I'm Jealous of the Babysitter and Other Things to be Thankful For

During the Patriots/Eagles game on Sunday afternoon I commented that I did not want to go to work the following day to which our friend and babysitter Cindy said, "I do!"  At the moment I thought about how jealous I was of her being able to come and spend that time with my little guys, but then I thought some more and realized some things I'd like to share with you...I like my job.  I'm good at it, I care about the people I work with and for.  I'm grateful to God that I have a job, which is something these days.

I actually have two part time jobs, as I've mentioned before, one as a medical social worker for a home care agency in the area, the other as a marriage and family counselor in a local private practice.  I enjoy having my office and seeing clients individually and as couples.  I have a passion for the work and a desire to do it.

I was able to see that I really have the best of both worlds and should be ever grateful for it.  I love my boys and each moment with them is precious.  However, if I need to work, and I must, this is a wonderful situation!  It's a wonderful situation not only because I like my work but also because I am blessed to have a "babysitter" and friend who loves my boys so well and takes such fabulous care of them while I am away.  That she enjoys her time here with them is something that I am also thankful for...she likes her work!

Shout out to Carol at www.wheretheroadgoes.weebly.com who talked to me about the tension between work and home.  When I am at work I'm thinking about home but not always vice versa.  I am not preoccupied to the point of being unproductive, but it's just enough of a preoccupation for me to realize that there is a bit of a tug there.  I'm not sure if it's an overactive sense of responsibility to my children or the home or if I just miss them...maybe a bit of both.  But what I can say in the midst of this struggle is that God gave me work and it is good to have work to do!  I am thankful for the determination and inspiration to do the work that I do, for the desire to do it well and for the opportunities I do have to use my skills in the workplace.

I love being a mom.  I never understood or could have imagined what it would be like to have a sweet little boy look me in the eyes and call me "mom".  This is another role which I feel called to and equipped for; not always well-equipped as the "Trying Twos" are in full swing and requiring much time, energy and thought.  I was blessed with three sons and I will strive to always do what is best for them in the midst of this tension between work and home.  I hope that they see me working hard and using the talents and time I've been given to serve others and in truth to what I believe I was created for or called to do.  Counselor and Mother.      (Or Mother and Counselor).   

I am thankful.  The Patriots won yesterday, Cindy was here today at 7:30 a.m. with a sunny disposition, and I left for work with kisses from all my boys and with a grateful heart that there is good work to be done. 

A Faith that Lives

In response to my previous post a dear friend of mine shared her thoughts and gave me permission to share them here with you.  She said:  "Death brings out compassion and love between family, friends and strangers.  Life isn't on earth, it's with God.  [The runner] served his God while on this earth, now it his time to go home...we celebrate his life.  Through this [the driver] will reach out to God and find a compassionate God to ease his pain and bring understanding to this accident; a God he will hold dear in his life."
She speaks of a redemptive God; God who would bring grace and good from tragedy.  In the midst of the pain, the sadness, the confusion there lives a thing some call faith.  Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance of what we do not see (Hebrews 11:1).  Though I do not see it I have the faith to believe that God mourns with us as we mourn and celebrates with us as well.
I was reminded by another friend of mine today that God in the person of Jesus did Himself mourn the loss of his friend Lazarus, even before He called him out the tomb to live again.  This friend put it beautifully saying, "All we can say (given our finite knowledge) is it [the accident] was an interplay of decisions whose consequences played out. Is this cold and unfeeling? On the surface yes, but it is a starting place where one can begin to deal with it without questioning God's love, goodness or power.  What we must never forget is that God is not sitting on the sidelines, He cares far beyond what we can ever imagine." (See comments on my last post for more).
This was the piece of the puzzle I was missing as I wrote last night. Remembering that we live in an imperfect world where there is sickness, tragedy and death.  When I was diagnosed with cancer in 1991 I didn't think that God "gave" me cancer.  Simply put, there's cancer in the world where I live and I got it.  It would be unfair of me to think God was being punitive and punishing me for some past wrong, or that He was passive in not sparing my family and I the pain of this illness.
So as I continue to contemplate tragedy, grief and God, I return to faith.  A faith that would thank a loving God for His presence in the face of this tragedy and grief; that He would mourn with us and celebrate with us.  Though my eyes cannot see it, my heart believes and I will live this hope, this faith that God does indeed care more deeply than we could ever imagine.


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When Time Stands Still

Days are full of tasks that can either slow or speed the passing of time but when tragedy strikes, time seems to stand still.  We get stuck in that particular time and space.  I'm stuck in Tuesday.

It was a crisp and cool morning, dark until about 7 a.m.  I went to work as usual, as many people did that day. But it wasn't to be an ordinary day.  There was an accident; an accident that would not only change the life of the runner's family, but also the life of a young man driving from work.
I knew the runner and his family from church; a wife and four beautiful children.  We were simply acquaintances but it was just close enough to home to make an impact, close enough for time to stand still.  It's strange, I feel stuck in that moment yet am watching everything speed by around me.
When tragedy comes into your life it requires something of you.  It demands attention and time to meditate on what was lost.  Not only that, but it almost calls for you to reassess your beliefs about life, death, justice, and meaning.
I've been troubled to the core, working to reconcile my belief of an all-powerful and most-loving God in the midst of a senseless loss.  If I believe that God is all-powerful then certainly I believe He could and should stop the car in the middle of a country road before reaching the runner.  If I believe He is a loving God then wouldn't He, shouldn't He spare the husband, the father of four children and at the same time pardon a young man from the guilt of taking the life of another?
As I considered these things I was also forced to admit that I do not believe in a God that would force or impose His will upon anyone, as if we were His subjects or were simply drones-created only to do His bidding.  I was forced then to conclude that if this God I profess to believe in does not move us about like chess pieces then that car on that country road would stay its course according to the will of its driver just as the runner would continue to run there as he always had.  If God did not cause this tragedy, He allowed it.
My very soul cries out.  I maintain a deep belief in a loving God and yet also wonder why such pain must be experienced in this world.  I have come to no conclusions and wrestle with these two aspects of God: the all-powerful and the non-invasive.  But this I know, in the darkest hours of my life, in all of those moments when time stood still in the face of tragedy, grief or loss, I felt the presence of a loving God surround me to hold me up when I could not stand, to calm fears when I was most anxious and to bring peace in the midst of the storm.
Tomorrow is Friday and most of me will be participating in that day yet a part of me is still "stuck" dealing with Tuesday.

Nighty-night

I can't imagine where the last 13 days have gone!  Yes, it has been 13 days since I last wrote and I cannot believe I've stayed away that long!  There are days when I really look forward to sitting down at night to write this.  Sometimes I write and re-write, in my head, what I want to share as I go about my day.  But I honestly cannot even tell you what I've been doing the last 13 days that have kept me from this blog!  My computer was in the "hospital" for a 4 day weekend, so that makes a big difference.  Other than life as a wife, mom, social worker, marriage and family counselor, and newly recruited Avon Representative, I haven't had anything "new" to keep me from writing.
Well here I am, and the good news is all of my boys are in their respective cribs/beds tonight for the first time since we brought the twin babies home from the hospital in March!  There are no babies sleeping in my room tonight!  Yeah!  I am hoping that I will get a solid night's sleep.  Of course my super-sonic mom hearing will be in effect and I will just have to deal with that, but it's different having them in another room...good different.
And so, with the wee ones tucked in their beds and my husband sleeping peacefully beside me I bid you "good-night" and look forward to a few more moments to share with you, at the dawn of a new day!

