I used to think that after the accident we had a golden ticket as a family. We had our tragedy and nothing worse could possibly happen. I learned that's not the case last Friday.
Last Tuesday K started complaining about pain in his rib, especially when taking deep breaths. Being a typical guy, he blew it off thinking that L might have kicked him or head butted him in the night. He hadn't done anything strenuous to cause any trauma, but thought that must be the case. Each subsequent day he felt worse and worse. We were up all night Thursday. Every time he laid down to sleep he'd have to sit up because of the pain and inability to breath. I thought he was having a heart attack, but he insisted he was fine and it was just the pain from his ribs. By Friday morning he was feeling so bad I convinced him to go to the doctor. He was back 1.5 hours later after a clean EKG with a diagnosis of bruised ribs or cartilage or a muscle strain. They did take an x-ray but the results wouldn't be in till the late afternoon.
I went off to school to volunteer and he proceeded to hit Home Depot, buy a hedge trimmer and a bunch of 80 lb bags of soil which he deposited around the yard. He insisted he was fine. I came home around 4:40 with A so they both could head off to soccer practice. The rest of us made dinner and settled in for a relaxed Friday night. At about 6:45 I was in the front of our house in the street tossing pop flies to D when K and A pulled up and he sputtered, "call 911." A was crying, K was gasping for air.
I rushed in to grab the phone screaming for E to get outside (she's certified in CPR as a lifeguard). By the time I got through and gave our address, he managed to get out of the car and stand up. In this position he could breath much easier and insisted he was feeling better. At this point, I handed the phone over to E to talk to the dispatcher and tried to assess what was going on. L was screaming. D and A were cowering on the porch. M was trying to help me with L.
The firetruck and paramedics finally arrived and started checking him out. He continued to insist he was fine. We argued in the middle of the street with me yelling he was going to the hospital. They moved us into the ambulance and the paramedic calmly told K it was a good idea to go and get checked out.
I had called K's mom right after I called 911, so she arrived to take care of the kids while I headed to the ER to get there ahead of the ambulance.
I waited for another 20 minutes till he finally got there. It was awful. They did another EKG and determined his heart was fine. The doctor came in and decided that a cat scan was in order. At this point, K was getting very agitated and insisting he just wanted to go home (he hates hospitals and is the exact opposite of a hypochondriac). He refused to take any narcotics for the pain or anything to calm him down.
At 10:30 pm the doctor came in to tell us he had multiple pulmonary embolisms in his lungs and things quickly got very serious. A nurse came in and administered a blood thinner (a shot in his abdomen). We were admitted upstairs to the telemetry unit where he could be monitored 24/7 to make sure no other clots were thrown). We were up all night with ultrasounds on his legs, drugs, etc.
The doctor came in Saturday morning and gave us the news that he has a blood clot behind his left knee. He has two clots in his right lung and one clot in his left lung. There has already been lung damage on the right side which has cause pleurisy (fluid sac) around the lung causing the pain. The seriousness of the situation sunk in. A nurse commented how lucky he is that he's not dead. With no other symptoms, situations like this usually end fatally.
It was a long and stressful weekend. I had hard time leaving his side. I was really scared. We spent many hours just sitting and holding each other. It was horrible and continues to be shocking that this is really happening.
We were able to come home yesterday afternoon. They taught me how to give the injections twice a day which is keeping him safe until the oral blood thinners do their job. We go in this afternoon for a reading to check his levels and will get a better understanding of the next steps. What we know so far is that we'll do the injections for another week and then he'll be on the blood thinners for 6 months in to break up the clots and hopefully prevent more from forming. He'll have some lifestyle changes as a result. After that, he'll have tests done to determine why this happened since he doesn't have any of the classic precursors (not overweight, pregnant, recent surgery, or a big traveller).
The kids are fine. Spooked a bit, but doing okay. E definitely stepped up to the plate. Of all the months for this to happen of course, when we all are reminded of the fragility of life.
