It's Veteran's Day today, but to me, this is a New Year.
Last week, we enrolled our son into an intensive healing program at a ranch out of state. It feels a little weird to say that we sent him to boarding school because that's something for snooty rich people. I'd like to think that aren't snooty, and I know that we aren't rich.
But boarding school isn't cheap, even when it's a Christian ministry aimed at helping children with trauma and attachment issues heal. It's still a pricey endeavor, which means that this lady -- who hasn't worked outside the home much in the last 20 years -- will be returning to the workplace.
I'm starting by reaching out to attorneys I know to see if I can grow my freelance work. But I've also spoken to one of them about more consistent part-time work, which is a relief. Taking on the burden of the monthly tuition was a scary proposition, and I feel better to know that I have been able to secure some income.
But I digress.
This isn't really about work, though that is a part. This is about a fresh start, some resolutions, some goals.
It's hard to know where to start.
There are the easier goals to talk about - the working out, the eating healthy stuff. Ones that are safe.
Then, there are the ones that are harder. The healing that I have to do myself. The wrestling I have with where my disappointments lie and where my faith failed. The regrets, the "wish I had done that differently" aspects. The grief, the concessions, the "it was out of my hands before I even started" aspects.
And so, I enter a new time. My son is a thousand miles away for the foreseeable future. I have my charts -- my cleaning chart, my personal growth chart, my exercise schedule. I'm about as ready as I will be.
So, let's go.
Monday, November 11, 2019
Wednesday, August 21, 2019
Counting Down
I remember a conversation I had with my mom when I was a kid. I'm trying to remember the context. I don't recall being very old, but I really can't place where we were, what we were doing, how it came up. Perhaps we were in a store like Target or K-mart. I have this same conversation sometimes with my own kids in that context, so I'm thinking it must have been there.
My mom made a comment about discontent in the form of always living for the next big thing. In this case, I remember we were talking about holidays. She said something like this...
And I liked it.
It made my life feel so much more bearable. Only 127 days until Christmas. That doesn't seem too terribly much. I'm wondering if it's too soon to make one of these:
When I think about the last year, I get overwhelmed pretty easily to then shift to thinking about the year ahead. I wonder how we'll make it through another year if it is like last year.
I haven't posted a lot about the various trials we faced this last year, but let's just say that I've learned a lot about mental health systems and spent a good amount of effort and time on legal battles advocating for my son. It's not fun. I'm not even sure yet if it's worthwhile.
We haven't reached conclusions on anything yet, so honestly, there are days when I wonder if all the time, effort, energy, and emotion that I've put into this year will pay off at all.
Regardless, I find myself trying to just get through to the next thing, sometimes wishing away the here and now to just fast forward to see what the outcome of all this stress will be.
My mom made a comment about discontent in the form of always living for the next big thing. In this case, I remember we were talking about holidays. She said something like this...
I feel for people who are always living for the next big thing, the next holiday, the next day off work, the next vacation. It's like they don't have anything worthwhile in their lives, so they have to wait for some big event to be excited about.It was a simple comment that hangs there as a memory with really nothing else attached to it. But I thought of it today because I saw this picture posted on a news site.
And I liked it.
It made my life feel so much more bearable. Only 127 days until Christmas. That doesn't seem too terribly much. I'm wondering if it's too soon to make one of these:
When I think about the last year, I get overwhelmed pretty easily to then shift to thinking about the year ahead. I wonder how we'll make it through another year if it is like last year.
I haven't posted a lot about the various trials we faced this last year, but let's just say that I've learned a lot about mental health systems and spent a good amount of effort and time on legal battles advocating for my son. It's not fun. I'm not even sure yet if it's worthwhile.
We haven't reached conclusions on anything yet, so honestly, there are days when I wonder if all the time, effort, energy, and emotion that I've put into this year will pay off at all.
Regardless, I find myself trying to just get through to the next thing, sometimes wishing away the here and now to just fast forward to see what the outcome of all this stress will be.
Monday, August 19, 2019
Peaceful Pleasure
There's a feeling I get sometimes as a mother. I don't know how to describe it except to call it peaceful pleasure. There's this small stillness and joy that comes when I look at pictures of my children. Sometimes, I feel it when I am watching them without them knowing it. I'm not a creeper, I swear. But you know what I mean. It's like if I'm volunteering at their school and I see them line up with their class after recess, but they haven't seen me yet.
There's just this calm content of watching your child, knowing they're yours, feeling the deep love that only parents can understand.
But raising a child with an attachment disorder makes this hard.
My son has this distrust built in him, stemming from early trauma. It's sad. It's understandable. But it's hard to be his mom sometimes.
I want to have these happy feelings when I walk up the stairs and see family pictures, but it's not always how it is.
But rather than focus on that today, I am really happy to report that my son was fairly annoying in the car this morning. That's not the happy part. That's the normal part. He talks incessantly and ignores social cues often. He can tell me the guidelines for car conversation (keep voices down, talk about something that at least 1 other person is also interested in), but he often doesn't follow them. I have to remind him a lot that we're all trapped inside a small box with him and it's not fair to others to be forced to listen to his shenanigans. At home, I try to let him have his silly time and his loud times because others can leave the room if they're not feeling it. But in the car, it's not okay. The car is a place to practice respecting each other's boundaries.
But here's the fun part... the part that made me happy:
Brian was explaining a picture to me and giving me way too much detail, but my response was amusement. I took pleasure, rather than annoyance, in his idiosyncrasies.
We've had a good start to the school year, which has been nice. I was very worried over the two weeks leading up to school. He was being a punk, honestly, for most of those days. I was experiencing elevated heart rates, stomach pains, the works. It was miserable. I wondered how long I will be able to live like this.
So, perhaps we only have a week or so of reprieve until school becomes hard again. But I'll take what I can at this point.
There's just this calm content of watching your child, knowing they're yours, feeling the deep love that only parents can understand.
But raising a child with an attachment disorder makes this hard.
My son has this distrust built in him, stemming from early trauma. It's sad. It's understandable. But it's hard to be his mom sometimes.