Self-Care and other Lofty Goals

I woke up with a sore throat and a pressure headache-'tis the season for sinus trouble!  It has been a crazy week with working both of my jobs, preparing for Bobby's birthday party (which was Saturday) and trying to take advantage of the beautiful weather before it's gone!  My boys would be outside every day for hours if they could.  They are so relaxed and content when we go on walks or just sit outside under the big shade tree in our front yard.  They love it.  So, I've made every effort to get them out in it.  Of course, it works for me too because I love the sunshine.
Well, this morning I did not let a little sinus pressure keep me down.  We took our baby boys for their 6-month check-up complete with shots (I didn't cry this time) then came home.  After that "trauma" the babies and I laid down to try and nap but with their sore little legs, their sore gums because they are both teething, and Bobby's refusal to take a decent nap (day 4 and counting) I did not sleep.  I felt worse after TRYING to nap than I had before the attempt.  Ah-well.
The only thing to do at this point was to go for a ride.  We, Pete and I, decided to try and make the most of the outing so he would be doing some school work while we walked.  We would be walking to and from different stores where I needed to return some things as well as pick some things up for the kids.
As I was working to get all the boys fed and ready to head out for our ride I realized it was around 2pm and I hadn't eaten since 8am!  In all the hustle and bustle I forgot myself.  This is not an uncommon occurrence, I must admit.  My boys are typically cleaner, fuller and more well-rested than I am.  I also understand that that is the way it is as a parent, a good parent anyway, that your children's needs come first.  I believe it to be true and have been known to say that one cannot be selfish and be a good spouse or parent.  Though I am not perfect and am at times selfish, I can err on the opposite end of that spectrum as well.  In other words, it is just as important to practice self-care as it is self-denial.
I ate before we left.  And I made sure I ate dinner when we returned, only after the boys had been fed and put to bed.  As I sit here reflecting on this day and the past week or two I realize that I have really put myself and my self-care projects on the back burner.  Things have just gotten so busy (but aren't we always busy?) that I haven't been remembering to exercise or read.  In the last week I have maybe read 5 pages.  Reading was something I just remarked on in a previous post, about how much I am enjoying it, and here I am neglecting it.
I know that it will be important as my boys grow to model for them a well-balanced life and I have some work to do before I can display that.  Today, I find myself having to take another look at my life and to do the work of reorganizing time and priorities.  Another important step for me in this is to bring it to you, to remain accountable for doing what I say I will do.
While I would continue to write this blog whether you were reading it or not, it is certainly meaningful to me to share milestones and memories, my inconsistancies and insights with you.  You, my witness and unspoken partner in this wonderful blooming process.
I am ready to end my day, dealing with the same pressure headache and sore throat I woke up with, but with a deep sense of calm and resolve that I did not have this morning.

Home-made

I'm thinking a lot about my baby brother today.  Jeannine, if you're reading this, God bless you for what you're going through right now.  He is out of the country training with the military and will be gone for a month.  I called him the day before he left and was choked up.  I haven't seen him in months and months and was saying goodbye to him over the phone.  It didn't seem right.  I wanted a hug, a face-to-face conversation.  I missed him more at that moment than I maybe ever have.
I'm finding it more and more difficult as we add to our family and as our children grow, to be away from family. It pulls at my heart in a way that I cannot explain.  I know that Pete and the boys are my family and my first priority.  However, the way I grew up aunts, uncles and cousins were close by to celebrate birthdays, spend weekends with, share meals and make it to events like summer soccer games or music recitals.  In the world I grew up in family was a large number of people that were closely related to you by blood, birth or legal adoption.  In the world I currently live in, family is something that you create, not something you are born into.  We have added to our family not only through the birth of our children but by way of a dog named Molly, and a friend who is honorary "Aunt" to our children and who lives up to the title by taking such good care of them.
These dear additions have not replaced the family geographically distant, but have been added to it.
In the world I grew up in church was an extension of the family as well.  As a child it was hard to get away with anything because you would get in trouble with anyone's parents, not just your own!  I would like that kind of support and stability for my children too.  It was a community that cared for one another and helped to not only meet physical needs but to share, teach and love.  I appreciate the stability of the world I grew up in.  Even though the "world" beyond my hometown was tumultuous, I was held steady by the strength of those around me.
I don't want to mislead anyone into thinking my childhood/formative years were idyllic or free of any trouble.  My 9th year of life was provided with a crash course in complicated grief and dealing with the death of a loved one.  The years brought sickness, car accidents, friends moving away and other things that proved difficult to live through and endure.  However, with family (+the extended family) surrounding me, even the difficult times seemed to be more manageable.
I know that God provides.  I've seen it in my life many times.  So as I sit here contemplating the family I have scattered about the United States (and the world) tonight, I am thankful for a God who knows what is weighing on my heart.  He is with that baby brother of mine when I cannot be (and always is).  He knows my needs before I speak them and understands how to respond better than I know how to ask.  He is the Builder of my family and the Maker of my home.

The Power of Words

We had the pleasure of hosting my parents for a quick few days after they spent some time with their newest grandchild, the beautiful Lillian, in New Jersey.  It is always nice to catch up, share time with them and just to see them enjoy their grandchildren.
Of course the children are our main topic of conversation.  I filled my mom in on all of the amazing things our two-year old (he'll be two on Friday!) can say and do; shared our attempts at beginning potty training (initiated by Bobby himself) and the trials of tummy time for the six-month old twins (they aren't often fond of it).
In the course of this conversation we landed on the topic of dealing with the tantrums that are common with the "trying two's".  I expressed that I am trying to remain calm and patient in the midst of all the challenges of parenting a child through the trying twos.  In the midst of my frustration I do not want to use words that would discourage, belittle or attempt to guilt my little one.  I've written before about my commitment to choosing life-giving words that would inspire and encourage.  (I'm not perfect at this, trust me).
As I reflected on this conversation throughout this past week a memory came to my mind and the thought of it just created a knot in my stomach.  It is a perfect illustration of the power of words.

When I was living in Michigan with my parents years ago, I did a lot of babysitting.  One of the families I babysat for was a combined family of two previously married individuals.  Each had children from previous marriages and they had just added a daughter to the family from their union.  This wife liked to talk.  She talked with me a lot before and after the time I was there to watch the children.  She would talk with me as if we were friends or peers even though we were neither.
When I first started working with this family I would drive up to the house and think, 'what a beautiful house'.  It was a two story house, not too big, not too small, on a quiet street not far from the water.  I thought it was ideal, the location, the wooden porch, the sweet shutters on the windows.  Just so homey.
The husband was a quiet man.  I thought he was handsome and kind.  He seemed to love his wife, and even like her-wanting to be around her, telling her how beautiful/smart/fun she was and listening to what she wanted to do for their nights-out together.
The kids were sweet overall, though they presented their own challenges, especially with parental-imposed rules that excluded sweets from the evening menu and television from the entertainment.  We stayed busy with games, reading and even playing some musical instruments.
Without fail, after each visit, the wife would come in and talk to me at length.  It didn't take me long to notice the negative direction of our conversation.  Not only that, but most of the negativity was directed at her husband.  It did not matter if he was out of the house, in the next room or sitting right in front of us, she had a critical remark for him.  She complained about his memory (or lack-thereof as she perceived it); she complained about how he did the dishes, or if he didn't do them; she commented on his appearance and what he chose to wear on their nights out; she frowned at his attempts to flatter her, and rolled her eyes when he shared an idea.
As I contemplated these memories I realized that over the course of time I too had begun to find fault with this man.  He was too short.  His "sweetness" was kind of annoying.  His tennis shoes made him seem older than he was.  Eventually, I became more annoyed with the children and the wife herself as well.  Soon, I dreaded driving down that bumpy road to that old house with the cracked shutters and wooden porch in desperate need of staining.
In retrospect it seems to me that all of the wife's griping, belittling and complaining about her husband made him seem small and unattractive; it made the environment and actual house uninviting at best.  It is no wonder that just a year or two after I stopped working with them this couple split and divorced.  How tragic, really.  Do I think that it was the power of her words that caused the marriage to break apart?  Not singularly, but I do believe it had a profound effect on the health of that marriage.
It still causes me to have a sinking feeling in my stomach when I think about sitting with her in the kitchen as she looked down her nose at him and uttered a belittling remark, and to remember the defeated look on his face...
I've said before that I had determined NOT to be the wife who complained about her husband to others and I want to add that I also try not to be the wife that complains to and/or at her husband as well.  If I have a concern or frustration (with him or otherwise) I try to present it in the least offensive way.  I don't want him to feel he has to defend himself against me from the word go.  Conversation is productive.  Complaining doesn't accomplish anything.
With her words I believe a wife can encourage her husband to be the best he can be.  I hope that Pete would say that  my support encourages him to be a better man.  Do I always agree with him or feel inspired to be that supportive person?  No, but that's what love does: it builds up, it speaks life.
So, I will endeavor to love my husband well with conversation, praising his strengths, encouraging him in those areas where he struggles and choosing respectful words.