So I guess my illusion of our family being spared is partially true. K is still here. He didn't die. Maybe we have the golden ticket after all. Or maybe life is just life. Random. Unfair. I'm just thankful he's still with us and our kids didn't have to get another horrible life lesson.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
One Week
So I've been taking the medicine for one week today. I'm still not sure what I think and, more importantly, how I feel about it. The side effects have not been great. My stomach is still a bit queasy and my appetite hasn't returned yet. Yesterday the constant thirst abated a little. Strangely, my diet coke craving hasn't been as strong. I'm tired, but in a different way, more sleepy than my normal physical tiredness. I've had to take a nap 3 out of the last 4 days. I feel a bit spacey at times and sometimes following a conversation has been difficult. I had a hard time at therapy Monday trying to express what I'm feeling.
On the positive, I've been falling asleep much easier at night. I definitely feel mellower. Subdued is the only word I can muster to match how I feel. The constant irritability and underlying anger seems gone. Monday night and last night I did feel the familiar anxiety about something that needs to get done this week, but that kind of stress is an old friend. I feel more patient. This weekend with the boys especially we all felt a little lighter.
To be honest, I've feel like crap for so long I'm not sure what good feels like. My therapist said I should start feeling more like myself again. I don't who that is anymore.
I haven't told anyone in my life about this. My friends Lanette and Elena who encouraged me to take this step know and have been checking in on me. I haven't told K. He knew I was going to talk to a doctor about it. I feel horrible not sharing this major decision with him, but at this point I'm not sure how he'll react and whether or not I can handle it if it's negative. Why do I have no problem telling anyone that I go to therapy on Mondays, but can't admit that I'm taking an antidepressant. I even just hesitated as I typed the "a" word instead of using the generic "medicine."
I'm going to stick with it. If the side effects don't improve, I'll call my doctor and maybe switch to something else. I know in my mind that this is the right decision for me and my family. My heart just hasn't caught up yet.
On the positive, I've been falling asleep much easier at night. I definitely feel mellower. Subdued is the only word I can muster to match how I feel. The constant irritability and underlying anger seems gone. Monday night and last night I did feel the familiar anxiety about something that needs to get done this week, but that kind of stress is an old friend. I feel more patient. This weekend with the boys especially we all felt a little lighter.
To be honest, I've feel like crap for so long I'm not sure what good feels like. My therapist said I should start feeling more like myself again. I don't who that is anymore.
I haven't told anyone in my life about this. My friends Lanette and Elena who encouraged me to take this step know and have been checking in on me. I haven't told K. He knew I was going to talk to a doctor about it. I feel horrible not sharing this major decision with him, but at this point I'm not sure how he'll react and whether or not I can handle it if it's negative. Why do I have no problem telling anyone that I go to therapy on Mondays, but can't admit that I'm taking an antidepressant. I even just hesitated as I typed the "a" word instead of using the generic "medicine."
I'm going to stick with it. If the side effects don't improve, I'll call my doctor and maybe switch to something else. I know in my mind that this is the right decision for me and my family. My heart just hasn't caught up yet.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Geckos, drugs, new tunes and soccer balls
1. Reggae the gecko has been found. During his nightly search two days after his disappearance, A found him about 3 feet from his cage under the book shelf. A few minutes of lizard wrangling later, little Mr. Regs was safely back in his habitat and a very happy 12 year old smiled for the next 24 hours.
2. I'm on day 2 of the meds. I finally went to my GP Tuesday. I cried. She asked the standard questions, tilting her head to one side with sympathy as she listened to the briefest explanation of what's going on with me. 45 minutes later I walked out of the pharmacy with 50mg pills of Z@loft. I did not anticipate the nausea, but according to Dr. Google this is normal and should subside. I really can't afford to not eat since the whole "I can't eat because I'm so stressed" is one of the reasons I'm taking them. I do feel different. I think it's better. I know it can take weeks to level off one's brain chemistry, but I definitely feel something shifting. I still feel defeated in a way taking this road. I felt much worse in the first year after the accident and was able to get through. I suppose the sustained stress of the last 3 years has taken its toll. I have hope that this will help.
3. The new Mumford and Sons album came out on Tuesday. Holy cow. I think they are writing the soundtrack to my life (or maybe it's the drugs). Grief, love, hope, despair all wrapped into beautiful melodies and harmonies. Nothing like new music. Yay!
