Random Thoughts

Oh, dear blog. How I long to post my thoughts in some sort of eloquent story. Alas, a list is all I offer:

• Being a charter school founder and board president pretty much sucks the life out of you.
• I eat when I am stressed or depressed. A lot.
• I am both happy & sad about school starting. I'm happy to see all that we've put into this school come alive. I'm happy that I'll have lots of one-on-one time with my baby girl. I'm sad that I won't have that time with my boy, who will now be gone every week day for almost 8 hours a day. *sigh* *weep*
• My brother & sister-in-law are having a baby boy this December! I am so ecstatically happy for them! Can't wait to start knitting for Josiah Medders!
• I love having my husband home more. He left Starbucks 6 days ago & it's amazing what difference it made in our home.
• I am seriously tempted to take all of my money out of the banks & sock it away under the mattress.
• I love that my daughter can't go to sleep unless I rock or hold her even if for just for a minute.
• I love that my son wants to completely imitate his father.
• It's very late & I should be sleeping.

The Cold From Hell

We are sick. "We," being Owen, Eden and me. Matt has so far avoided this cold from hell, but from the last call I had with him--I'm not sure that will last.

Despite having this diagnosis of cystic fibrosis, and being told from the time he was 2 months old to prepare for the worst--Owen has rarely struggled with illness.

This time has been different. Incredibly different.

His hacking cough is non-stop. He has been coughing now for 6 days. With tears in his eyes last night, he said to me, "Mom, I don't want to cough anymore." My heart shattered. "I know, baby. I know." I rocked him. "It's okay to cry," I said. He coughs hard. He gags from the mucus and coughs. His neck and throat spasm. Lord, have mercy.

At 1 am on Saturday morning I called Children's hospital. "Trust your instincts," the doc says. "That's why I'm calling you at 1 am," I say.

Midday Sunday I call Children's hospital again. This time he says to try the all-feared cough suppressant. (It is of vital importance that CF kids keep coughing to keep the lungs clear.) If nothing else, it will allow us a night of sleep--something we haven't had in several nights.

Now I sit here, waiting for Matt to come home from a late shift (only to turn around to open tomorrow). Owen took the suppressant, but is still hacking--begging me to let him sleep in my bed. I say, "When daddy gets home, just wait, try to rest, you'll be okay." Lord, have mercy.

From the mouths of babes

I could dedicate an entire blog simply to the hilarious sayings of Ms. Eden.

Me: "Eden, would you like toast for breakfast?"

E: "Sure, why not."

Me: "Eden, do you want to watch a movie?"

E: "Sure, why not."

Me: "Kids, go make your beds."

O: "We need help."

Me: "No, I've seen you do it before, and you can do a great job."

O: "Okay, but I'm going to help Eden first."

E: "Oh, dear."

E: (singing) "I know you, I walked wit you one a pond a dream. I know you, your eyes are souf america."

E: (singing) "Happy berday to you. Happy berday to you. Happy berday to you. Happy berday all da way."

O: "Crud"

O: "Oh, crud."

O: "This is cracking me out!"

Me: "Eden, should we buy some apples?"

E: "Sure, why not."

At breakfast...

E: "Thank you for making eggs for breakfast, mom."

Me: "You're welcome."

a few seconds later...

E: "Thank you for making toast. And juice. And vitamins...."

While driving...

E: "Mom, God made the snow, right?"

Me: "Yes, Eden."

O: "And the rain?"

Me: "Yes."

...the conversation continued as the children named everything they saw outside. E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

E: (Randomly, in the middle of the grocery store, in her sweetest--albeit tough-guy italian voice) "ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?!"

Dear Santa (Why I Need A Digital Camcorder)

This weekend Owen and I started drafting his letter to Santa. This was a first. Up until now Santa was in movies and the scary guy in the picture from Christmas 2005. This year I introduced the concept of Santa only bringing toys to good girls and boys. He wasn't buying it.

While Owen makes his case for needing Star Wars Legos, I thought it prudent to write my own letter to Santa.

Dear Santa Claus,

I have been a good girl this year, and that is why I'm writing. You see, I'm in dire need of a digital camcorder. I work hard every day (sometimes nights too), and my memory isn't doing such a great job these days. I need to capture special moments before my kiddos are grown and gone.

For instance, at Eden's birthday party this year she was the one the kicked off the Happy Birthday song! It was hilarious. Let's not forget to mention her delight with every gift: "OH MY!" "OH MY PEAS!" "OH MY, OH MY!"