Do you complain to your spouse?  How could criticism be turned into productive conversation?

Computer Viruses and Marriage Counseling for the Single Person

I have to admit I'm a little thrown off here.  My computer acquired a virus.  I'm not certain WHEN said virus was acquired but my computer has been giving me some trouble for over two weeks now.  For the last two days I have been unable to even "get on".  So, I had to take the poor little thing to the computer hospital today to get fixed.  I'm using Pete's computer and it doesn't have the same feel as mine does.  It's not a bad computer. But, it's not mine.  Know what I mean?
Enough about my computer woes...
How have you been?  I've been very busy but have not neglected the Wii in keeping with my exercise regimen. I've also noticed that when I am not at work I eat better.  While I forgot to eat until later this afternoon today, what I did eat today was pretty good for me.  My dear husband came home and made a tasty steak dinner for my parents and I.  He's quite an amazing man-leaving for work at 5 a.m., working until 5:30 p.m., then home to make dinner...what did I do to deserve such a man?!

I am a medical social worker by day and a marriage counselor by night.  The latter is the role that truly suits me.  I have so much passion for the work and find myself really investing in my couples.  I have hope for each couple; hope that they can deal with what they need to and that their marriage will be better than they ever thought it could be.  As long as everyone is committed to making things better, it will be better.
And here's a bit of free advise for the single reader:  there are things you can do now to build into your future marriage.  The first is decide what kind of spouse you want to be.  One of the biggies for me while I was single (and I was single until I was 32), was the determination NOT to be one of the wives that complained about her spouse.  Complaining about your spouse only serves to deepen any rift in your relationship.  It's disrespectful and destructive.  As I wrote in my last blog, I try to watch my words and choose words that will be constructive and encouraging.  If I have an issue with my husband I go to him.  It's okay to talk with a close friend about issues that are being dealt with, but putting the blame on him and labeling him is destructive.
Secondly, learn to take responsibility.  We all make mistakes/blunders/faux pas.  We are all wrong at times. Own it.  Suck it up.  Pride is destructive.  If we are proud then we are constantly defending that pride.  When two people are on the defensive it's really hard to find common ground, nearly impossible to move forward.  So, learn to own your stuff now.  That will make it much easier to do when you are in the most important relationship of your life.  This has been difficult for me to live out at times.  I'm human, I want to be right!  But  if I know I'm not right, what's the point in defending myself?  I want to stay connected to my spouse and defending a mistake is a waste of everyone's time and energy and counterproductive to connection.  It has a profound impact on me when my husband admits he's wrong (and does so often without me even having to bring it up).  It deepens my respect for him and my trust in him.  It also encourages me to be responsible when I need to be.
And finally, to the single person seeking to meet that special someone: get to know yourself.  In my single years I learned a lot about myself.  I learned that I am a very particular person.  This is not in and of itself a bad thing, but anyone with a roommate knows you don't always get your way in a living situation.  One of the things I did in effort to "bend" was practicing not caring what way the toilet paper was on the holder, over or under, even though I STRONGLY preferred over and yes, was agitated a bit if the paper ended up under.  But it was a simple exercise meant to serve a greater purpose.  I wanted to become more at ease with differing opinions and lifestyles.  Living with roommates and making it an amiable situation is also good "practice".
I also learned a lot about how I give and receive love.  I highly recommend the  book "The Five Love Languages" by Gary Chapman.  Communication is a biggie in any relationship and understanding how you yourself communicate love will be HUGE in your relationship.  I work with my couples on this 9 times out of 10.  It's often clear that they love each other, they just aren't getting the message.  It was important for me to learn these things about myself and is important for everyone, in my opinion.  It helps to avoid setting unrealistic expectations for your spouse if you understand the way love is communicated by each of you.
And a p.s. on all this talk about being single and seeking a relationship: ENJOY being single.  Five and 1/2 years of marriage and three boys later, I don't remember what it was like to just jump in the car and go to the book store to sip a coffee while browsing the "new in paperback" section.  It sounds dreamy though :)  I wouldn't trade a MINUTE of my married life, but do wish I had allowed myself to savor more of those moments while I was single, even in the midst of that deep desire to share my life with someone.

These are all things that, if you didn't learn while you were single you can start practicing now to improve your marriage.  Practice being respectful and choosing words that would build up your spouse, learn to take responsibility for your part of the problem, learn one other's communication style as it pertains to giving and receiving love.  I am not a perfect person but I do endeavor to be a loving and respectful wife to my husband who I adore.  I try to live these things.
And now, out of respect for Pete and for the love and care of my children, I endeavor to learn to care for myself better.  If exercising, eating better, creating space for quiet time, talking more with God can prolong my life or even enhance my wellness now, then I want to be doing it.  Creating, growing, blooming...


What steps will you take to improve your relationship and enhance your "wellness" now?

Um...Update

I recently reread my very first post and realized that I have not done all that I said that I would.  My initial intention was to try new things, especially as it pertained to diet and exercise, and to share the results with you.  While I have been trying new things and hinting about these things in my posts I have not out-and-out updated.  So, I will sum up my progress to date.

My Wii fit age, if you will remember from almost 3 weeks ago, was 47.  I have since been working out 3 days a week with Wii fit, doing yoga and some aerobics and as of today my Wii fit age is now 37!  That means my body is getting stronger, not that I have lost any weight, because I haven't.
Exercising with the Wii has been my most consistent and effective change to date.  This is my strong point. 
Weakness #1-food.  I tend to eat what I want, when I want.  Which would be cookies and all the time.  Okay, maybe not all cookies all the time, but sometimes it seems like it!  I have an insatiable sweet tooth and that is my downfall when it comes to eating.
Weakness #2-meditation/prayer/quiet time.  I am finding that the few minutes I may have to myself in the bathroom is where I pause to think, pray, read an inspirational passage, etc.  (I emphasize "may have" because days can go by without time alone even in the bathroom.  Bobby knocks on the door saying, "Hi.  Hi.  Mom.  Hi." which warms my heart but is counterproductive to quiet time).
I have been doing some reading that I enjoy, usually at night when all my guys are asleep and I am awake (don't know why I can't go right to sleep too!)  or  for a few minutes on a day off from work.  This is just a nice way to relax for a few minutes, to slip into a story and allow imagination to transport me.  Yes, I am truly enjoying reading.
The result of all of these efforts and observations have been: some improvement in the quality of the time I spend with those around me-making more effort to be in the moment; becoming more aware of what I am eating and realizing the dire need for a change (my blood sugar has been controlled very well with the new medication, by the way); making the most of any down time to relax or just enjoy 'being'; and really enjoying regular exercise (I feel SO GOOD after yoga!).