4. We are fully into the soccer season around these parts. Everyone is having fun and playing well. The improvement in A is especially heart warming. As with most things, motivation for A has to come from within. He doesn't really care that much what other people think. K and I have worked hard to sit back with him in soccer and just let him develop at his own pace and it seems to have paid off. He is extremely fast and athletic and it seems to all be coming together for him. Fun to watch. We are also really happy with M's team. While it's a logistical nightmare getting her there, her coach is a friend of mine and nothing can replace a positive, female role model for a young girl athlete. She's having a blast. D's confidence is coming back with soccer too (his coach is pretty negative) and he's having fun. L starting playing this year too and it's quite obvious he has grown up on a soccer field. He's fierce. I actually played last night. It was great. I ripped a shot from 30 yards out for a great goal and felt like the Peg of old. It was nice.
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold as long as you like
Just promise me that we'll be alright
--Ghosts That We Knew, Mumford and Sons
2. I'm on day 2 of the meds. I finally went to my GP Tuesday. I cried. She asked the standard questions, tilting her head to one side with sympathy as she listened to the briefest explanation of what's going on with me. 45 minutes later I walked out of the pharmacy with 50mg pills of Z@loft. I did not anticipate the nausea, but according to Dr. Google this is normal and should subside. I really can't afford to not eat since the whole "I can't eat because I'm so stressed" is one of the reasons I'm taking them. I do feel different. I think it's better. I know it can take weeks to level off one's brain chemistry, but I definitely feel something shifting. I still feel defeated in a way taking this road. I felt much worse in the first year after the accident and was able to get through. I suppose the sustained stress of the last 3 years has taken its toll. I have hope that this will help.
3. The new Mumford and Sons album came out on Tuesday. Holy cow. I think they are writing the soundtrack to my life (or maybe it's the drugs). Grief, love, hope, despair all wrapped into beautiful melodies and harmonies. Nothing like new music. Yay!
4. We are fully into the soccer season around these parts. Everyone is having fun and playing well. The improvement in A is especially heart warming. As with most things, motivation for A has to come from within. He doesn't really care that much what other people think. K and I have worked hard to sit back with him in soccer and just let him develop at his own pace and it seems to have paid off. He is extremely fast and athletic and it seems to all be coming together for him. Fun to watch. We are also really happy with M's team. While it's a logistical nightmare getting her there, her coach is a friend of mine and nothing can replace a positive, female role model for a young girl athlete. She's having a blast. D's confidence is coming back with soccer too (his coach is pretty negative) and he's having fun. L starting playing this year too and it's quite obvious he has grown up on a soccer field. He's fierce. I actually played last night. It was great. I ripped a shot from 30 yards out for a great goal and felt like the Peg of old. It was nice.
So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light
Cause oh that gave me such a fright
But I will hold as long as you like
Just promise me that we'll be alright
--Ghosts That We Knew, Mumford and Sons
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Kids and Funerals
I love it when posts from another blogger inspire me to write. Mel over at Stirrup Queens asked a question in her last post about whether or not to allow your kids to attend a funeral. This of course got me thinking about how we handled the wake and funeral for Jeanne and Mike when it came to our kids and the girls. First, let me say that I really think it depends on the circumstances. We had a family friend die a few months before my sister who knew and loved the boys, but I did not bring them to the funeral. At the time, I didn't think they'd get it and to be honest, I just wanted to go and cry and not have to worry about the boys. I also think you need to gauge your own kids. If you think they are the age to behave appropriately then I think it's a good think to allow kids to be there.
Hundreds of people attended the wake for Jeanne and Mike. We had two visiting sessions for about 5-6 hours total and the line never ended. Not only did friends of Jeanne and Mike attend, but we all have a lot of friends that were there to support us. K and I, in particular, had tons of friends there for us. The big girls were there for the first session for a bit and E stayed for part of the evening session to pray the rosary. We did not bring 3 year old L to the wake at all, but we did bring A and D (ages 9 and 7 at the time) to be there for their cousins. At that time, and months to follow, the boys also did not want us out of their sight. A wasn't eating unless I was there and D was having diarrhea and bathroom accidents. The funeral director set up a room for the kids (and any weary adults) with food and we brought games, books, crayons, etc. to keep them occupied. At some point my sister-in-law brought the kids to a mini-golf down the street.
Wakes are weird things. Everyone was there to show their love and respect, but most of the time I felt like I was there to support them in their shock and grief. By the end of an hour, my shirt was wet from the sobs of others on my shoulder. I took many breaks during the day to "hide out" with the kids and get a much needed break.