I want to have these happy feelings when I walk up the stairs and see family pictures, but it's not always how it is.
But rather than focus on that today, I am really happy to report that my son was fairly annoying in the car this morning. That's not the happy part. That's the normal part. He talks incessantly and ignores social cues often. He can tell me the guidelines for car conversation (keep voices down, talk about something that at least 1 other person is also interested in), but he often doesn't follow them. I have to remind him a lot that we're all trapped inside a small box with him and it's not fair to others to be forced to listen to his shenanigans. At home, I try to let him have his silly time and his loud times because others can leave the room if they're not feeling it. But in the car, it's not okay. The car is a place to practice respecting each other's boundaries.
But here's the fun part... the part that made me happy:
Brian was explaining a picture to me and giving me way too much detail, but my response was amusement. I took pleasure, rather than annoyance, in his idiosyncrasies.
We've had a good start to the school year, which has been nice. I was very worried over the two weeks leading up to school. He was being a punk, honestly, for most of those days. I was experiencing elevated heart rates, stomach pains, the works. It was miserable. I wondered how long I will be able to live like this.
So, perhaps we only have a week or so of reprieve until school becomes hard again. But I'll take what I can at this point.
Friday, August 2, 2019
Hard Questions
I came across this article today about an inmate who drowned his cellmate in their toilet. The murderer was obviously re-arrested and will be charged again. He is already in prison for quite a long sentence for a murder that he committed when he was 17.
This is where someone like me - someone who generally abides by the Consistent Life Ethic - runs into the difficult questions. Every philosophical stance has these kind of questions. There are times when a viewpoint or belief system is very clear. It's easily applicable and there's little disagreement among adherents and the general public alike.
Child molestation, for example.
Oh, yes... I forgot to mention that the cellmate that was killed was an egregious child molester, convicted of lewd and lascivious molestation of a child under 12.
I made the mistake of reading the comments on the Kron 4 facebook page. Some highlights:
But I'm also conflicted, although not with regard to the situation in the cell. The death penalty is a hard topic and child molestation is a sick crime. But here's the thing. The child molester was given a life sentence. Theoretically (yes, I know) he cannot commit his same crime again. He could perform other sex-related crimes, but it's probably unlikely since pedophiles target vulnerable children. The fact that the others in the prison are his peers, rather than young people unable to defend themselves, lowers the risk of this. In my view, with my grasp of the consistent life ethic, this child molester deserves to live.
In the least, he does not deserve to be killed by an individual. The death penalty is something that is governed because that is supposed to make it something that has accountability. Of course, I understand that this isn't what actually happens, and this is a huge part of why I'm opposed to it. I'm also opposed because I think that everyone should be given an opportunity for redemption. I won't go into here how flawed our prison system is to actually deliver that opportunity, but for the sake of time, I'll assume that being alive in itself gives you more opportunity toward redemption than being dead.
So, I believe that both the 17-year-old murderer and the child molester deserve to have their chance. They deserve to be in a place that will protect society from their evils, while simultaneously protecting their right to life. This is the ideal that jail is built on, however messed up our implementation actually is.
But now that the murderer has killed again, I start to see the hard question.
When we've put a person in a place that protects others from their dangerous crimes and that person commits the same dangerous crime again, what is left for this situation? Solitary confinement, perhaps. Some would say that this is a form of torture.
So, is it better to die than to be alive and face a slow, permanent torture? Is it right to allow this man to live until he kills a jail guard? Then what?
Hard questions.
This is where someone like me - someone who generally abides by the Consistent Life Ethic - runs into the difficult questions. Every philosophical stance has these kind of questions. There are times when a viewpoint or belief system is very clear. It's easily applicable and there's little disagreement among adherents and the general public alike.
Child molestation, for example.
Oh, yes... I forgot to mention that the cellmate that was killed was an egregious child molester, convicted of lewd and lascivious molestation of a child under 12.
I made the mistake of reading the comments on the Kron 4 facebook page. Some highlights:
- They should make public his number so people can put money in his books
- Should give this man time off of his sentence not rearrest him on new charges.
- RESPECT to a real man. My thoughts are with his family while they must see and hear of their loved one being slandered for making the world a better place.I'm frankly appalled.
But I'm also conflicted, although not with regard to the situation in the cell. The death penalty is a hard topic and child molestation is a sick crime. But here's the thing. The child molester was given a life sentence. Theoretically (yes, I know) he cannot commit his same crime again. He could perform other sex-related crimes, but it's probably unlikely since pedophiles target vulnerable children. The fact that the others in the prison are his peers, rather than young people unable to defend themselves, lowers the risk of this. In my view, with my grasp of the consistent life ethic, this child molester deserves to live.
In the least, he does not deserve to be killed by an individual. The death penalty is something that is governed because that is supposed to make it something that has accountability. Of course, I understand that this isn't what actually happens, and this is a huge part of why I'm opposed to it. I'm also opposed because I think that everyone should be given an opportunity for redemption. I won't go into here how flawed our prison system is to actually deliver that opportunity, but for the sake of time, I'll assume that being alive in itself gives you more opportunity toward redemption than being dead.
So, I believe that both the 17-year-old murderer and the child molester deserve to have their chance. They deserve to be in a place that will protect society from their evils, while simultaneously protecting their right to life. This is the ideal that jail is built on, however messed up our implementation actually is.
But now that the murderer has killed again, I start to see the hard question.
When we've put a person in a place that protects others from their dangerous crimes and that person commits the same dangerous crime again, what is left for this situation? Solitary confinement, perhaps. Some would say that this is a form of torture.
So, is it better to die than to be alive and face a slow, permanent torture? Is it right to allow this man to live until he kills a jail guard? Then what?
Hard questions.
Thursday, August 1, 2019
Changing Seasons
School starts in 2 weeks. Neither of the kids are particularly excited about that, but they are both eager for the annual school shopping. The backpack we ordered for Ashlyn arrived today. It's not a great one. You know how you can tell kind of just by feeling how papery the material seems?
