laugh with each other, and for the love of all that is good and holy, let’s eat together!

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Feeding Monsters

Okay, so kids eat. A lot. Even babies! You fix them a sandwich and 10 minutes later they’re asking for something else. Does anyone else’s kids do this?

E4, for the past few weeks, has been eating everything in sight. Two waffles for breakfast, then 10 minutes later, “I’m hungry. Can you get me something to eat?” After a mid-morning snack, “I’m still hungry. I want something to eat!” Then lunch is large for a 4 year old. PB&J, yogurt, and usually something else. After ten minutes, she’s begging for more food.

The afternoon is the worst since there’s more time between lunch and dinner. It seems like she asks for a snack every 10-15 minutes. It’s excruciating some days.

And then there’s the babies…. A(X) is pretty happy with regular bottles, but she’ll eat other foods if I give them to her. But then there’s A(y). He’s a monster. At the tender age of 9 months, he started refusing bottles in the hope that I’d give him cheeseburgers. This kid is ready for Wing Stop. He’ll drink from bottles still, but he would rather have real food.

It feels like E4 and A(y) are already teenagers who eat constantly. I understand they’re kids and they need to eat a lot to grow, but daaaang! These kids eat a lot and they’re constantly hungry.

So, the other day I came up with a plan. It has worked well for E4. Kids love stickers, right?! I made a sticker chart for her (beware, it’s like…anti-Pinterest…) Throughout the day she can have 3 meals, and 2 snacks. And each time she eats a meal or a snack, she gets to put a sticker in the appropriate spot on her chart. So far it’s working wonderfully. It’s like a potty chart! But with food! She still asks for something to eat in between, but I tell her to go look at her chart. “You can’t have anything until dinner now since you just ate your snack…”

I try to keep A(y) and A(X) on the same schedule but we don’t do a chart for them yet since they’re only 11 months and 3 weeks old. (Oh, no! Guess we better start planning a party!!) They don’t care about stickers yet. All they care about is cheerios, graham crackers, and pooping through their diapers.

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When you think you have nothing left

I remember the night well—even though you’d think I wouldn’t since we’d just gotten home with 2 newborns straight from the hospital, and I was exhausted beyond all reason.

I fell down into bed, and said “Can you feed them? I need to get some sleep or I’m gonna get sick. I have nothing left.”

Two hours later I woke up in terrible pain and was having recurring fevers and chills. I knew exactly what it meant, since the same thing happened after E4 was born, only not as severe. I had some weird infection. I called my doctor’s office knowing what they would tell me (go to the ER), but I hoped they would say something different, I guess.  We woke up my (amazing) mother-in-law and asked her to take care of the babies during the night, and my husband (Mister Face) drove me to the ER at midnight.

I was tired and I just wanted to sleep. I wanted to sleep for a year. I said I’d had nothing left but the universe said, “Oh yeah? Take this!” I had a bad cellulitis infection above my c-section site. It was a serious kind of infection that caused me to be hospitalized for another week. We’d just gotten home from the hospital with the babies, and here I was, back in the most uncomfortable hospital room that had the worst lighting—the kind to cause migraines…

Luckily they put me back in postpartum and the babies (and E4) were allowed to come in and stay. My mother-in-law was up there too and I’m so glad she was there to help.

The point of this story is really that even when you think you’re too tired to keep going, you have nothing left…you find out that you do! Sure, you’re still tired, but you always have something to give. You always will find a way to take care of your kids. You always have something. It may be very little, but it’s there.

Moms, we’re tired. The kids don’t sleep well, they’re sick, you’re sick, you have a migraine (but not anymore! See my previous post about the Daith piercing!!), your back hurts… But somehow we find the energy to keep going. We get those kids dressed, we keep their butts clean and dry, we wipe the vomit off our shirts and we go!

Over the past year this has really hit me hard. I’ve struggled with feeling bad about how I parent these 3 crazy pants kids. I think I’m not good enough, that I don’t do enough with them. (Will my almost kindergartener ever learn to read?) But I have to slow my brain down, stop thinking that I’m not enough, and remember that my kids need me to be who I am right now. I’m exactly the mom they want and need. And that’s enough. And when I say I have nothing left, it’s just not true.

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Daith piercing for migraine

I’ve suffered from migraines for as long as I can remember—even as a little kid. I remember spending an entire day on the couch writhing in pain. As an adult, they became more frequent. There’s nothing worse than a headache so bad you can’t open your eyes, and you almost always vomit from the pain. I have several triggers. Certain noises, smells, and lights make my head hurt so bad.

It’s even worse when you’re pregnant and you can’t take anything other than acetaminophen. Acetaminophen doesn’t even touch a migraine. I even had a migraine when I was in labor with E4. Worst thing ever. I pretty much had a migraine every other day while pregnant with the twins. I finally found something that helped a little bit—acetaminophen with caffeine. Caffeine while pregnant? (Ssshhhh!!!!)