During the afternoon session we did have a viewing for only the family. We gave all of the kids the option to participate. E and M wanted to go in, but M only wanted to go if one of boys would go. A said no very quietly. My brave, kind D stood up and said he'd go with M. I walked in with both of them wrapping my arms around their shoulders wishing it wasn't really happening. They eventually pulled away from me and D held M's hand and approached the coffins. I remember thinking how small he looked.
E was kneeling next to her dad. M looked at her big sister and mimicked her actions in prayer. D hung back, eventually leaning into his dad with he eyes fixed on the two coffins. I could tell M was getting fidgety so I approached her and walked D and M back to the break room. The conversation between the two of them was so honest and funny.
"My mom looked like my mom, but my dad looked weird."
"Yeah, your dad didn't usually wear make-up."
They both went back in the room and joined A, filling him in on the viewing in a direct, innocent way. He listened, changed the subject and they were back to being silly and laughing.
K and I drove E home from the wake that evening. I'll never forget K and E laughing and comparing notes about what were the most awkward moments from the day were. E thought it was seeing her 13 year boy classmates crying and hugging her. I thought it was hugging my hugely overweight and sweaty boss at the time. K thought it was calling the same person the wrong name twice. We actually were laughing as the three of us drove past the accident site. Strange. It was such a long, tiring day, we couldn't help from giggling to relieve the tension.
For the funeral, we decided that all the kids would be there. Even though they wouldn't remember, we didn't want the little girls as adults feel like they missed out on something so momentous. We decided to bring L for many reasons. First, we thought he'd behave pretty well and we have my sister-in-law on board to bring him out if he got squirmy. Also, at that point we were all so stressed and tired that I couldn't think of anyone I trusted to leave him with that wouldn't be at the funeral. Selfishly, I also wanted my boys with me. I needed them. Moreover, I wanted them to be there for their cousins. Not even knowing what their future would hold in our family, I knew that this bond among the cousins was going to be important if we were going to get through this. D and M during the wake had already poignantly demonstrated that.
In the long run, I am so glad that we had the boys as much of a part of the process as possible. This one event has had such a huge impact on all of our lives. It's become even more important I think since the girls have joined our family. Funny thing about kids too in their ability to jump from sadness to joy fairly easily. We all got back to my sister's house after the burial, changed out of our fancy clothes and played some whiffle ball. On a day in which we felt all was lost, they helped us step outside of our adult grief, if only for a bit. That kind of respite is priceless.
Hundreds of people attended the wake for Jeanne and Mike. We had two visiting sessions for about 5-6 hours total and the line never ended. Not only did friends of Jeanne and Mike attend, but we all have a lot of friends that were there to support us. K and I, in particular, had tons of friends there for us. The big girls were there for the first session for a bit and E stayed for part of the evening session to pray the rosary. We did not bring 3 year old L to the wake at all, but we did bring A and D (ages 9 and 7 at the time) to be there for their cousins. At that time, and months to follow, the boys also did not want us out of their sight. A wasn't eating unless I was there and D was having diarrhea and bathroom accidents. The funeral director set up a room for the kids (and any weary adults) with food and we brought games, books, crayons, etc. to keep them occupied. At some point my sister-in-law brought the kids to a mini-golf down the street.
Wakes are weird things. Everyone was there to show their love and respect, but most of the time I felt like I was there to support them in their shock and grief. By the end of an hour, my shirt was wet from the sobs of others on my shoulder. I took many breaks during the day to "hide out" with the kids and get a much needed break.
During the afternoon session we did have a viewing for only the family. We gave all of the kids the option to participate. E and M wanted to go in, but M only wanted to go if one of boys would go. A said no very quietly. My brave, kind D stood up and said he'd go with M. I walked in with both of them wrapping my arms around their shoulders wishing it wasn't really happening. They eventually pulled away from me and D held M's hand and approached the coffins. I remember thinking how small he looked.
E was kneeling next to her dad. M looked at her big sister and mimicked her actions in prayer. D hung back, eventually leaning into his dad with he eyes fixed on the two coffins. I could tell M was getting fidgety so I approached her and walked D and M back to the break room. The conversation between the two of them was so honest and funny.