The other day, Eve and I were at Kohl's and we saw some JanSport bags, and I thought how much I always love JanSport backpacks. I had one that made it all the way through high school and well out of college. The only issue was that the front pocket zipper broke - twice. JanSport has - or at least had - free repair for life when you buy a back, but I learned the hard way that it can take 6 weeks to get a broken zipper replaced. Then said zipper can break again within a few month, so probably not worth the hassle. Regardless, I definitely got my money's worth on that bag. But it was actually pretty ugly.
Anyway. I'm not here to talk about back packs. I'm here to talk about life change because who isn't down for that kind of conversation at 8:40pm, after the sleeping meds have been ingested and before Jane the Virgin finale has been watched.
I was thinking today how different things are now than I thought they might be 5 years ago. 5 years was still when we were in Huntsville. It's funny how there are things that I complained about when we lived there that I would kill for now. (Not literally. I'm pro-life.) There were relationships I had that had more strain in them than I wanted. What I wouldn't give to have some of those people a short drive away.
I'm very different, too, though. Five years ago, I was signing my kids up for school for the first time. Eve was entering 8th grade; Ashlyn - 2nd. Brian was starting his full-day schooling adventure (ha!) in kindergarten. The year was about the best I could have possibly anticipated... well, for the girls. Brian's education experience has been rough, to say the least.
5 years ago, I was a college-educated SAHM who hadn't earned in income for years.
5 years ago, I was someone who had the energy to not only think about volunteering, but I actually did it quite a lot.
5 years ago, I was someone on a spiritual path with people who were important to me and vital to my faith experience.
5 years ago, I was someone who could sit and write a blog post without stopping ten times to see if I'd met my goal of 15 minutes of journaling.
I was also someone who wanted to be accepted by the "cool kids" in various places I went. This is a weird one, I think. I was 35 years old then, and it honestly caught me off guard that there even still were "cool kids." Either way, I'm glad that I don't care so much about that. I realize more and more that my mom was right all along that the cool kids are often then ones that feel insecure themselves. It's weird how that works.
I still have 3 minutes to write until I reach my goal.
I wish I had something better to say here. I wish I had some profound thing to say about growth and change and what that means. To say something about the good that has come though hardship. But really I just see it for something that is. Not for something that is good or bad, but just is. I'm different than I was five years ago. And I suspect I could write this same thing again in 5 more years.
2 minutes to go.
Well, here's one thing that hasn't changed. I have such little internal motivation to keep going. I'm highly tempted to say, "eh. close enough." But today, I'm much more able to do that without feeling like a failure.
Wednesday, July 31, 2019
In the Quiet
I woke up at 4:30ish today.
At some point during the day, I realize I'll be dragging, but right now, I'm enjoying the silence. Morning is the only time I really have that I can sit and take my time -- think, read, plan, drink coffee.
The other time that I have is the night, but there's always a little bit of weight hanging over it because I get stuck in that middle ground of not feeling quite tired enough to sleep, but knowing that I'll be sorry in the morning if I don't try. I usually watch some TV at night, so I have that same "stuck between" issue with that. The TV show helps me unwind, distracts me from the worries of the day. But also pours flickering light into my eyes, which sleep websites say keep me from sleeping deeply.
I used to not watch TV.
When Billy and I met, got married, and lived the next 9 years of our life together, we didn't have a TV with any shows on it. We didn't have cable, and not even an antenna for the local channels. We had a small TV and a VCR/DVD combo player. A few years down the road, we got a bigger TV. Then we got Amazon prime, but I rarely used it because it's not really user friendly. I still don't use it very much.
Regardless, when we moved to California, a friend started to let us use her Netflix account, and that was it. I was done. Over. Completely regressed into my childhood of sitting in front of the TV for hours.
Binging on shows was (still can be) a huge time zap for me. I know I'm not the only one, but I still don't like it. I've been trying over the couple of months to be more intentional about how I use my time... and my brain.
I've been reading at least 15 minutes a day, along with working 2 hours and doing household tasks for 2 hours. More recently, I cracked open the old Spanish learning tools (which are actually pretty heavy on TV shows, crazy enough). My biggest obstacle in Spanish is listening comprehension. I read well and can speak and write in simple, but effective Spanish. But listening is rough, and it's very hard for native speakers to be able to slow down enough to accommodate me. So, 15 minutes a day of Spanish listening. I work out daily, go on daily walks with Billy, and try to spend time each day in Bible reading and meditation/prayer.
This doesn't leave a lot of time for TV, honestly. But that hasn't stopped me from watching almost an entire season of Orange is the New Black in a weekend.
At some point during the day, I realize I'll be dragging, but right now, I'm enjoying the silence. Morning is the only time I really have that I can sit and take my time -- think, read, plan, drink coffee.
The other time that I have is the night, but there's always a little bit of weight hanging over it because I get stuck in that middle ground of not feeling quite tired enough to sleep, but knowing that I'll be sorry in the morning if I don't try. I usually watch some TV at night, so I have that same "stuck between" issue with that. The TV show helps me unwind, distracts me from the worries of the day. But also pours flickering light into my eyes, which sleep websites say keep me from sleeping deeply.
I used to not watch TV.
When Billy and I met, got married, and lived the next 9 years of our life together, we didn't have a TV with any shows on it. We didn't have cable, and not even an antenna for the local channels. We had a small TV and a VCR/DVD combo player. A few years down the road, we got a bigger TV. Then we got Amazon prime, but I rarely used it because it's not really user friendly. I still don't use it very much.
Regardless, when we moved to California, a friend started to let us use her Netflix account, and that was it. I was done. Over. Completely regressed into my childhood of sitting in front of the TV for hours.
Binging on shows was (still can be) a huge time zap for me. I know I'm not the only one, but I still don't like it. I've been trying over the couple of months to be more intentional about how I use my time... and my brain.
I've been reading at least 15 minutes a day, along with working 2 hours and doing household tasks for 2 hours. More recently, I cracked open the old Spanish learning tools (which are actually pretty heavy on TV shows, crazy enough). My biggest obstacle in Spanish is listening comprehension. I read well and can speak and write in simple, but effective Spanish. But listening is rough, and it's very hard for native speakers to be able to slow down enough to accommodate me. So, 15 minutes a day of Spanish listening. I work out daily, go on daily walks with Billy, and try to spend time each day in Bible reading and meditation/prayer.