So, that is it in a nutshell.  The above is most likely packed with run-on sentences and could have been simply bullet-pointed, but how much fun would that be to read?  I am not where I want to be yet.  I'm not happy with the way that I eat and in the next month will strive to make more changes in that area.
Godspeed to any of you who are attempting to make healthy changes in your own life; Godspeed to you as you bloom.

The Trying Twos or "Trying-To"(s)

Yes, it is that time in the life of our family to welcome the era of the two-year-old.  Bobby will be two in about two weeks.  We have been, however, experiencing "signs of the times", what some would call the Terrible Twos.  I've decided that we will not be referring to this phase as the terrible twos because there is nothing terrible about life with our Bobby.  It is, however, trying at times these days, and so I have deemed this season of life the "Trying Twos".  Certain behaviors are most certainly trying on the patience and will power of a parent such as I.  I believe this name is extremely fitting our thoughts and circumstances at this time.
I wanted to rename this period of life for another reason.  I truly believe in the power of the spoken word.  Some of the terms and phrases we throw around can be stigmatizing and harmful or at the very least unproductive or not beneficial.  As I have tried to be more aware of this journey of life, this process of Blooming, this is one area that has struck a chord with me. 
Do you know, I can still remember the first time an adult called me "obnoxious", or some of the names I was called on the playground.  In the same token I can remember some of the names I chose for those I didn't care for and first time and adult apologized to me.  I have long since left the playground behind me, but the point that these words made enough of an impact to be carried in memory for over a quarter of a century is clear.
So, in light of this consideration, I want to be aware of the words I speak, including silly labels such as Terrible Twos.  This can be a challenge as some of the things Bobby has been doing these days makes me wonder what is happening here!  Sometimes I want to ask, "what in the world were you thinking?"  As a baby this child never picked things up off the ground/floor/etc and put them directly in his mouth.  Now at the ripe age of two he has decided this is the time to do that.  Tiny stones, pieces of paper bags, two-week old cheerios that rolled beneath the kitchen table...just a few months ago this same child would pick up the tiniest scrap off of the floor, proceed to the garbage can, throw the item away and leave the rest of the garbage undisturbed.  I found this to be amazing.  This is why I wonder, "what in the world were you thinking?"  or "where is my child who threw things away instead of attempting to eat them?"
Another very interesting phenomenon is the struggle with communication.  This boy is so smart.  He was reading a book today.  And I mean, reading the words.  "Ball".  "Hat". "Hair".  Now, he can't say the words clearly yet so if he were to say "hat" without the book in front of him I wouldn't know what he was saying, but with the book there it all makes sense.  So, we've established intelligence and I tell you this because I also believe sometimes with intelligence comes a certain level of frustration in other areas not-yet mastered.  For Bobby this area would be communicating what he means-he knows what he wants to say but doesn't quite have the words for it all yet.  Especially as it pertains to communicating his needs/desires to his parents.  In attempts to understand what it is he would like to eat/read/watch/play/etc we go through a little guessing game.  We hold up books/products/cans/games/etc in hopes of figuring out just what it is he's trying to tell us.  There are some things that are well established in our routine and require little to no guessing.  However, for the rest of it if these needs/desires are not ascertained within a minimal amount of time then our boy exhibits feet stomping, crying, and sometimes screaming.  Very trying on the patience and the nerves. 
In all of this pseudo confusion and clear frustration I know it's important that Bobby understands that there is nothing wrong with him and that together we will work it out.  So, I swallow those things I'd like to say (or shout) and simply say, "Son, Son," (I often have to say it more than once to get his attention at this point, "Son.  Look at me.  Let's figure it out.  Do you want cheese?  Do you want raisins?"  And so the guessing goes.  But the important part comes at the beginning.  I make sure he sees in my face and hears in my voice and words that we are going to take the time to work it out together. 
When I explained this process to a co-worker friend of mine and reiterated to her that it is often hard to keep up with the guessing game or put of with the fits of frustration as I'm trying so hard for my part to figure it out, she said, "very aptly named."  (Referring to the Trying Twos) and she went on, "because everyone is trying to, aren't they?"  The Trying Twos or the Trying To-s.  Absolutely.  Props to Maggie for that play on words.
So as my firstborn son continues to bloom we enter this phase with determination to choose, speak and teach words that would create, encourage and inspire.  And with love we all keep trying to...

The Avon Lady is In

I really should be asleep right now.  I'll be shuttling Mimi and Papa to the airport tomorrow while Cindy watches my sleeping babes (bless her heart) at 0:dark30 in the morning.  It's on the eve of the days I know I have to get up that I typically have the most trouble sleeping, so here I sit pondering.

I just started with Avon!  I'm very excited about that.  It's been a week and I think it's just fun!  If you've never been a representative for a home sales company but have wanted to try one Avon is the most user friendly company I've found.  I've been involved with a couple other companies, the experiences with which made me think a full week before signing on with Avon.  It was quick and painless and as I've already said, I'm enjoying it.  I'm not here to sell you on Avon (or am I?) but I realized something very interesting today about this experience thus far. 
I'm a part time medical social worker, part time marriage counselor, full time wife and mom.  Today the part time medical social worker had a diversity council summit to attend.  It was a really thought-provoking day and I'm grateful I was able to participate in it.  We were asked early in the day during an ice breaker activity, to share what we hoped to achieve by being involved in the diversity council.  I said my hope was to AT LEAST help colleagues and coworkers to increase their sensitivity to the individual person they are serving.  This might sound like a bit of a cop-out but I wanted to have realistic expectations.  Rome wasn't built in a day, after all.  When affecting change you have to start small.  (That includes change within your/myself).
As I contemplated my goal later in the day I realized this really is at the core of my clinical social worker's training.  We were given the mantra early in graduate school to "meet the client where they are at".  That mantra followed me through my Masters program and into my career's work.  It is a fitting statement in approaching the treatment of a diverse patient/client base.  The same is true in encounters with the diverse population of people I work with.
Enter Avon.  One of the reasons I wanted to start with Avon at this time is because I wanted to do a fund raiser for a coworker of mine whose husband has been in the hospital for two months after a severe brain bleed that will keep him hospitalized and in rehab for some time.  She is the dearest, sweetest woman, and the two of them would do anything for anyone.  Avon is very good about helping their representative with fundraising efforts.  I decided that the first two months as an Avon representative I would donate a portion of my earnings to this couple.  I brought my books (catalogs) to work and let everyone know that a portion of the money from their orders would be going to our friend and colleague.
One of the women I work with placed an order early on and we were able to talk hair care products, skin products and fun stuff like that.  It was enjoyable talking to her, as most of what we had ever talked about in the past was patient-related.  This opened up more opportunities to talk with her in the next few days.  At the end of last week I noticed that she looked a bit upset.  I took the time to ask her how she was and became available to her in case she needed to talk.  She did need to talk.  She was able to share some concerns about a relationship in her life that was causing her stress.  We talked about it a bit, I offered encouragement to her as I could but mostly just listened.  I met her where she was at, and "where she was" or what she needed at that moment was simply to talk it out.
After talking with her that afternoon, thoughts of her stayed with me.  I was able to pray for her when I knew she would be encountering this difficult person, I offered her further encouragement and support.  It felt good to be of use to this colleague outside of the work environment and it seemed to me that it was Avon that paved the way for that opportunity.
So, I'm excited about Avon.  Not just the great sterling silver jewelry or the skin care products, but the opportunities it will afford for relationship-building and opportunities to serve others.  To serve not only as their Avon Representative ("Avon Lady") but as a person who cares about their wellbeing, a person with increased sensitivity to the individuals I will be serving.