"My mom looked like my mom, but my dad looked weird."
"Yeah, your dad didn't usually wear make-up."
They both went back in the room and joined A, filling him in on the viewing in a direct, innocent way. He listened, changed the subject and they were back to being silly and laughing.
K and I drove E home from the wake that evening. I'll never forget K and E laughing and comparing notes about what were the most awkward moments from the day were. E thought it was seeing her 13 year boy classmates crying and hugging her. I thought it was hugging my hugely overweight and sweaty boss at the time. K thought it was calling the same person the wrong name twice. We actually were laughing as the three of us drove past the accident site. Strange. It was such a long, tiring day, we couldn't help from giggling to relieve the tension.
For the funeral, we decided that all the kids would be there. Even though they wouldn't remember, we didn't want the little girls as adults feel like they missed out on something so momentous. We decided to bring L for many reasons. First, we thought he'd behave pretty well and we have my sister-in-law on board to bring him out if he got squirmy. Also, at that point we were all so stressed and tired that I couldn't think of anyone I trusted to leave him with that wouldn't be at the funeral. Selfishly, I also wanted my boys with me. I needed them. Moreover, I wanted them to be there for their cousins. Not even knowing what their future would hold in our family, I knew that this bond among the cousins was going to be important if we were going to get through this. D and M during the wake had already poignantly demonstrated that.
In the long run, I am so glad that we had the boys as much of a part of the process as possible. This one event has had such a huge impact on all of our lives. It's become even more important I think since the girls have joined our family. Funny thing about kids too in their ability to jump from sadness to joy fairly easily. We all got back to my sister's house after the burial, changed out of our fancy clothes and played some whiffle ball. On a day in which we felt all was lost, they helped us step outside of our adult grief, if only for a bit. That kind of respite is priceless.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
There's a gecko loose in the house...
No, really. A didn't close the top all the way for his panther gecko (Reggae) the night before last when he was feeding him and he escaped. We've searched everywhere after he discovered Regs was gone after school. I didn't handle the situation very well. Rather than show any sympathy and understand how distraught he was, I laid into him about being irresponsible and that this was all his fault. Yes, it was his mistake, but my major mistake laying into him.
I then stormed downstairs and yelled pretty much about everything.
"D! Finish your homework! Get ready for soccer! Hurry up!"
"L! Stop hanging on me and for heaven's sake stop whining!"
Medication anyone?
I still wavering about getting meds, even with encouragement from people online, friends at home and my therapist. I ran into a good friend at soccer practice and she took one look at me and begged me to go and urged me to start exercising. She's gone through a bunch herself (terrible divorce after her husband cheated on her with her only sister-in-law when she was 6 months pregnant with their 3rd). Going on some temporary medication really helped her.
I think at the heart of my hesitation is that some pill may make me feel a bit mellower, but the source of my stress, anger, pain, etc. isn't going to go away. My sister is still dead. I miss my old life. The kids still need me. The girls are still a mess. I still feel so alone. Won't the pill just be a band-aid for what's really wrong? In the long run, I need to figure out how to accept the life I have and find the energy/motivation to tackle it with love and joy. I have no idea why, but going on medication only highlights how broken I feel. I have absolutely no qualms with anyone else medicating for mental health issues. Maybe it's pride? Scared about who I'll be on meds? A combination?
The earliest I'll be able to get to the doctor is next week. My therapist agreed that going to my primary care may be the only way I'm going to take the next step. Trying to find someone on my insurance in a timely manner has been a bridge too far.
Anyway, if you are so inclined, please send a few prayers to St. Anthony (patron saint of lost things) that we find Reggae safe and sound. And, if you've got a any left, send a few my way that I'll find the courage to choose the right path, whatever that might be.
I then stormed downstairs and yelled pretty much about everything.
"D! Finish your homework! Get ready for soccer! Hurry up!"
"L! Stop hanging on me and for heaven's sake stop whining!"
Medication anyone?
I still wavering about getting meds, even with encouragement from people online, friends at home and my therapist. I ran into a good friend at soccer practice and she took one look at me and begged me to go and urged me to start exercising. She's gone through a bunch herself (terrible divorce after her husband cheated on her with her only sister-in-law when she was 6 months pregnant with their 3rd). Going on some temporary medication really helped her.