This doesn't leave a lot of time for TV, honestly. But that hasn't stopped me from watching almost an entire season of Orange is the New Black in a weekend.
Tuesday, July 30, 2019
Borrow Mine
I've been pretty down here for the last couple of weeks. I've gone through some of the usual suspects only to find that there's no clear explanation in those. Which is a hard reality to face. When you're eating a bunch of junk, and you're feeling lethargic, it's simple. Not always easy to change, but simple to understand that you are what you eat, and junk food will give you junk feelings.
But when you have those junk feelings even though you're trying to get good sleep and exercising daily, going out in the sun, drinking lots of water, eating your fruits and veggies. That's when it's hard.
It's even harder when your partner is feeling the same way.
There's a song that I have a love-hate relationship with. I love it because it's hopeful, but I hate it because it's idealist. I love it for the priority it puts on supporting one another, but I hate it because it's never quite that simple.
I agree that there is strength in numbers and that we need to walk beside each other when one of us can't get through on our own. In theory, it's true. In practice, it sometimes is, I suppose. I can definitely think of times in my faith life, in particular, that I've needed to rely on others for encouragement because I wasn't able to pull myself out of a slump. I think this is part of the value of a faith community.
And maybe that's my problem. Not so much that I don't have anyone, but more that I don't have enough someones.
Billy has been going through some similar things with feeling down. And for all the progress that I said we've made in our disagreements, we've both had a hard time stopping mid-fight to take the others perspective here more recently. It's hard when both people in a relationship need the other person to be the bigger person.
So, here I am in California with a total of ... few friends. The ones that I have live in our last town, so seeing them has become a hit or miss of "hey I'll be down there for a doctor appointment; wanna grab lunch" kind of thing. It's been more miss, honestly.
We haven't found a church home since we moved here. There are several reasons for that, the biggest one being that it's just a lot of work. I put the work in at the first church we landed at, but it wasn't really reciprocated. Again, just a couple of relationships there. The next church I went to was a Sunday morning thing. When I tried the small group scene they had, I got the lovely insistence that there was nothing wrong with my child with special needs.
(Life pro-tip: when a child is in 15 hours of behavior therapy a week, 1 hour of emotional counseling, a special ed classroom because he is 3 grades behind in school, on medication for ADHD and self-harming behaviors, and he's still engaging in anti-social conduct, the last thing his parent needs to hear is that he's completely fine. There aren't a lot of things I would say I get offended at, but that is one of them. Please don't pretend you know anything at all about my child from a 2-hour small group every other week.)
We've been going off and on to a Sunday morning church near our new (almost year old) home. We haven't gotten past Sunday morning, though. There are times when I think it would feel really nice to fall into a place where I could borrow someone else's strength for a while. But when you're in the middle of the train wreck, people aren't lining up to start a new relationship.
Somehow, I need to find the strength to get myself together long enough to make a friend.
But when you have those junk feelings even though you're trying to get good sleep and exercising daily, going out in the sun, drinking lots of water, eating your fruits and veggies. That's when it's hard.
It's even harder when your partner is feeling the same way.
There's a song that I have a love-hate relationship with. I love it because it's hopeful, but I hate it because it's idealist. I love it for the priority it puts on supporting one another, but I hate it because it's never quite that simple.
I agree that there is strength in numbers and that we need to walk beside each other when one of us can't get through on our own. In theory, it's true. In practice, it sometimes is, I suppose. I can definitely think of times in my faith life, in particular, that I've needed to rely on others for encouragement because I wasn't able to pull myself out of a slump. I think this is part of the value of a faith community.
And maybe that's my problem. Not so much that I don't have anyone, but more that I don't have enough someones.
Billy has been going through some similar things with feeling down. And for all the progress that I said we've made in our disagreements, we've both had a hard time stopping mid-fight to take the others perspective here more recently. It's hard when both people in a relationship need the other person to be the bigger person.
So, here I am in California with a total of ... few friends. The ones that I have live in our last town, so seeing them has become a hit or miss of "hey I'll be down there for a doctor appointment; wanna grab lunch" kind of thing. It's been more miss, honestly.
We haven't found a church home since we moved here. There are several reasons for that, the biggest one being that it's just a lot of work. I put the work in at the first church we landed at, but it wasn't really reciprocated. Again, just a couple of relationships there. The next church I went to was a Sunday morning thing. When I tried the small group scene they had, I got the lovely insistence that there was nothing wrong with my child with special needs.
(Life pro-tip: when a child is in 15 hours of behavior therapy a week, 1 hour of emotional counseling, a special ed classroom because he is 3 grades behind in school, on medication for ADHD and self-harming behaviors, and he's still engaging in anti-social conduct, the last thing his parent needs to hear is that he's completely fine. There aren't a lot of things I would say I get offended at, but that is one of them. Please don't pretend you know anything at all about my child from a 2-hour small group every other week.)
We've been going off and on to a Sunday morning church near our new (almost year old) home. We haven't gotten past Sunday morning, though. There are times when I think it would feel really nice to fall into a place where I could borrow someone else's strength for a while. But when you're in the middle of the train wreck, people aren't lining up to start a new relationship.
Somehow, I need to find the strength to get myself together long enough to make a friend.
Thursday, July 18, 2019
What is Morality, Anyway?
I started dissecting Andrew Yang's statement about the ridiculousness of people's beliefs about atheists and morality a couple of days ago. I'll admit, I'm already losing a bit of interest in it... mainly because there's so freaking much to critique and that seems pretty tedious. And we all know how I feel about tedious projects. (Okay, I see this self-referential tendency of blogging has come back pretty quickly to me.)