What have you done lately that had you feeling good about helping someone?

It's a Twin's Life

Theodore Nelson and Samuel Francis were born at 3:35 p.m. and 3:36 p.m. respectively on March 18th.  A multiple pregnancy is something that would require another entry or two to talk about.  It was amazing but also physically and emotionally challenging.  It was a bit daunting standing at the window to the nursery just two days after their birth, pointing out Teddy and Sam to their 17-month-old big brother.  I had a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of having two babies to bring home with us.  As I think back, it's hard to believe how seamless the transition was.  Big-brother Bobby took to his role with ease.  For the first few days he didn't like it when the two would cry.  He would cry too, point to them and say, "Baby" as if pleading with us to make it stop.  It didn't take long for him to get past that and soon he began to mimic what he saw mom and dad do when the babies cried.  He brings toys to them, pats their heads, rubs their bellies or covers them with blankets.  He is such a sweet boy.
At first I wondered how we were going to tell them apart.  They looked so much alike with BIG chubby cheeks and little dark eyes.  The only thing that really stood out was the difference in their complexion.  It didn't take long however before the differences in their looks as well as their personalities shown through.  Sam is a sweet docile little guy with a dimple in his left cheek.  He loves to cuddle.  Teddy is an outgoing boy with wide eyes.  He is a mover.  They are alike in the ways that most brothers are alike: the enjoy mealtime, like to play, and laugh when they watch big brother and Molly-dog chase eachother. 
I wonder if you can tell what kind of a child/teenager/adult someone will be by watching them when they are just six-months old.  If you can tell, I wonder what this says about Teddy and Sam:

The other day I was juggling three little boys during mealtime.  Teddy was the least urgent as evidenced by his lack of fussing or crying.  I had given the babies part of their bottles and Teddy acted as though he were done while Sam still wanted his.  Bobby was in the kitchen and I could hear the refrigerator door opening.  (Yes, Bobby gets into the refrigerator on his now and has for a couple months at least!)  Thankfully, Sam is able to hold his own bottle.  So as Bobby began making his wishes known at the top of his lungs, I put Sam and Teddy in their crib (they do share a crib for the time being) and made sure Sam had a good hold on his bottle.
I was in the kitchen long enough to ascertain that Bobby required a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and string cheese before I heard Sam begin to cry.  I entered the room and saw Teddy with Sam's bottle in the crook of his arm and his leg on Sam's stomach.  I put the bottle back in Sam's mouth and helped him get a good hold on it again, then moved Teddy over to his corner of the crib.  For good measure I turned on the mobile to give Teddy something to focus on because apparently he was bored.
I went back into the kitchen to prepare the pb and j I had promised Big Brother as he sat chewing on his string cheese.  There was just enough time for me to spread the peanut butter before Sam was crying again.  I went back in the room to find the bottle again in Teddy's arm and Teddy resting an open hand on Sam's head as if to comfort him.  Teddy's face was so calm and innocent it made the situation that more comical, though I know Sam didn't think it was funny. However, mom is a fast learner, I returned the bottle to Sam and put Teddy in his swing!

It's so much fun to watch the twin baby boys interact.  When one cries the other seems to reach out with a hand (or a foot) as if to comfort them.  I've seen them lock eyes and exchange smiles.  They both pay very close attention to their big brother too.  Such precious little ones.  There are times they both do need something at the same time but we all just work it out somehow.  The babies seem to understand that they are not the only one.  This life with three boys would be all the more difficult if they were not so patient.  I am sure, as time goes by, that there will be much more to share and while I may not have a plan for every circumstance, I look forward to what is to come.

Thick as Thieves

I had considered titling this post "Molly + Bobby=WMD" but decided against it.  But to say that our little Westie, Molly and our soon-to-be-two year old Bobby are thick as thieves is also true.  Perhaps their destruction is not "mass", just local.  Let me tell you about it.

Pete says I have the magic touch with scratch offs.  He doesn't win when he does it, but apparently there's something about the way I "scratch" that just results in the win.  Hence the 30% off at Kohls this week.  I scratched.  30% was the highest discount you could get and we got it!  So, after cleaning the kitchen, bathing all three boys, enjoying their nap time (they all napped at the same time today-a truly momentous ocassion) exercising and making sure everyone was fed, we loaded up in the ole mini van and headed off to Kohls. 
Cindy met us there and we all enjoyed a couple of hours (give or take) of walking around the store, looking at baby clothes, jewelry and men's clothes.  Bobby liked to touch the long necklaces as if he were fluffing them and would say, "Wow!"  He had had a 2 and 1/2 hour nap which is virtually unheard of for that boy, so he had energy TO BURN!  ...energy to burn as evidenced by running through the aisles, pushing shopping carts carrying baby-brothers-in-car-seats into manequins, yelling, "HI!" to every passer-by and playing with the swinging doors behind the jewelry counter.  My son is as cute as can be.  Even though it was getting to be a little overwhelming for me to try and keep up with, it just made me chuckle because he is so darn cute!
By the end of our little outing all boys were a bit testy.  After some crackers and juice were put in his lap Bobby felt better.  Sam, however did not stop crying until we were about 2 blocks from home and then he fell asleep.  Teddy was asleep when we arrived home and if he had been awake during the last 1/2 of the car trip I never would have known.  So, I promptly unloaded all boys and purchases into the house hoping to sneak a few to-dos in before the babies awoke.  No such luck.  Molly, who is newly released from the crate after breaking her pelvis in 3 places earlier this summer, was estatic to see us and had many licks, coos and "woofs" to assure the babes would not continue in their sleep.
Now, I need to interject something here.  You probably thought, "Awww, poor dog," when you read that Molly had broken her pelvis.  Let me tell you, she has a mind of her own and no amount of human training, reasoning, pleading, beaconing or the like will sway her from her own will.  Couple that with some jaunting squirrels just outside the van window on the sidewalk and, boom, you've got a 13 pound bundle flying out the window of a moving vehicle.  She handled her injury and subsequent surgery and isolation very well but now I'm sure you can imagine her excitement as she is free from the crate and able to interact with us all again.  With her strength gaining her energy level seems to be increasing as well. 
Okay, so, we return from Kohls with two hungry babies, a hungry toddler and return to a pent-up energetic doggy.  I took the twins into the bedroom to feed them while Bobby and Molly played together.  They both like to play chase.  The funny thing is that Molly likes to be chased and so does Bobby.  But Molly has it worked out so that Bobby is chasing her but THINKS she is chasing him, so everybody's happy.  It's quite comical to watch.  During this game of chase Bobby periodically stopped in the bedroom to say, "Up, up."  This translated means he wanted to get up on the bed with me and his brothers.  I explained that the brothers were eating and he would be able to get up in a little bit before bedtime.  Well, the stop in the bedroom was just for a breather because he barely waited for an answer before he was off again.  In between his stops in the bedroom I could hear a bag rustling in the living room.  I imagined it was the Kohl's bag and immediately wondered what Bobby was after in there.  (Socks aren't the most fun to play with).  Once the babies were done eating I turned my attention to the little boy who then needed to be fed.  When I entered the living room I could not believe what I was seeing.
"HEY!!!" I yelled as sternly as I could muster as I watched my son and my dog ripping the Kohls bag to shreds as though they were ripping open a present on Christmas morning.  (That is exactly how they open gifts.  Molly helps and they rip the paper to bits.)  And so it was with the Kohls bag-to SHREDS.  I was frustrated and would have been more upset but I could just imagine my husband Pete coming up on this scene and how it would make him laugh.  So, I just kept that image in mind and calmly told Bobby to help mom clean up the mess he had made.  Ever so obediently, and is if nothing at all had happened, Bobby helped me clean up the mess.  Bits of bag, receipts, socks wrappers and tags were gathered and thrown, away.
Despite the occasional and inadvertant destruction it is great fun to watch Bobby and Molly interact.  And so it is with the picture of a boy and his dog amid shreds of plastic bags that I close my eyes to sleep tonight.  What have you experienced that could have made you mad but caused you to laugh instead?