I think at the heart of my hesitation is that some pill may make me feel a bit mellower, but the source of my stress, anger, pain, etc. isn't going to go away. My sister is still dead. I miss my old life. The kids still need me. The girls are still a mess. I still feel so alone. Won't the pill just be a band-aid for what's really wrong? In the long run, I need to figure out how to accept the life I have and find the energy/motivation to tackle it with love and joy. I have no idea why, but going on medication only highlights how broken I feel. I have absolutely no qualms with anyone else medicating for mental health issues. Maybe it's pride? Scared about who I'll be on meds? A combination?
The earliest I'll be able to get to the doctor is next week. My therapist agreed that going to my primary care may be the only way I'm going to take the next step. Trying to find someone on my insurance in a timely manner has been a bridge too far.
Anyway, if you are so inclined, please send a few prayers to St. Anthony (patron saint of lost things) that we find Reggae safe and sound. And, if you've got a any left, send a few my way that I'll find the courage to choose the right path, whatever that might be.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Just Write
So I have a few minutes this morning. I just ordered fleeces for the big kids online (they hate hate hate big bulky winter jackets, so rather than fight it I ordered extra warm fleeces). I need to run to Tar-jay in a few, but there is no rush.
I thought that this is a perfect time to write a post. Ideas for my blog pop up in my head throughout the day. However...
I have no idea what to write. I'm a bit out of practice. Writing about a certain theme or event that highlighted itself during the day has always been my approach whether it's a personal reflection or something that happened with the kids. I don't know why writing a list of random thoughts bugs me. I actually enjoy reading blog posts in that fashion. Little snippets of what is on their mind or stuff going on in their life. I love candid pictures. Maybe I want this space to be different, writing pieces that involve serious thought and time to write. Do I want to be a writer not just a blogger? Is there a difference? Some of my favorite bloggers (Stirrup Queens, Korinthia) write pieces that could stand alone outside of their life's context. But some of my other favorites (Enjoying the small things, Rach, Lessons from an Infertile Social Worker) do a beautiful job weaving their everyday lives into moments of clarity and insight for me as a reader. Sometimes I just like a good story.
But back to my current problem. I have not idea what to write. So here's another list of random things going on.
1. My dad really came through on the cemetery / memorial issue and now we will possibly get a waiver for a tree AND we're probably going to replace both markers with a larger more personal one customized by our family. I can't wait to tell E tonight (wow that sounds weird and depressing).
2. Kindergarten is going very well with L. He is happy to go every day and has only missed getting a sticker for good behavior once. He had "refused" to complete an activity that involved lots of little, detailed cutting. It was hard for him, he got tired, and in tune with his personality he simply refused to finish. We talked about it after school and we haven't had any other incidents. He is pretty tired once the day is done. It's a good tired born from playing, learning, and being a big boy. I'm so proud of him.
3. Having a kid with learning issues is a bigger challenge than I ever anticipated. I tend to have to focus so much on M's emotional issues, that her ADHD and LD are sometimes forgotten. We're having her student assistance plan meeting next week and I hope I'll have time to do some more research between now and them to construct a better plan that helps her more this year. I'm not thrilled with our school's resource teacher and feel like I have to be a lot more informed to be the best advocate for M.
4. The girls are supposed to go to a family wedding in Indiana for their cousin on their dad's side of the family. They are understandably excited and have been talking about it for months. The Indiana relatives are being completely unhelpful and aren't taking care of the girls at all. I get that it's a wedding and that is their focus, but for once it would be nice if they tried at all to incorporate the girls in their lives. CA and KM are going to bring the little girls and we'll have the big girls stay in an adjoining room at a hotel. What could be an opportunity for letting them share in their other family is turning into more of a crisis management exercise to temper the girls' disappointment in not being part of the event and dealing with their frustration with CA and KM. It's never easy.
5. Teenage angst. Enough said.
6. K is planning an anniversary trip for us at the end of November to Naples, FL. I'm hoping it will be a chance for us to recharge individually and together.
7. I took leave last week to give myself a break from the work drama and get our house squared away. I was a bit ambitious in my plans. I did get three rooms done and most importantly got our family office / computer room cleaned out. It was a dumping ground for crap from my sister's house and boxes of the girls childhood things (books, etc) that needed a storage place in our house. I also started a wall of family photos in that room and it looks really good. Yay me!