Anyway, I will go slightly into the next phrase of his statement, but allow me to make this disclaimer: there's a lot to unpack about the topic, and I'm not pretending or interested in exhausting the topic. I'm going to do a pretty cursory analysis on the topic of morality. It will leave a ton to be desired. You may walk away from this thinking it was the stupidest post you've read in quite a while, but this is what I'm willing to give, so you can take it or leave, as they say. (Who says that? No one really. But I am right now.)
Okay.
"people would think you are somehow less moral...because of your religious beliefs"
This is the next phrase. Remember, he thinks it's ridiculous that people would think this. I already discussed that I think the fact that he thinks it is ridiculous means that he probably hasn't investigated it very much. Or at least hasn't talked to people with the strongest arguments for this viewpoint.
This next phrase really solidifies that belief for me. Here's why:
While some religions might teach morals as an outward act, many view it as a combo double-punch package of outward action plus inward motivation. Some also add the impact created as a factor in how moral something is. That is, if the action is good or neutral and the intention is good, but the outcome is negative, this might rank lower on the morality scale.
But since we are talking about an American running for the highest office in the land, I'd like to put the context a little bit more specifically on the Judeo-Christian... er, actually just Christian... perspective of how a person comes to be moral.
It's kind of simple, honestly. This is a quality of Christian that we take pride in, so to speak. Except that pride is a sin, so ... we take whatever satisfaction or fulfillment in it that wouldn't be a sin. We like that our faith is simple. This is seen as a positive from the Christian point of view.
Romans 14:23 says, "Whatever does not proceed from faith is sin."
The immediate context of this statement is discussing whether Christians need to maintain a kosher diet, but the principle is relevant in anything we do.
So, from a biblical, Christian standpoint, a person that is not acting from faith in Christ is always acting in sin. Therefore, they are always immoral, even when doing nice things that have positive earthly benefits.
Anyway, I will go slightly into the next phrase of his statement, but allow me to make this disclaimer: there's a lot to unpack about the topic, and I'm not pretending or interested in exhausting the topic. I'm going to do a pretty cursory analysis on the topic of morality. It will leave a ton to be desired. You may walk away from this thinking it was the stupidest post you've read in quite a while, but this is what I'm willing to give, so you can take it or leave, as they say. (Who says that? No one really. But I am right now.)
Okay.
"people would think you are somehow less moral...because of your religious beliefs"
This is the next phrase. Remember, he thinks it's ridiculous that people would think this. I already discussed that I think the fact that he thinks it is ridiculous means that he probably hasn't investigated it very much. Or at least hasn't talked to people with the strongest arguments for this viewpoint.
This next phrase really solidifies that belief for me. Here's why:
While some religions might teach morals as an outward act, many view it as a combo double-punch package of outward action plus inward motivation. Some also add the impact created as a factor in how moral something is. That is, if the action is good or neutral and the intention is good, but the outcome is negative, this might rank lower on the morality scale.
But since we are talking about an American running for the highest office in the land, I'd like to put the context a little bit more specifically on the Judeo-Christian... er, actually just Christian... perspective of how a person comes to be moral.
It's kind of simple, honestly. This is a quality of Christian that we take pride in, so to speak. Except that pride is a sin, so ... we take whatever satisfaction or fulfillment in it that wouldn't be a sin. We like that our faith is simple. This is seen as a positive from the Christian point of view.
Romans 14:23 says, "Whatever does not proceed from faith is sin."
The immediate context of this statement is discussing whether Christians need to maintain a kosher diet, but the principle is relevant in anything we do.
So, from a biblical, Christian standpoint, a person that is not acting from faith in Christ is always acting in sin. Therefore, they are always immoral, even when doing nice things that have positive earthly benefits.
Tuesday, July 16, 2019
Ridiculous Opinions
A couple of weeks ago, I was thinking about how impactful it can be to steel man someone else's position for them. Funny enough, my husband and I have had more ... ahem... passionate misunderstandings in the last couple of weeks than we had been having in the recent past, so it's been sticking in my mind more. Unsurprising, then, that when I saw a short write up about a statement made by Andrew Yang about people's views on atheists, my interest was piqued.
(Side note: am I the only one that thought for years that the phrase was "my interest was peaked"? I still think it makes sense. Just like "deep-seeded" seems better than "deep-seated." Oh, well. No one ever asks me.)
Now, from this original post that I saw on Patheos, there were several links to more information, including a video of the original statement.
There are a ton of problems with this statement, and this has nothing to do with my politics*. Or my religious beliefs, really. I realize it seems like I am pointing this out because I am not an atheist, and I'll admit that this is probably part of the reason that the statement stood out to me. But I think my critique holds up regardless.
The main problems, I believe, can be summarized in that Yang doesn't seem to truly understand the belief system of the people he is criticizing.
I'm going to take this one statement at a time because otherwise I would be here all night. I only need 15 minutes of journaling to get my points, so I definitely don't want to take all night. Plus, if I decide to come back to it later, I can squeeze a few points out of this one video and have my journaling points for at least a week.
The first phrase of interest that Yang says is this:
"I think it's ridiculous"
Let's stop there because I can tell you right now that when someone says that someone else's viewpoint is ridiculous, it's a pretty solid indication that they have spent very little time thinking about the viewpoint or have very little curiosity about what drives a viewpoint or have approached their consideration of the viewpoint with a biased assumption that the people holding it are somehow "less than." (Less intelligent, less thoughtful, less consistent, less caring, less accepting.)
I can't think of a time when I heard someone with an open mind and a goal for understanding explained an opposing viewpoint by calling it ridiculous.
So, lesson one:
- When we encounter a viewpoint that is different than ours or challenges ours, we should attempt to understand the reasons behind it assuming that the adherents to this belief have reasons for adhering to it, even if our first impression is that the idea is ridiculous.
*I actually like Yang more than most of the Democratic candidates.
(Side note: am I the only one that thought for years that the phrase was "my interest was peaked"? I still think it makes sense. Just like "deep-seeded" seems better than "deep-seated." Oh, well. No one ever asks me.)
Now, from this original post that I saw on Patheos, there were several links to more information, including a video of the original statement.