Suffering Produces...Hope

I'm sure many of us did a lot of reflecting today.  We all have stories of where we were when we heard about the airplanes flying into the twin towers.  We remember the confusion that followed and soon after, the horror as the towers fell and stories from what has come to be known as "ground zero" started flooding our television, radio stations and email inboxes.
As I thought about that morning ten years ago, a beautiful sunny and crisp morning in Michigan, I recalled listening to the local family/Christian music station.  I was in my second year of graduate school at Michigan State for Clinical Social Work and was on my way to class.  The morning show duo shared the first bit of news.  It was all confusing at first and thought to maybe be some kind of accident. 
My class commenced as usual but about 10-15 minutes into the class cell phones started ringing.  One of my classmates took the call in the hallway and came back into the room with a look of shock on her face.  She walked straight into the middle of class, holding up her phone she said, "Something's happening.  We're being attacked.  They've flown two planes into the World Trade Center."
Others started taking their calls or listening to messages and the professor promptly cancelled the class and recommended we all go home.
The minutes, hours, days that followed are fuzzy.  I believe not only I, but humanity, was experiencing the effects of shock and horror.  First the disbelief and numbness in attempt to grasp what we've just been told, then the sense of deep sadness as the gravity of reality sets in.  After that, anxiety and fear can take hold as normal, everyday activites don't seem so "normal" anymore.
Today we reflect on a national (and really it goes beyond nationality) tragedy and the events of that day ten years ago.  But on a personal level we all have other dates and events and tragedies; stories of "where we were when...".  I myself remember where I was when at just 9 years old I was told that my grandma had "gone to heaven".  This was the first death of a loved one I had ever experienced close up.  I know where I was when at 17 years of age I was told that I had cancer.  On September 11, 2001 I had no idea that in almost exactly two months I would be diagnosed with another disease, diabetes.  I remembered that today too.  All life-altering events.  But not all of that "life-altering" was negative.  I've learned so much about coping, caring for others, sharing burdens, how to see the good in a bad situation.  I believe through all that I've lived in this life I have become stronger and more compassionate.
As you continue to reflect on the tragedy of September 11th and your own personal trials, consider how you may have been changed for the better through your suffering.

"...we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope."

Romans 5:3-4 (NIV)

If it Doesn't Smell Like Spit-up, it's Clean

It was another one of those days.  The kind of day where you have not a minute to yourself.  It started out with poor Bobby waking up on the wrong side of the crib.  After holding him for about 45 minutes, sobbing, coaxing a pediasure down him, he went back to bed for more (much needed) sleep.  Unfortunately, he didn't wake from the nap in a much better mood.
Sam is doing this thing where he avoids sleeping during the daytime and just cries about being tired instead.  So, there was that.  And God be praised, Ted, my steady Teddy, he was smiling and laughing all day long.  Ted helped relieve some of the pressure and demands that his brothers were imposing on me.
I had all three little lads in the basement with me for workout time.  This is where "the other side" of Bobby emerged today.  After deeming Bobby nothing short of patience itself just two days ago I was forced to deal with patience's rival.  While he tried to do a yoga pose or two with mom he mostly pried toys out of the babies hands (his "old" toys), chased the dog around the very small exercise space, climbed the stairs and tugged on mom.  It's very hard to hold the palm tree pose when you have a two year old pulling on your pants.  (Or pushing your butt during sun salutation.)
There was never one moment that was overwhelming, it was just a little "pick" here and a little "pick" there that added up to pick, pick, pick, pick, pick and by 5:30 p.m. when Pete called to say he was on his way home, I had had it!  I thought as soon as Pete got home I'd run out the door.  I could visualize myself somewhere, standing all alone.  It didn't matter where I was in this vision, what did matter is that I was all alone.
I'll tell you what though, I caved in today.  For the sake of remaining a calm and loving parent, I caved in today.  We have been weaning Bobby from his pacifier so he is allowed to have it at nap times, night time and out in public only in case of emergency.  Well, this afternoon, as if to try and cork the steady flow of, "MOM!  MORE!  BOB!" and the ever-so-frequent crying fit, I popped the ole' pacifier right in his mouth.  He welcomed it with a, "Mmmmm."  As if to say, "Ahhh, all better."  I had no idea until that moment what weaning him off of that thing has been like for him.  It seems as though it's akin to the chocoholic who is trying to "cut back" or the caffeine addict who gives up coffee for Lent.  And so it is with my child and the pacifier.  Cranky, moody, temperamental but give him that pluggie (chocolate/caffeine) and he's right as rain.
Even with the pluggie intervention there were still enough meltdowns to warrant a mommy escape after daddy got home.  The escape was in the form of a quick ride to a neighborhood restaurant with a girlfriend of mine.  We were going to have a drink and then I was going to bring dinner home for Pete and I.
I WAS STILL IN MY PAJAMAS at 6 p.m. when Pete walked in the door.  I quickly blotted on some makeup, brushed my hair (for the first time today) and put on some clothes.  My friend decided she would drive so I could rest and have a drink at the restaurant.  As I sat waiting for her to climb into the drivers side I noticed I had something on my jeans.  I checked out the shirt I had put on and noticed a spot there as well.  Quickly, I sniffed it.  Nothing.  I tried to scratch it off.  Nothing.  Cindy looked at me quizically.  "If it doesn't smell like spit-up, then it's clean, " I said.  (Told you I was going to be real here!)
It is amazing and miraculous how one short hour without anyone hanging on you, or calling your name can be so rejuvinating.  The bitter sweet beer.  The appetizers.  The din of the Friday-night-dining crowd.  Casual conversation with a friend.  It all served my body and soul as a few minutes in a hot tub, time alone in a bookstore, time in worship, or even a chair massage might have done.  All I can say is that by the time I returned home I was ready to hear my name again, to hold those sweet babies, to deal with the crying. 
I held each one of my boys in my arms before they went to bed tonight.  Feeding Teddy, rocking Sam, watching Bobby play "angry birds" as he sucked away on his comforting pacifier.  I breathed deeply and smelled their hair, touched their little hands and feet, looked down into their faces, relishing every single second with them.  It was another one of those days.  The kind of day where you don't have a minute to yourself but you go to bed thanking God for the miracle of your children, the love of your husband, for every provision and for the chance to live this life.

Patience, my boy.

I had a revelation today.  Is that the same as "learning a lesson"?  Because I definitely learned something from my 23-month old.  I don't believe I even realized it at the time, but it dawned on me as I sat down to write tonight.  So, here's the story:

I worked out today (day two-woot woot!) and since the Wii is in the basement I had to bring Bobby down with me.  The twins were fast asleep upstairs and I had the baby monitor on.  Bobby has a toy box in the basement and some special, larger toys that there is no room for in our living room.  He had just woken from his nap and was happy to come downstairs to visit these special toys.  But for most of the time (35 minutes) he sat on the couch and watched the virtual trainer and myself as we worked at toning abs, strengthening hips and thighs, burning calories.  As I think back on it's impressive how calm and patient he was. 