Please don't misunderstand. The digital camera you got me last year is awesome! I love the pictures, but it doesn't quite capture certain moments. It can only do so much to capture a little girl twirling in a big, flouncy, petticoat skirt.

Owen has been learning to read. My cell phone does okay to capture the joy in his face, but the recording is pretty bad. Let's not forget that both of them love to sing & perform.

I've already missed so much since our last camera died. I'm writing out memories, but *sigh* I long to re-live all those precious memories of yesterday.

I know you've already gone above and beyond for me. The baby doll in 1985, the denim jacket in '87, the keyboard, the walkman, and the other endless requests that you generously fulfilled were all received with gratitude.

I know I sometimes can be demanding, argumentative, and easily angered. I promise to keep working hard to love more and yell less.

I appreciate all the hard work you do, and thanks for considering my request.

Best Regards,

Tamara

P.S.-A Nikon CoolPixL22 in red, would be fine. :)

The Diagnosis

The test results are all in, and a diagnosis has been made. I’m afraid it’s not good news. Apparently, I have had this for many years and it’s gone unchecked, ignored, and brushed off as other issues. In fact, it appears that many of my health issues—eczema, depression, weight gain, digestive issues—are actually caused by this very same problem. It can lead to other problems too—heart attack, stroke, auto-immune disorders, memory loss, and others.

It is also very difficult to cure. There is no pill to take that will heal it. Treating this disease will take major changes physically, emotionally, and mentally.

I suffer from overwhelming stress. Telling you that is, sadly, very difficult. That’s because I don’t like being a burden to anyone, I don’t want anyone to know I’m not as tough as they think, and I am a perfectionist. I take on too much, I am a workaholic, and I enjoy taking care of other people to the neglect of taking care of myself. It’s not just the amount of stress I take on, I also do not respond well to stress. I withdraw, I obsess, and/or I get angry. Pretty much, if there is a bad way to respond—that’s what I do.

I’ve been told by several people that I am intimidating. Not that I’m threatening or mean, but I do seem strong and confident all the time. A woman spoke to me today, and she is one of the few people in my life who was unabashedly forward with me—not intimidated in the slightest. This was remarkable to me. I want to share with you some of the things she said to me.

If you’re perfect, why are you here?

This is going to stick in my head for a long time. She said, “If you’re perfect, than why are you here? You might as well be in heaven.” Wow. I know perfectionism isn’t right or God’s desire for me. I know in my heart that I was made perfect through Christ’s blood—HECK, I even told a friend that recently! I’ve got the words, read the scripture, and KNOW what’s good and right. Try telling my head to follow along though. (If you can’t tell, or didn’t know—I tend to be a bit stubborn & hard-headed.) Her point was to make me understand that I need to accept my own imperfection.

Leaders need to be real.

This woman also told me that people are more apt to follow when they know their leader is real. Let them see you cry from time to time, she said. It makes them feel they can relate to you, and they are more willing to follow someone that is real. This was a novel concept to me. This has never been the picture of leadership I’ve held in my mind. I don’t have to have it all together all the time, and people appreciate that.

Those are choices YOU made.

I’m such a hypocrite. I say this all the time to women I counsel. I often feel as if I don’t have a choice. My mind easily twists things to make me believe that I must or have to do this or that. I mean, if I don’t, who will? Even my GI doc said, those things will get done. To which I responded, Yes because I will get them all done. Yikes. I struggle with saying no. I am getting better, even my husband told me that today, but I still choose daily to take on as much as possible. I carry the load for all because it’s my nature to take care of everyone. Then when it’s overwhelming, I suffer physical pain.

I also choose to RESPOND the way that I do. This will be the most difficult thing to change. Even though I’m getting better at saying no, I’m horrible at responding well to stress. I typically shove it down or burst out—depending on the situation.

So, here’s where I show vulnerability *gulp* and ask for help. How do you choose to respond to stress? Let’s make a good, long list of ideas for me to try. Do you count to ten when the boss is screaming? Do you have a special prayer? Sip some tea? When the bills need paying, and the kids are fighting—what do you do? (Please, let’s also be realistic. I’m a working mom of two—though I’d love a good soak in the tub, it’s not going to happen on a daily or evenly weekly basis. Especially since our bathroom is still being repaired.) Let’s make it an experiment. I’ll give each idea a try every week, and then report back. While you come up with some ideas, I’m going to go do something that relaxes and stresses me at the same time—knit.