There are a ton of problems with this statement, and this has nothing to do with my politics*. Or my religious beliefs, really. I realize it seems like I am pointing this out because I am not an atheist, and I'll admit that this is probably part of the reason that the statement stood out to me. But I think my critique holds up regardless.
The main problems, I believe, can be summarized in that Yang doesn't seem to truly understand the belief system of the people he is criticizing.
I'm going to take this one statement at a time because otherwise I would be here all night. I only need 15 minutes of journaling to get my points, so I definitely don't want to take all night. Plus, if I decide to come back to it later, I can squeeze a few points out of this one video and have my journaling points for at least a week.
The first phrase of interest that Yang says is this:
"I think it's ridiculous"
Let's stop there because I can tell you right now that when someone says that someone else's viewpoint is ridiculous, it's a pretty solid indication that they have spent very little time thinking about the viewpoint or have very little curiosity about what drives a viewpoint or have approached their consideration of the viewpoint with a biased assumption that the people holding it are somehow "less than." (Less intelligent, less thoughtful, less consistent, less caring, less accepting.)
I can't think of a time when I heard someone with an open mind and a goal for understanding explained an opposing viewpoint by calling it ridiculous.
So, lesson one:
- When we encounter a viewpoint that is different than ours or challenges ours, we should attempt to understand the reasons behind it assuming that the adherents to this belief have reasons for adhering to it, even if our first impression is that the idea is ridiculous.
*I actually like Yang more than most of the Democratic candidates.
Monday, July 15, 2019
Task-oriented
Sometimes I feel completely frustrated by my own lack of drive, but then I look at my to-do list and I see a lot crossed out. But there's always more that's uncrossed. Always.
Through my adult life, I've struggled with the idea of being a task-oriented person. There's a deep understanding I have that relationships - not tasks - are what make life fulfilling. But try as I may, I hold a tension between what I'm naturally wired for and what I more deeply desire.
What's strange is that until recently, I've always had to remind myself to invest in relationships. It's a fact that homes need to have a level of cleanliness in order to be sanitary for living. My home is nowhere near the line of becoming unsanitary. I could never let it get there because it would just drive me crazy. So, in the past, I have needed to remind myself that while I'm getting after kids to do their chores, there was still opportunity to have shared experience and create positive relationship memories.
More recently, I feel like I've been more naturally drawn to relationships and have had to really motivate myself to get anything checked off my lists. Part of this is because I have some large projects with no real end in sight. Part of me understands that the more diligently I work on these things, the closer I will get to wrapping them up. But another part of me is so frustrated with the time and energy I've already invested with little result that I just want to abandon ship on some of it.
And that brings up more contemplating. What's the benefit of continuing a project that is getting me nowhere? It's hard to see it when I'm in the middle of treading water. With hindsight, I know that I usually regret dropping a project that has gotten frustrating. Most of the things that I work on are necessary. I mean, I don't just go around finding for non-essential ways to spend my limited time. So, when I drop a project that seems futile, I end up just being further behind on a project that still needs to happen.
This week, I've finally finished collecting medical records and therapy notes for a large project that I've been working on since last November. It's a little embarrassing, honestly. I think the old me would have had this done about 6 months ago. But in the last 8 months, it's just been so hard to peel myself away from time with friends, family, and so forth because the task seems so futile. The amount of time I've put in has been immense, and the outcome is a crap shoot. This will either result in an extra $6000 a year for the next 8 years or a big, fat nothing. And I have no way to really know until I give it a try.
All I know is that it won't go away. The need that we have is here to stay, and until I get this project completed, I just can't know whether it was worth it, but ultimately, getting it done (and done well) is the only option I have because it will continue to be something in my past that I should have done. When medical bills add up and I'm unable to work as much as I want because of appointments and school meetings, it will be nice to have a $6k cushion every year. And if I don't complete it, I will always think about how much therapy that would have paid for. Once I complete it, if we are denied the funding, at least I will have tried.
But man... these tasks are just really killing me right now.
Through my adult life, I've struggled with the idea of being a task-oriented person. There's a deep understanding I have that relationships - not tasks - are what make life fulfilling. But try as I may, I hold a tension between what I'm naturally wired for and what I more deeply desire.
What's strange is that until recently, I've always had to remind myself to invest in relationships. It's a fact that homes need to have a level of cleanliness in order to be sanitary for living. My home is nowhere near the line of becoming unsanitary. I could never let it get there because it would just drive me crazy. So, in the past, I have needed to remind myself that while I'm getting after kids to do their chores, there was still opportunity to have shared experience and create positive relationship memories.
More recently, I feel like I've been more naturally drawn to relationships and have had to really motivate myself to get anything checked off my lists. Part of this is because I have some large projects with no real end in sight. Part of me understands that the more diligently I work on these things, the closer I will get to wrapping them up. But another part of me is so frustrated with the time and energy I've already invested with little result that I just want to abandon ship on some of it.
And that brings up more contemplating. What's the benefit of continuing a project that is getting me nowhere? It's hard to see it when I'm in the middle of treading water. With hindsight, I know that I usually regret dropping a project that has gotten frustrating. Most of the things that I work on are necessary. I mean, I don't just go around finding for non-essential ways to spend my limited time. So, when I drop a project that seems futile, I end up just being further behind on a project that still needs to happen.
This week, I've finally finished collecting medical records and therapy notes for a large project that I've been working on since last November. It's a little embarrassing, honestly. I think the old me would have had this done about 6 months ago. But in the last 8 months, it's just been so hard to peel myself away from time with friends, family, and so forth because the task seems so futile. The amount of time I've put in has been immense, and the outcome is a crap shoot. This will either result in an extra $6000 a year for the next 8 years or a big, fat nothing. And I have no way to really know until I give it a try.
All I know is that it won't go away. The need that we have is here to stay, and until I get this project completed, I just can't know whether it was worth it, but ultimately, getting it done (and done well) is the only option I have because it will continue to be something in my past that I should have done. When medical bills add up and I'm unable to work as much as I want because of appointments and school meetings, it will be nice to have a $6k cushion every year. And if I don't complete it, I will always think about how much therapy that would have paid for. Once I complete it, if we are denied the funding, at least I will have tried.