Fast forward 5 1/2 hours to this evening.  The baby boys were both fussy and needing a bottle, holding and sleep.  It is a trip, let me tell you, to feed two babies at once!  It's more difficult when they both want to be held or rocked to sleep.  The one in your arms is always distracted by the one on the bed crying and you're feeling guilty for leaving someone on the bed crying but trying to focus on the one in your arms...it's a vicious cycle.  Thankfully it's not the majority of our life experience with these boys.  But, you can imagine what a state a mom (or dad) would be in in the midst of all of this.  So, that was me, this evening.  With one in my arms fighting sleep, another on the bed crying.  All of a sudden Bobby enters the room and yells at the top of his lungs, "BOB!!!"

Interjection:  "Bob" as in Bob the Builder, yes.  But, "Bob" could also mean Thomas the Train, Curious George or Veggie Tales.  Since he can say "Bob" he uses that word for any and all of the shows he likes to watch.  This is usually followed by a guessing game which also involves me asking if he means "Thomas?" or "George?" or "Veggie Tales?"  I have to admit it can be frustrating.

Okay, so in comes Bobby and yells, "Bob!" which causes the little one in my arms to jump and the one on the bed to turn it up a notch (now he's startled AND hungry). 
"Bobby!"  I say as sternly as possible so he understands how important it is, "Please be quiet, your brothers are trying to sleep!"
With all the racket he probably thought, "Yeah, right, mom.  Doesn't sound like it to me."  Whatever his thought process, he persisted in his quest to have the television turned on to one of his favorite shows.  He continued, "Bob.  PEEEEEEAS."  Adding the "please" with the hope this will help get him what he wants.

In the meantime, I've fed one baby and have him calmed and am now feeding the second.  I try to reason with the 23-month old by telling him I shut the television off because he left the room.  He had been watching Thomas the Train and had not finished the episode.  This of course was NOT the intended response from me.  Bobby clearly wanted action as he ran in and out of the room saying, "Bob.  Bob.  Peeeeeeeas.  More.  Bob."  Irritated I turned the episode back on, helped Bobby on the bed with my free hand and finished calming the baby in my arms and put him in his bed.

When all was quiet I had a chance to process.  What Bobby needed at that moment was the same thing the babies needed.  My attention.  He wasn't trying to be demanding.  He too was fighting sleep and wanted to be held by his mom.  During the course of the day Bobby has to sacrifice time and attention due to the needs of his baby brothers, and he is so gracious about it.  And of course there are the times he's told "no" or "wait" because I'm doing something I need to do as well.  I remembered how, just this morning, he had sat so patiently as I exercised.  He played by himself so well and allowed me to do what I needed to do for myself.  (Side note: it was so cute, I asked him if he was going to exercise with me and he said, "yeah" and promptly grabbed up his blanket and sat on the couch to watch.)

I can learn grace and patience from that little boy who is so gracious and patient with me as I tend to the needs of not one, but two baby brothers; the boy who helps with his brothers of his own accord and who picks up his toys without being asked.  I hope to keep this perspective in my heart and mind the next time I find myself in the midst of what Pete and I like to call "the perfect storm".  It would be easy to be frustrated, but instead I want to respond like Bobby would.

What important lessons have you learned from a child?

Wiiiiiiiii

I did it.  With much pomp and circumstance I spent 25 minutes with the Wii today.
It didn't come easy, I assure you.  When my 23-month old son is down for his nap and the 5-month old twins are chillin' on their own I have to quickly decide how I want to spend those precious moments!  Shower?  Read for a few minutes?  Complete a task on my never-ending "to do" list?  Use the bathroom in silence?  And the list goes on.  Since my recent trip to the doctor and resulting resolution to eat better and increase physical activity I have to add exercise to that list.  And exercise is exactly what I did today.

Determining to do the exercise was the first big step.  Finding the disc for Wii Fit was the second hurdle to overcome.  We have three levels in our home.  Each level is equipped with a tv.  Each tv has had the Wii hooked up to it in the last year.  I had to search each "station" on each floor in search of said disc.  To no avail.  I then enlisted Pete to help me in my quest (I could sense the free/peaceful moments slipping away, like sand through the hourglass).  He too looked on each level of our home, finally to return to the basement to suggest I look in the drawer at the bottom of our entertainment center, which of course held the Wii Fit disc.

I got the Wii Fit step in place, hooked the remote control on my wrist and pushed "A" to begin.  I followed the prompts on the screen only to find that the power button on the fitness step wasn't working.  I pushed with my foot, pushed with my finger.  Lifted it, returned it to the floor, pressed again.  I picked it up, shook it.  Nothing.  Pete came to assist me in this and determined that perhaps the batteries were dead.  I went and found 4 AA batteries to replace the old ones and put them in.  No joy.  Again, I asked Pete to help problem solve.  He looked at my work and switched the batteries around.  I had put them in backwards...+/-...whatever.

Finally, I was ready to begin!  Oops, not supposed to wear shoes on the Wii Fit board/step thing...stopped, took off my shoes, ready now!  And so I began.  It had been 863 days since I had last signed in to work out with Wii Fit.  So, okay, it's been YEARS since I've exercised at home...I said I wasn't going to sugar coat any of this.  And in the spirit of full disclosure, my Wii fitness age is 47.  Ouch.  They don't pull any punches during training either.  I was receiving prompts that said, "Your body is weak" and the rating of "Couch potato" during and at the end of each exercise.  The virtual trainer would say, "Good job!" and "Keep going!" while I was in the midst of an exercise but afterward he would say things like, "Your left side is very weak" or "I noticed you took a break during that exercise.  Those muscles won't work themselves out."  I didn't take it personaly and put in my full 25 minutes anyway.  (I'll show that virtual trainer!)

I have a lot of work to do here!  The upside is that my weight is "normal".  BMI could/should be reduced by 5 and I really need to work on strenghtening.  All in all I felt very good about the time I spent and was able to do things that at the start I didn't think I'd be able to do.  It was the completion of a task I had challenged myself to complete that was so very rewarding. I may have become overly zealous as later in the afternoon I went for a walk with a friend and all three of my boys.  We were gone for over an hour.  My glutes are complaining, friends. 

Wii Fit works for me.  What exercises have you all found that work best for you?  Have any good core-building exercises you could share with me?

Hasta luego!

Moment by Moment

Isn't it amazing how a day can start one way and end totally the opposite?

Sunday mornings are difficult for my family.  With two infants and one soon-to-be two-year-old it's difficult to get our act together and be places on time.  This day was no exception.  We were able to make it to church on time.  Bobby was having another rough morning (he is typically ready to go down for a nap right around the time our service is in full swing).  His new thing is to yell, "Mom."  Through the house, first thing in the morning when he's ready to get up, in the store, and yes-in church.  And typically the twins are sleeping through the service, but not today.  Bobby yelling, "Mom" as I played my guitar with the praise band, the twins crying intermittently...this was our church experience today.

With three children under the age of two you can just imagine how quickly we go through a box of diapers.  Diapers.  Wipes.  Formula.  Necessity dictated that on our way back from church we stop at Target to pick up these items.  Cue the mini-meltdown.  Poor Bobby was just so tired at this point he could not hold it together in the store.  We got what we needed and got out of there.  The car ride home was unpleasant at best and Pete and I were on edge. 

Needless to say, it was a train wreck of a morning.

But even in the midst of that "wreck" I found myself subconsciously or automatically remaining in the moment.  I didn't allow the crying fits or the tension to cause me to retreat within myself, wishing away each minute of discomfort.  I hung with it all.  And I noticed that as the day progressed I was able to breathe easier, remain calm in the midst of struggles with an exhausted son (who rested in bed but never did sleep), to read a book for a few minutes, to sit on my porch with my boys and enjoy the breeze...
I didn't get done all I wanted to today.  Things didn't start out as hoped or planned.  In spite of it all, patience proved to be invaluable in reclaiming the day as I encountered moment by precious moment.