8. We have 5 soccer games, 1 baseball game and a team bake sale this weekend. Somehow we'll get everyone where they need to be and squeeze in mass and feeding the masses. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.
9. No progress on medication. I can't find a psychiatrist that my therapist knows on my insurance. I'd rather not have to pay out of pocket. The momentum of my difficult decision is slipping away. Sigh.
Well, I did it. I wrote something. Not sure it's very interesting or thought provoking, but then again, who am I writing this blog for anyway?
I thought that this is a perfect time to write a post. Ideas for my blog pop up in my head throughout the day. However...
I have no idea what to write. I'm a bit out of practice. Writing about a certain theme or event that highlighted itself during the day has always been my approach whether it's a personal reflection or something that happened with the kids. I don't know why writing a list of random thoughts bugs me. I actually enjoy reading blog posts in that fashion. Little snippets of what is on their mind or stuff going on in their life. I love candid pictures. Maybe I want this space to be different, writing pieces that involve serious thought and time to write. Do I want to be a writer not just a blogger? Is there a difference? Some of my favorite bloggers (Stirrup Queens, Korinthia) write pieces that could stand alone outside of their life's context. But some of my other favorites (Enjoying the small things, Rach, Lessons from an Infertile Social Worker) do a beautiful job weaving their everyday lives into moments of clarity and insight for me as a reader. Sometimes I just like a good story.
But back to my current problem. I have not idea what to write. So here's another list of random things going on.
1. My dad really came through on the cemetery / memorial issue and now we will possibly get a waiver for a tree AND we're probably going to replace both markers with a larger more personal one customized by our family. I can't wait to tell E tonight (wow that sounds weird and depressing).
2. Kindergarten is going very well with L. He is happy to go every day and has only missed getting a sticker for good behavior once. He had "refused" to complete an activity that involved lots of little, detailed cutting. It was hard for him, he got tired, and in tune with his personality he simply refused to finish. We talked about it after school and we haven't had any other incidents. He is pretty tired once the day is done. It's a good tired born from playing, learning, and being a big boy. I'm so proud of him.
3. Having a kid with learning issues is a bigger challenge than I ever anticipated. I tend to have to focus so much on M's emotional issues, that her ADHD and LD are sometimes forgotten. We're having her student assistance plan meeting next week and I hope I'll have time to do some more research between now and them to construct a better plan that helps her more this year. I'm not thrilled with our school's resource teacher and feel like I have to be a lot more informed to be the best advocate for M.
4. The girls are supposed to go to a family wedding in Indiana for their cousin on their dad's side of the family. They are understandably excited and have been talking about it for months. The Indiana relatives are being completely unhelpful and aren't taking care of the girls at all. I get that it's a wedding and that is their focus, but for once it would be nice if they tried at all to incorporate the girls in their lives. CA and KM are going to bring the little girls and we'll have the big girls stay in an adjoining room at a hotel. What could be an opportunity for letting them share in their other family is turning into more of a crisis management exercise to temper the girls' disappointment in not being part of the event and dealing with their frustration with CA and KM. It's never easy.
5. Teenage angst. Enough said.
6. K is planning an anniversary trip for us at the end of November to Naples, FL. I'm hoping it will be a chance for us to recharge individually and together.
7. I took leave last week to give myself a break from the work drama and get our house squared away. I was a bit ambitious in my plans. I did get three rooms done and most importantly got our family office / computer room cleaned out. It was a dumping ground for crap from my sister's house and boxes of the girls childhood things (books, etc) that needed a storage place in our house. I also started a wall of family photos in that room and it looks really good. Yay me!
8. We have 5 soccer games, 1 baseball game and a team bake sale this weekend. Somehow we'll get everyone where they need to be and squeeze in mass and feeding the masses. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.
9. No progress on medication. I can't find a psychiatrist that my therapist knows on my insurance. I'd rather not have to pay out of pocket. The momentum of my difficult decision is slipping away. Sigh.
Well, I did it. I wrote something. Not sure it's very interesting or thought provoking, but then again, who am I writing this blog for anyway?