But man... these tasks are just really killing me right now.
Wednesday, July 3, 2019
The Man of Steel in Passionate Conversations
There's a debate concept called "steel-manning" that is an interesting idea. The opposite of the straw man fallacy, the steel man argument attempts to bolster the argument on the other side and then address that argument. I first noticed this concept in Tim Keller's book The Reason for God. I wouldn't doubt that I heard of it prior to that, but I don't recall anywhere else. It's been brought to the forefront of my thought more recently through an organization called Equal Rights Institute.
The reason for this concept is multi-facted, but a couple of the things that stand out to me are these:
1. It respects the dignity of your conversation partner.
I hesitate to use the phrase "debate opponent" because I think debate is an intellectual exercise to be saved for certain contexts, and in reality, few of us are ever in those contexts. Plus if we are to move forward (i.e. be progressive), we really need to be partnering and having conversations to understand rather than debates to argue and win. The steel man argument acknowledges that your partner has legitimate ideas that are worth understanding and addressing. When we straw man (or even when we answer an ill-articulated view without helping bolster it first), we fail to acknowledge that there are views contrary to ours that deserve consideration. By extension, we fail to acknowledge that the person we are talking to deserves consideration of their ideas and perspective.
2. It builds up a relationship.
I'm not sure if you've left a discussion feeling completely misunderstood, but I can tell you that I have. So has my husband. We have a long history of failing to hear each other, which we have both worked on intentionally, and I'm happy to report that we've had better disagreements in the last 6 months than we ever have in our 14-year relationship. Listening to someone and being willing to help them make their arguments stronger, even when you disagree moves from just respect for their human dignity to growing affection for one another. There's a good feeling in knowing you're heard. And there's an amazing feeling in knowing your partner feels heard. Even when it's not your spouse.
3. It sets up a more compelling "win."
In this sense, I mean "win" not so much as winning an argument or a debate because you scored the right kind of rebuttal points. I mean that part of being heard and part of hearing allows for everyone to walk away with a more robust understanding of an issue. This is already a win, imho. But even beyond this, if there's are topics that we are truly passionate about (for me it's pro-life, financial education, and constitutional law), then we want our conversation partner to have these positive experiences of feeling heard and appreciated because it will take away the hard work of plowing through the defensiveness that so easily creeps into discussions on sensitive and passionate topics. When those blockades are removed, people are more willing to acknowledge where they are wrong or at least where they haven't quite thought through their belief system.
The reason for this concept is multi-facted, but a couple of the things that stand out to me are these:
1. It respects the dignity of your conversation partner.
I hesitate to use the phrase "debate opponent" because I think debate is an intellectual exercise to be saved for certain contexts, and in reality, few of us are ever in those contexts. Plus if we are to move forward (i.e. be progressive), we really need to be partnering and having conversations to understand rather than debates to argue and win. The steel man argument acknowledges that your partner has legitimate ideas that are worth understanding and addressing. When we straw man (or even when we answer an ill-articulated view without helping bolster it first), we fail to acknowledge that there are views contrary to ours that deserve consideration. By extension, we fail to acknowledge that the person we are talking to deserves consideration of their ideas and perspective.
2. It builds up a relationship.
I'm not sure if you've left a discussion feeling completely misunderstood, but I can tell you that I have. So has my husband. We have a long history of failing to hear each other, which we have both worked on intentionally, and I'm happy to report that we've had better disagreements in the last 6 months than we ever have in our 14-year relationship. Listening to someone and being willing to help them make their arguments stronger, even when you disagree moves from just respect for their human dignity to growing affection for one another. There's a good feeling in knowing you're heard. And there's an amazing feeling in knowing your partner feels heard. Even when it's not your spouse.
3. It sets up a more compelling "win."
In this sense, I mean "win" not so much as winning an argument or a debate because you scored the right kind of rebuttal points. I mean that part of being heard and part of hearing allows for everyone to walk away with a more robust understanding of an issue. This is already a win, imho. But even beyond this, if there's are topics that we are truly passionate about (for me it's pro-life, financial education, and constitutional law), then we want our conversation partner to have these positive experiences of feeling heard and appreciated because it will take away the hard work of plowing through the defensiveness that so easily creeps into discussions on sensitive and passionate topics. When those blockades are removed, people are more willing to acknowledge where they are wrong or at least where they haven't quite thought through their belief system.
Monday, July 1, 2019
A Forced Contemplation on a (More) Preferred Topic
I didn't journal much last week for a couple of reasons. First off, it was a brutal week. It was the 3rd week of summer, and my kids were sick with colds. They were tired of being cooped up inside and presumably feeling irritable from too much TV. I say presumably because how am I supposed to know, but that's the correlation I saw. The longer the TV watching went on, the grumpier they became especially when asked to move on to something else. It's the electronic drug, as my mom used to say.
The other main reason I didn't journal, blog, or even really think about much of any substance last week was because all my thoughts were consumed by special needs issues. I had a couple of waste-of-time projects that I needed to complete, only to find out that they were indeed a waste of time and I received absolutely no benefit from the time invested - perhaps with the exception of now knowing that those roads led to brick walls. The point is that I didn't have much to write about or think about except things that I just wanted to stop thinking about the moment I was done with my tasks associated with said thoughts. The last thing I wanted to do was actually journal and spend even more time in the misery of bureaucracy.
It seemed counter-productive to spend my time on those things when the goal of this time is to release some of the stress out of my mind through my fingers and into the ether. It wasn't going to happen, so regardless of the negative impact TV made on my kids last week, I found myself only wanting to crawl into bed and cuddle with Netflix in order to de-stress, so I did.
But today, I thought that I would try to make myself write about something that I care about, even if it's not a great amount of content. Because I'm so much more than a parent and a parent of a child with special needs to be specific. Though it takes a lot of me time, emotional energy, and general effort, it's not all-consuming. Or it shouldn't be.
So, here I am... I'm going to write about something else about me.
As soon as I can remember anything about myself that isn't focused around my children.
Books.
Okay. Here we go.
