Poem for a Windy Spring Day

That Wind

Oh, that Wind,

He riled them up

Those leaves were

Minding their own business

Sittin’ at the edge of the yard

Resting just here and there

A couple’a piles thrown in

Peaceful and docile like

Then He came

Rushing right through ‘em

I could almost see him

Blowing out his big cheeks

Spreading his big arms out wide

And grinnin’

Sending them scurrying around

Everyone laughing and giggling

Like a hundred children

On the playground out at recess

Oh, what a playful one that Wind

He just loves to come dance with them.

Riled them right up he did!

ksc, March 8, 2012

Understanding Fibromyalgia, Part One

When I wake up in the morning, I have to psych myself up to put my feet on the floor, because of the pain they feel when I walk to the bathroom.

Walking through the grocery store my leg starts to hurt like someone hit it with a bat. After x-rays, examinations, and MRIs the doctors say nothing is wrong.  My pain is real, they say, but there's no reason for it.

I can't wear a watch because the weight of it hurts my wrists. I can't wear a wedding ring on a bad day because the weight of the two millimeter titanium ring my husband got me makes my fingers throb.

Doctors have told me I just have a sprain, I’m depressed, perimenopausal, menopausal, stressed from having young children and all I really need is to exercise and lose weight.

I've had eight Lyme titers and a spinal tap Lyme test, all negative. Two MRIs and cat scans each of my head, multiple colonoscopies, endoscopies and abdominal cat scans, neck and chest x-rays, and countless blood tests. All negative. My pain and medical concerns are taken seriously, but there's no visible reason for them.

I used to hike the Appalachian Trail, 15 miles a day, with a 45 pound pack on my bag for 7 days straight. Now, if I walk 1/8 of a mile down the hill to the mailbox and back, I feel wiped out and like I have the flu for the next 24 hours.

Fibromyalgia is a nebulous disorder you hear about and don't really know what it is. It's not life threatening, so it doesn't send out urgent emails to the prayer list and no doctors follow you to watch your progress. It is a real thing, even though it often gets treated like a middle-aged woman's neuroses.

Fibromyalgia is life-altering, debilitating, constant pain and fatigue. Walking through molasses every day with joints and muscles that throb and ache, trying to forget about the pain as I complete everyday tasks and take care of the kids. There's no cure and so half the battle is learning to adjust and not throw a self-pitying temper tantrum with God every other day (although I do and those take energy, too).

I'm not writing this to be whiny or get sympathy. I have learned compassion, patience, to prioritize my family more, what to let go of and what to hold on to. I've learned to be more efficient and effective in my actions, because I have less energy to do superfluous activities. But it's all been learned under the umbrella of pain.

I just wanted others to understand that when I say, "I have Fibromyalgia," it doesn't mean I'm just a little tired and sore. It means my life has been radically altered and I'm coping with it as best I can.

Thank you for reading. Sometimes it helps just to be heard and understood.

Are You a Lizard or a Yak?

We have both species living in our house. As a lizard, I could happily lay in a California desert sunning myself on a rock. My husband, on the other hand, wants to start opening the windows when it is 55 degrees out.

Our children have species preferences, also. Ben would like to wear shorts (or nothing at all) through the year and has definite yak tendencies. Jake on the other hand, leans toward the lizard side, snuggling under blankets if his clothes or pajamas are too thin. To be fair we added another category, the Lizaks and the Yazards, for those who fall somewhere in the middle.

Why do these species differences matter? Ask any yak-lizard couple and they will tell you, it is just one more cultural difference that needs to be negotiated in this  Happy-to-be-Stuck-With-You journey.  

And it’s just not yaks and lizards. Another species conflict comes when night owls marry early birds. John could happily go to sleep every night at 9. I actually have a sleep specialist’s recommendation NOT to go to bed before 11-11:30. Even that is early for those most entrenched in the night owl tradition! 

What about you? Are you a yak or lizard, night owl or early bird, or maybe you have your own species delineations needing to be crossed.

On a previous post, Dianne commented that marriage is “more like a business than anything else.” We actually negotiated the bedtime dilemma. John agreed to stay up until 10 if I agreed to go to bed then. Fortunately we didn’t sign it and make it legally binding. I am thankful for my husband’s patient grace, because I regularly renege on my end of the deal! 