Getting Ready

It's about 5:30 a.m. The colonoscopy is at 7 a.m. I finished drinking the NASTY 4 liters of "rip your insides out" juice a little while ago. It was a bit like giving yourself food poisoning. On a positive note, if there is one, I did lose about 5 pounds. The side effect I hadn't expected was the intense cold. While everyone else last night was enjoying the warm autumn evening, I had on big socks and a sweater. Even with that I was shivering.

I didn't sleep much, but that had little to do with an anxious heart and more to do with a certain toddler. Matt left for work about an hour ago, and we took the time to pray together before he left.

I finished reading my book. I started writing out all the scripture the author mentions in the book. I memorize well by re-writing. It's helping. So have all the encouraging notes, messages, and drop-by friends. Thank you.

I've prepared the kiddos for today. They were very concerned with the amount of time Mommy was spending on the potty last night. I think they'll be a bit anxious, especially Eden, when they see Mommy heavily sedated.

Sedation is probably my last remaining fear. I've always had a fear of sedation--I'm sure because of watching too many medical documentaries. In all fairness though, the last time I was sedated I woke up puking and by being told that I was going in for a 2nd surgery in order to save my life from bleeding out. Good times.

What does one wear to a colonoscopy? I'm thinking comfy pants for sure. (This is about as deep as it gets this early in the morning.)

Anxiety

Worst-case scenario: I might have cancer. (Sorry, Mom, I know you don't like me saying that.)

We'll know soon enough. I've had this pain, amongst other embarrassing symptoms I'd rather not share, for a long time. I deal with it. There's other things that need my attention, and I'm tough. A couple weeks ago the pain came with a warning dream. (We don't mess around with my dreams in this house.) Wednesday I'm having a colonoscopy (and now you can imagine the embarrassing symptoms). What's really sad is that I'm just as anxious for what they don't find. It means still not knowing and more tests.

Here's irony for you: I was so anxious last night I couldn't even read my book. It's title? "Calm My Anxious Heart" It really is a fabulous book. I was able to sleep, but it was fitful. I gave up early this morning, and finally was able to dive into my book. It was exactly what I needed before going to worship. I was able to keep my cool, even with the "how are you doing" questions, up until a group of loving brothers and sisters in Christ laid hands on me to pray.

I am a certified worrier. Ask my brother. I remember him saying to me all the time "You worry too much." He was right. I'm not sure there was anything that I didn't worry about. I've gotten better. Not much, but it's a slow process. I'm quite addicted to it, for sure.

I've been in church long enough to hear all the cliches: "Let go, and Let God," The Serenity Prayer, and others. It's simple to say, "trust God." It's a whole other thing to do it. How do you do it? How do you physically let go of your worries, your burdens, your needs, your desires--and let God take the wheel (another cliche)? How do you NOT try to manipulate circumstances? What does it LOOK like?

Okay, so the simple answer seems to be pray more. When it came to our finances I had to do more. I needed to confess. I needed a community to hold me accountable. (By the way, we have not used our credit cards for anything in almost two weeks. Our needs are met day by day by those the Lord burdens to our door.) Confessing didn't make it easy. I'm a proud woman too, and it's humbling having people bring you groceries or giving you money to pay your bills. I needed to also give an outward sign. Credit cards could no longer be our safety net. God is now our safety net. Either He provides or we do without--THIS IS NOT EASY. Think toilet paper, my friends. Think, laundry detergent. Or even when your child has a simple desire, "Mom, can I have more juice?"

So, here is my confession of anxiety (and out the door goes a little more of my pride).

I am worried that I have colon cancer. I'm worried that they won't find anything, and I'll continue to deal with mystery pain and symptoms.

I'm worried that I will continue to gain weight despite that I workout almost daily and eat a healthy diet.

I'm worried that the stress in my life and worry in my life is the true cause of all my health issues, and I have no idea how to change that without letting down myself, my family and my community.

I worry that we will never be relieved of our financial crisis. I worry my husband will always be working from sun up to sun down just to keep us (barely) afloat.

I worry about the financial burden my health will be on our already over-burdened budget.

I worry about my kids (that's an extensive list alone, you mothers & fathers understand that).

That's about all I can handle confessing right now. How do I make God my safety net on my anxieties? I've physically stopped using credit cards for anything, but how do I STOP worrying? How do you deal with anxiety?