Thursday, September 13, 2012
In the Air
It's starting to get a bit chilling around here in the morning and evening. A few days this week the kids wore sweatshirts to school (only to tear them off at dismissal in the 80 degree temperatures).
We all feel it. The countdown is starting to the accident anniversary. Strange how our bodies remember and it translates into emotions running a bit higher and a sadness that one has a hard time shaking.
I spent time this morning talking with the memorial park where Jeanne and Mike are buried. E would like to install a bench or tree at the gravesite to make it a bit more personal. Nobody, especially E, likes the grave markers. (they are actually buried on top of each other in one plot with a marker at the head for Mike and at the foot for Jeanne). Since Mike was technically a vet (flew a reconnaissance plane in Desert Shield), the military paid for his marker. This limited what could be written and boiled down his whole life in terms of his military service. Jeanne's simply says, "Beloved Wife." I get why my dad and Mike's dad went with the "free" option, but it definitely doesn't sum up what they meant to the rest of us left behind. And let's be honest, Jeanne and Mike don't really care, but it's our feelings and what we think they would have wanted that leaves us unsettled.
Turns out we can't have a bench. It's not the right kind of plot and being a memorial park not a traditional cemetery the idea is that markers are flat on the ground to give it a "park" feel. Like anyone is there to happily stroll the grounds and have a picnic. The very kind lady on the phone explained that they limit the type of memorials because the groundskeepers kept knocking over the big headstones or benches and the memorial park had to pay to replace them. Only people with family plots can "riff" with different memorials.
E is not going to be happy. She spends the most time there and really wants to have something that reflects the fact that they were her parents. We can replace the bronze plaque on each of the marble slabs, but it will probably cost a lot of money. C and I brainstormed at lunch today that maybe we could install a bench with their names at the local regional park they loved so much. I've seen similar benches throughout the park. I'm hoping this will make E feel better.
We all still keep our grief stove piped within our own pain. Sometimes I think we haven't made any of these grand gestures for them because we try so hard to be sensitive to the girls' feelings (especially E). But I lost my sister. Mom and Dad lost their daughter. Others lost a friend, cousin, work colleague. I hope one day we all can arrive at a place where our walls built by grief are broken down and we can share this loss together while celebrating their lives. It's still a tricky thing.
We all feel it. The countdown is starting to the accident anniversary. Strange how our bodies remember and it translates into emotions running a bit higher and a sadness that one has a hard time shaking.
I spent time this morning talking with the memorial park where Jeanne and Mike are buried. E would like to install a bench or tree at the gravesite to make it a bit more personal. Nobody, especially E, likes the grave markers. (they are actually buried on top of each other in one plot with a marker at the head for Mike and at the foot for Jeanne). Since Mike was technically a vet (flew a reconnaissance plane in Desert Shield), the military paid for his marker. This limited what could be written and boiled down his whole life in terms of his military service. Jeanne's simply says, "Beloved Wife." I get why my dad and Mike's dad went with the "free" option, but it definitely doesn't sum up what they meant to the rest of us left behind. And let's be honest, Jeanne and Mike don't really care, but it's our feelings and what we think they would have wanted that leaves us unsettled.
Turns out we can't have a bench. It's not the right kind of plot and being a memorial park not a traditional cemetery the idea is that markers are flat on the ground to give it a "park" feel. Like anyone is there to happily stroll the grounds and have a picnic. The very kind lady on the phone explained that they limit the type of memorials because the groundskeepers kept knocking over the big headstones or benches and the memorial park had to pay to replace them. Only people with family plots can "riff" with different memorials.
E is not going to be happy. She spends the most time there and really wants to have something that reflects the fact that they were her parents. We can replace the bronze plaque on each of the marble slabs, but it will probably cost a lot of money. C and I brainstormed at lunch today that maybe we could install a bench with their names at the local regional park they loved so much. I've seen similar benches throughout the park. I'm hoping this will make E feel better.
We all still keep our grief stove piped within our own pain. Sometimes I think we haven't made any of these grand gestures for them because we try so hard to be sensitive to the girls' feelings (especially E). But I lost my sister. Mom and Dad lost their daughter. Others lost a friend, cousin, work colleague. I hope one day we all can arrive at a place where our walls built by grief are broken down and we can share this loss together while celebrating their lives. It's still a tricky thing.
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