I agree that marriage can be more like a business, but it makes a difference if your partner doesn’t hold you strictly to your part of the deal and if you let them slide on a few things, too.

This all came up because our wood stove is still not working. In this snowy weather, the lizard in me declared that I was not going to get out of bed all day. The boys were welcome to come up and watch tv, play games and read with me, but I was not planning on leaving that warm, snuggly goodness for our cold, poorly heat managed environment. 

My husband promptly tried to get the stove going, smoked up the whole house and I had to take action to get Jake (who has asthma) bundled up, out of the smoky air and playing outside in the snow (which he really wanted anyway, not truly being a full-grown lizard). 

Good thing we hadn’t written out a snowy day clause, granting me warm, snuggly bed privileges, because I might have had to call a lawyer.

When Husbands are away, Wives will...burn the house down?

OK, not burn it down necessarily. Just fill it with smoke. All three floors, so that you can see the sun's rays shining in every window of the house and I thought about calling the fire department. Briefly. I didn't manage the wood stove well, so when I came home from running errands it was like a San Francisco fog had descended upon my house. All cleared up now, but shwew!

John is the keeper of the flame in our house. Also the keeper of the plumbing and electricity tools, as well as the deep-voiced, "Knock-It-Off!" authority for three boys aged 7 to 14.

When he travels, I assume those responsibilities and pray that nothing too major happens. I have told him frequently that if anything goes wrong with our water filtering system (5 tanks, 15 valves, countless switches), I am turning it off, calling the plumber and we'll drink bottled water until he comes home.

I'm not always upset when he leaves. All you husband-traveling wives, please attest to the fact that I am not alone in this, before everyone else thinks I'm a bit heartless. John and I have different opinions on just about everything from where the sponge goes to the second coming of our Lord. So, sometimes it's a little easier to go it on my own and get to do everything my way. The adjustment when he gets back is a little hard, but that first night of feeding the kids cereal and staying up later than I'm supposed to feeds my inner teenager a little bit, I think.

Add to that my questions about our marriage. It seems like any little thing can spur a 'passionate discussion'...and not the ooh la la kind of passion, either. Sometimes we're just not compatible. I want to have deep theological, emotional conversations and he wants to cut and stack wood. I want to go out and dance and be in crowds and he's happy staying at home - in the middle of the woods - watching the military channel. He recently told me his ideal place to go live is in Montana, on a large property, and do what I don't know. For a California-born, extroverted lizard like me that seems a bit extreme.

Then, Smokageddon happens - along with a non-stop running toilet upstairs and three rowdy boys wanting my attention all at once - and I'm sorry he's gone. Is that cold and selfish? Purely utilitarian?

When my sister-in-law, Fran, was trying to get me to date John, one of my hold-ups was that he is a 'Sensor' in the Myers-Briggs personality indicators. That means  his five senses are the primary way he takes in information. I had dated a lot of "S's" and really wanted to date an "N" (someone who quickly takes in sense information and than thinks abstractly about it - often missing little details like time and distance, etc.). I happen to be the more abstract one. When I told Fran this (who is married to Harry - an "N"), she said, "You know, sometimes it's nice to have an 'S' around the house." She was right.

I don't know what the answer is...my idealistic self wants to hold onto my image of marriage as two souls united at all levels. The kind of marriage you read about in the self-help books and hear about on talk shows. But still we need help, don't we? Someone who's good at the bills if we're not. Someone who will mow the lawn while the other does the dishes (no gender claims to either one, by the way!). The practical, two people needing each other to survive and manage is an important part, too.

Today I am thankful for my husband who is the CEO of our house maintenance and Leader of our boys. I may have a fit about him not 'getting' me tomorrow, but then maybe I'll smell the smoke-infested couches, pillows, and clothes and remember that it's not all about the touchy-feely stuff.

I think I'll take a smoke-filled towel and put it in a ziploc bag just to remind myself! ;-)

Dilemna #1...Resolution!

Thank you for your thoughts, all you lovely people who felt my maternal angst!

Mostly I heard that our actions on this should help him feel the loss of what he did, and there needed to be some accountability, as well as some delayed gratification. We try to follow those principles around here...the natural consequences of their actions may cause emotional pain and we can only offer support as they learn to deal with that. Elizabeth, knowing you and how you had seen him with his camera, I appreciated the grace you extended toward him on his birthday. Finding the balance between that grace and parenting responsible children is a tough one, I think.