While looking for ways to relieve my headaches without taking medicine that could hurt the babies, I came across the daith piercing. Apparently there’s a pressure point on your ear—the innermost cartilage fold—that helps relieve migraine pain. When that area is pierced, it’s called a daith piercing, and supposedly, it’s supposed to help with migraines. It’s not proven, so I’m not telling you to go do it…just telling you my experience.

So…once the babies were born and I was done breastfeeding, I decided to try out this piercing. I went to a tattoo shop with a friend and got pierced.

And you know what? I haven’t had a migraine since I got the piercing. 5 months or so. Migraine free.  It’s amazing! There have been a couple times where I got close to having a migraine, but I was at work and couldn’t take any medicine for the headache. As soon as I got home from work, I took medicine and the headache was gone within 15 minutes. 5 months without a migraine is so awesome, you guys!  Anyway, that’s my story. Now you can decide if you want to get one or not! Here’s a pic!

 

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Confession time!

We moved to San Antonio almost 4 years ago. We already knew one family here, thank goodness. In an attempt to plug in to this new, big city, I joined a group of women who have young children (MOPS—Mothers of Preschoolers). Before we moved here, I had a full time job, and didn’t need to find another full time job here, so I wanted to have a community of people who are in the same stage of life as me. I needed this group and these friends because being a stay at home mom is not easy. In fact, it’s the hardest job I’ve ever had! Making sure to have healthy meals and snacks for this little human who very recently had stopped needing bottles— what do I feed this thing? it’s only got 4 teeth!—and keeping her entertained all day long until Daddy (Misterface) gets home is hard work! Being a part of a group of ladies in my exact situation was good because we get to tell each other about the horrible poop diapers and they totally understand and don’t get grossed out! They understand all the bad mornings, kids who won’t eat, tantrums, and screaming babies.

Here we are, 4 years later, and I’m a member of two groups that I go to at least monthly. MOPS and a Mothers of Multiples group (twins, remember…). I joined the Mothers of Multiples group around the middle of my twin pregnancy. If anyone understands twin pregnancy and raising twins, it’s these ladies. Because they, you know, have twins… So they’ve been there. They know. Or they pretend they know, like most parents out there. Me included.

So, it’s time for a confession. I’m a shy person. Surprise! Sometimes painfully shy, and socially awkward. I find it hard going to these meetings. I go in, sit down, and wish for two things at once—that someone will notice me and say hi, and that no one will see me and I won’t have to speak. But I go in nonetheless. I do it to try to improve my social skills and not be so awkward. I also am human and have the need to feel involved and desire friendly relationships. I go to these groups to try to help myself. I don’t want to be a hermit. I want to have friends and get out of the house occasionally. When I go to meetings, I feel so weird, so I try to use humor to help. Sometimes it works, and sometimes I feel like an idiot. Almost always, at the end of the meetings, I leave quietly, not telling anyone, because I don’t want to attract attention, or have to speak. Painfully shy.

In one of the groups, people have (very recently) come to me and introduced themselves, and saying “welcome, new mom!” I’ve been a member of the group for over a year… and I’ve already met you! Don’t you remember? It’s very hard to go back when it feels like I’ve got to introduce myself every time and only a handful of people remember me.

Anyway, even though I feel awkward and try to avoid conversation at all times, I’m glad I’m a member of these groups and I torture myself by going to the meetings. I’ve made a few friends, and know I can always ask questions and get help if I need it. I’m glad people see me and say hello and engage in conversation. Even though it’s hard for me and I don’t want to do it, it gets me out of my comfort zone (synonymous with “my bed”) and gets me talking. Maybe one day I won’t be so shy and socially awkward and can laugh and talk to others without feeling so weird. But it is not this day….

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Signing Time and Learning ASL

We first heard about Signing Time and learning American Sign Language when E was a little over 1 year old. A friend introduced us to the program and we soon bought it for ourselves. E liked watching the videos and soon became very good at signing. I wanted to get her involved in signing classes with other kids her age, but there aren’t many Signing Time instructors in San Antonio, and the one I found had a waiting list.  I decided to become a Baby Signing Time instructor so I could have my daughter in classes with other kids her age, and so I could help out other parents who wanted to get their kids into signing as well.

Benefits of Signing with babies and toddlers:

• Children have the capacity to understand, learn, and communicate before they develop the ability to speak.

• Babies can sign at around 6-14 months, in some cases earlier – which is generally before they master the ability to speak clearly.

• Even when children do begin speaking, their speech is not always clear. Signing is a second way to get that information from them.

• Signing reduces tantrums and frustration. When you understand what your baby wants, you don’t have to guess.

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Winter/Spring 2016

Our Craft & Sign classes were a success last fall! We had lots of fun learning new signs and making fun crafts to accompany our new signs.

Right now I’m busy with classes on Saturdays and private lessons on Fridays.  I also had an introductory signing class at McKenna Children’s Museum in New Braunfels earlier this month.  It went really well, and I’m expecting to start teaching classes there weekly starting later this summer.

I will be taking a short break from teaching classes starting in March.  We’re expecting twins soon and we will need time to get accustomed to our new crazy life with 3 children.  Classes will start back up again in late summer or early fall!