Losing My Grip (on Grace)

Have you ever had one of those days where it seems as though you are on the outside looking in?  Today was one of those days for me.  I'm not sure if it was exhaustion or if I'm just losing it here, but I felt as though I were watching myself go throughout the day today and I must say I wasn't thrilled with my "performance".  Bobby was whining all day.  We were at a church picnic this morning and he was unhappy with pretty much everything.  I thought I had control of my frustration as I tried to work with him.  Pete (my husband) commented that I should lower my voice because I was coming across in a way that I wouldn't want to; a way that is not like me.  (I later wondered, 'if I "sounded" like that, does it mean I am that?)
Even after a mid-day nap with a wrestless Sam by my side my ability to cope with the crying and fuss from my 5-month old twins was minimal.  I snapped at Pete; tried desperately to calm Teddy, then Sam, then Bobby, then Sam again; attempted to sit down and eat dinner in one sitting(didn't happen); made effort at organizing the kitchen; all while trying to be gracious about giving Pete the time and space to get his work done for school. 
I watched myself eat junk today without a second thought.  I justified it by saying, 'once this is gone we won't buy anymore, then I'll be forced to eat better'.  No wonder I feel slow and tired and not myself today...
The boys are in bed now.  Pete is wrapping up his work.  I sit alone with a headache and reflect on the day.  Was I the person I wanted to be today?  Nope.  The forbearance of my family and friends as I struggled through has allowed me to experience grace.  Grace: a sweet goodnight hug and kiss from my Bobby, snuggling with my twins as they finally give in to sleep, a tender look from my husband, breathing deeply and allowing myself to consider how much WORSE the day could have been as I realize that I am truly exhausted.
Another deep breath.  Reflect on the beauty of this day.  Whisper a reminder to be patient with myself. Grab onto grace and hold on.

Small Stuff = Important Stuff

As I live out this committment toward blooming mentally, physically and spiritually I am careful not to become legalistic.  I have a tendency to be a bit harsh with myself and can very easily feel guilty for perceived failure.  And so today, I moved the Wii to the basement where I will begin my work-outs with Wii fit.  I did not have the time to work-out today, but, even the small stuff if important stuff.  Baby step: take the Wii to the basement. 

The Spiritual power of a pedicure

I don't know if it was the massaging chair, the warm water, the lower leg and foot massage or the pretty flower painted on the nail of each big toe...somewhere during this evening's pedicure I began to breathe more slowly, felt my shoulders relax, halted my racing mind and experienced each moment of time as my friend Cindy and I allowed ourselves to transcend into a state of calm and relaxation.
I am serious when I say I experienced something spiritual during that pedicure.  I have come away from it with a sense of serenity (deeper than relaxation).  This night I am living testimony to the benefits of self-care and have never felt it's benefits more acutely!
Thanks again to Cindy for encouraging me to get out for a little "girl time" and to be good to myself.

"Not So Fast" and "What the Doctor Said"

One of the first things I should share about myself is that I'm an ideas person. I can become so easily inspired and really think up some great stuff! Where I lack inspiration, or discipline is in the follow-through. My shared grand ideas are usually followed by warnings from those who know me best: "Not so fast". "Stop". "Think". "Plan". Then initiate. I tend to skip the thinking and planning, heading straight for the excitement of initiation.

I want this to be different...it all started with what my doctor told me yesterday. But first, some history.

The day before my 28th birthday I was diagnosed with diabetes at the clinic on the campus of Michigan State University where I was attending graduate school. There was no education or planning, just a simple question, "has anyone ever told you you're diabetic?" and a presciption for some pill to take.

Over the course of the past ten years I have learned much about diabetes. Most of what I've learned comes in large part from my friend Kristi, who was diagnosed just a year before me and was my college roommate at the time of my diagnosis. (No, diabetes is not contagious!) She passed on all her knowledge of diabetes treatment and management to me and steered me toward endochronologists who helped to empower their patients rather than make them feel guilty about their disease.

Of my own accord I have been managing my diabetes with insulin for the past 8 years. I found it beneficial for maintaining tight control over blood sugar levels. Most recently I have used the newest in technology with the insulin pump and then the pod (tubeless insulin therapy-send me a message if you want to know more about either).

In the midst of this I have experienced something strange. While no endochronologist has ever been certain of my diagnosis (Type I or II) because I'm not stereotypical of either, I have more often than not been treated as Type II. (My pancreas produces some amount of insulin). During pregnancy, as with any diabetic, my need for insulin rises. But in my experience (and this is that "something strange") after giving birth I require absolutely no insulin or pill therapy. My bloodsugar levels are completely normal for usually up to 2 months.

That brings us to what the doctor said yesterday. I returned to my endochronologist 5 months after giving birth to my twin boys. My bloodsugar levels had been slightly high but I was using bare minimum of insulin, not even on a daily basis.

After talking with me about the past 5 months she said, "Want to try a pill?" I eagerly said yes! Get off of insulin? Um, yes...Then she said what leads us to the reason for this blogs very existence: "If all goes well on the pill, maybe we can work to manage this with diet and exercise."

Those were the magic words. No insulin. No pill. Managing with a healthy lifestyle-diet and exercise...

All kinds of ideas came flooding in about how I would do this, and do that to make sure that I could come off of treatment altogether. However, I realized something in the midst of all these inspirational thoughts and ideas: I do not want to fizzle out on this the way I do when I skip the steps necessary to success! Hence, this blog.

I want to use this time and space to present my ideas, thoughts and plans. Then, to share with you the results of those plans as I carry them out. I have stated that my overall goal is to bloom mentally, physically and spiritually; to acheive that state of healthful beauty and vigor.

Physically: I plan to read A LOT about healthy eating and find a way to eat healthy that makes sense to me and fits into my lifestyle. I will post the things I try and how it went, including how it effected my bloodsugar levels. I also intend to begin exercising. With three boys under the age of two, and two part-time jobs this will probably present my biggest challenge. I intend to exercise no less than 3 days a week, for no less than 20 minutes each time.

*Disclaimer: this blog will in NO WAY provide medical advice about managing diabetes. It is simply a diary of my journey in trying to manage this disease to the best of my ability. Please consult your physician before making ANY changes to your medications, diet or physical activity.

Mentally: This plan of action actually began early this year. I have begun to read for pleasure again, as I have to read so much for my private counseling practice, this is a welcomed escape. I have also resumed teaching relaxation and guided imagery to my clients which in turn helps me. Being intentional about the present moment actually is a work I began when my oldest son was born. I wanted to savor every moment and am so glad I have been doing that. Now with three children that intention becomes more difficult to practice, but I am fully committed to continuing life that way and watching how it transforms all of my relationships.

Spiritually: I will commit to a devotional time where I read, meditate or pray each day. Again, it is unrealistic to set a particular time for myself. (The babies aren't on a sleep schedule at night yet!) Also, to take more time to SEE the natural beauty around me and to reserve criticism or complaints about the weather. (We actually need precipitation after all!) A grateful life, a life of praise, that is what I will aspire to!

I will do my best not to embelish any of this to make myself look better, but to be brutally honest with myself and with you. That's the only way to get (and perhaps give) the help needed for change and growth.

In all, I hope to achieve that bloom, that healthful state of beauty and vigor. Not only for myself, but for my husband and my boys, for those I work with in practice and care for in the medical field. In caring for myself this way I may not only reduce the need for diabetes treatment, but I will become a more beautiful and pleasant person to be with. I would love that.