On the morning of his birthday, I gave him the choice of getting what I had for his birthday and using his gift cards from the holidays to help pay for a new camera OR I could take back his gift and get a camera to replace the old one. He chose to get the new camera and not get another birthday gift. I thought that was pretty significant. At 7-years-old it's a pretty big deal to give up any birthday present. I could tell from his slumped shoulders he was upset about losing the unknown gift, but he was brave and grown up in his decision. A big step for my foot-stompin', throwing things around the room, anger management and impulse control boy. He was very mature about it.

In the end, we were able to find it at the bus stop. That lucky little horseshoe guy lost it on a day when it was freezing, so the precipitation that fell was in the form of flurries, not water that would have damaged it beyond repair. A little time by the wood stove downstairs and it works just fine.

He got it back for the day (it was his birthday after all!), but has lost the privilege of using it for a week since he tried to sneak it to school. I was pleased this morning when he asked if he could take one of his new skylander figures in to show his friends in class. He had learned a lesson! When I said no, he accepted it with grace. Maybe this little event helped him initiate a new year of growing in maturity.

It was interesting to see how all of you dealt with the issue of money and children. Since there's SO much to discuss on that, I think I'll save it for another post, with your permission.

Thank you, again, everyone for your thoughts and ideas. I'm sure there will be many dilemmas to come, so save those wise parenting thoughts because I will be calling on them soon!

Parenting Dilemna #1 (on this blog anyway!)

Ben, my beloved 7-year-old (yesterday!), got a pretty nice point-and-shoot camera for Christmas. He was always using my DSLR and has a pretty good eye. When he opened it Christmas morning it was love at first sight!

He loved it so much, in fact, he put it in his jacket pocket to take to school. We all know what happens next. After he lost it at the bus stop first thing Tuesday morning, he discovered it right away on the bus.

Now, here's where it gets interesting. He knew, right? He kept it to himself ALL day. Pretty impressive for his age and propensity for impulse control issues (like taking his camera to school). Two time outs, loss of treats AND electronics later, John and I were trying to figure out what was on in his little head. Then, after he went to bed, he came down sobbing and told us what happened. He just couldn't sleep with that on his mind. It took us almost an hour to get him settled down. He really loved that camera.

At that point, I was in a quandary. Did I get him a new camera, just for him to lose it again? It was his birthday the next day (he was still upset the next morning and asked if we could go to the bus stop early to look for it), what could I do as a mom to not have that overshadow his whole day? On the other hand, he knew he was wrong to take it in the first place, so was losing it just a natural consequence? With Steph and Justin we have the deal that we get the first whatever-it-is and if they lose it, they pay for the next one...but Ben is younger so does that apply? Were we just foolish to give it to him in the first place?

Those were just some of the questions running through my head.

What are your thoughts? I appreciate candidness, so feel free to say, 'What were you thinking getting a 7 year-old a digital camera?' or any thing else that might imply I am not the quintessential, perfect mothering model ready for her own talk show.

I'll share how it was resolved tomorrow, but I wanted to hear others' parenting perspectives first!

Feeling the Crowds this Season? Some Christmas Perspective...

Last week Jake set up the big nativity set and, following a trend set by Ben when he was little, all the animals and characters were crowded in as close as they could get to the manger. It just makes sense, right? I like to spread them all out so they are decorative, but the boys have it right …everyone was squished in to see what all the fuss about.

Also, instead of Jesus’ mother and father behind him, Jake took our gold angel statue and put her there like a spotlight on the baby. His mother and father were in front to worship Him. The angel is bright and draws your attention right away, right down to the little baby who’s only material items that very first morning were straw and blankets. The parents that were given charge over him – a kind mother and strong, wise father – knew, according to Jake, who was the King over their small stable. Beautiful.

I wanted this post to be like the angel, announcing His coming. Lots of times in line at the store, on the road, or at school plays we are squeezed in and forget what we are squeezing in about. I am not saying to give up the presents, cookies and concerts. He didn’t come to eliminate all that fun stuff, just the opposiite - hope and joy are the things he puts under the tree! When we’re drinking a hot chocolate or getting that right gift for someone we love, I hope your heart finds some of his joy, peace and hope, knowing that He brings with him all that is good…and newness for all that isn’t as it should be.

Blessing and Joy to all who take the time to read this (and everyone else, too, I guess). ;-)