I've been trying to read for 15 minutes a day. I used to read voraciously and really enjoyed it, but recently I've found it hard to concentrate on much. So, I thought that 15 minutes a day would be a good start. I started my quest with Michelle Obama's autobiography.
The autobiography is one of my favorite genres. I think biographies are interesting, but autobiographies, when well written and honest, are compelling, for whatever that word is worth. I tend to find the word compelling to be overused and thus has lost a part of its power. Which is a bit ironic if you think about it.
Anyway, among my favorite autobiographies was The Private Life of Chairman Mao. It was an incredibly long, but interesting and heart breaking book. It was the story of intense fear and survival. It was set in a time when everyone was scared of being back-stabbed and standing up for oneself was a privilege that no one owned, not even Mao's closest advisors.
Obama's autobiography, so far, is very different. It is much more a story of supportive success. It is a story of opportunity and open doors. I find, so far, that I'm not enjoying it quite as much as Barack Obama's book, but I am enjoying it in a different way. I'm just not sure how to talk about that way yet.
And my 15 minutes of journaling is over, so I don't have to figure it out!
The other main reason I didn't journal, blog, or even really think about much of any substance last week was because all my thoughts were consumed by special needs issues. I had a couple of waste-of-time projects that I needed to complete, only to find out that they were indeed a waste of time and I received absolutely no benefit from the time invested - perhaps with the exception of now knowing that those roads led to brick walls. The point is that I didn't have much to write about or think about except things that I just wanted to stop thinking about the moment I was done with my tasks associated with said thoughts. The last thing I wanted to do was actually journal and spend even more time in the misery of bureaucracy.
It seemed counter-productive to spend my time on those things when the goal of this time is to release some of the stress out of my mind through my fingers and into the ether. It wasn't going to happen, so regardless of the negative impact TV made on my kids last week, I found myself only wanting to crawl into bed and cuddle with Netflix in order to de-stress, so I did.
But today, I thought that I would try to make myself write about something that I care about, even if it's not a great amount of content. Because I'm so much more than a parent and a parent of a child with special needs to be specific. Though it takes a lot of me time, emotional energy, and general effort, it's not all-consuming. Or it shouldn't be.
So, here I am... I'm going to write about something else about me.
As soon as I can remember anything about myself that isn't focused around my children.
Books.
Okay. Here we go.
I've been trying to read for 15 minutes a day. I used to read voraciously and really enjoyed it, but recently I've found it hard to concentrate on much. So, I thought that 15 minutes a day would be a good start. I started my quest with Michelle Obama's autobiography.
The autobiography is one of my favorite genres. I think biographies are interesting, but autobiographies, when well written and honest, are compelling, for whatever that word is worth. I tend to find the word compelling to be overused and thus has lost a part of its power. Which is a bit ironic if you think about it.
Anyway, among my favorite autobiographies was The Private Life of Chairman Mao. It was an incredibly long, but interesting and heart breaking book. It was the story of intense fear and survival. It was set in a time when everyone was scared of being back-stabbed and standing up for oneself was a privilege that no one owned, not even Mao's closest advisors.
Obama's autobiography, so far, is very different. It is much more a story of supportive success. It is a story of opportunity and open doors. I find, so far, that I'm not enjoying it quite as much as Barack Obama's book, but I am enjoying it in a different way. I'm just not sure how to talk about that way yet.
And my 15 minutes of journaling is over, so I don't have to figure it out!
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
Phrases and Conclusions
Yesterday, I mentioned that one of my personal favorite phrases is this: It is what it is.
Some others don't like it. I've run into an inordinate amount of people with not only an "eh, it's not for me" attitude, but an utter deep-seeded hatred for the phrase.
These people tend to also hate the phrase, "Agree to disagree." But I really like this one, as well.
To me, these phrases are reminders that I have limited control over the world around me and that accepting the things I can't change makes for a smoother life.
For a long time, much longer than I'd like to admit and certainly much longer than was good for me, I believed that acceptance was an odd combination of conceding, giving up, and acknowledging value. I don't believe that anymore, though I'm not sure how to explain what I do believe because in some ways there is an underlying notion that conceding, giving up, and acknowledging value is exactly what I do when I accept something.
But it's different, somehow.
Now, it's more like a concession that the person I'm engaged with in the moment is more important than making sure they know I'm right. It's like giving up on the idea that I have any power over anyone or anything other than myself, and it's an acknowledgement that value is inherent in so many things regardless of whether I agree with an idea.
In reality, it's not always that easy, particularly when it comes to people who are in my daily life, whose lives are intertwined with my own and whose beliefs (and therefore actions) affect me. But I've been learning that setting a personal boundary is different than rejecting a person, just as accepting a person doesn't mean that I have to agree with them.
It really is okay to agree to disagree. It doesn't mean that both beliefs are equally right (although they could be). It just means that both people are equally valuable, and that sometimes (oftentimes) the value of a human is more pressing than ensuring that we're all on the same page with belief.
I think the problem with disagreements come in when we start vilifying those who have a different take on the world - be it politics, religion, lifestyle choices. Regardless of the differences, there's still the basic fact that most people come to their beliefs from an authentic place. Most people believe something to be important and find their own conclusions stemming from this belief. Sometimes, people with vastly different logistics actually believe the same underlying principles.
Quick example: Billy and I have different conclusions about the limits and extensions of free speech. But we both come from a place of inclusivity and valuing the individual.
Oh, well. What can I say, we're each a work in progress.
Now that's a phrase I do actually hate.
Some others don't like it. I've run into an inordinate amount of people with not only an "eh, it's not for me" attitude, but an utter deep-seeded hatred for the phrase.
These people tend to also hate the phrase, "Agree to disagree." But I really like this one, as well.
To me, these phrases are reminders that I have limited control over the world around me and that accepting the things I can't change makes for a smoother life.
For a long time, much longer than I'd like to admit and certainly much longer than was good for me, I believed that acceptance was an odd combination of conceding, giving up, and acknowledging value. I don't believe that anymore, though I'm not sure how to explain what I do believe because in some ways there is an underlying notion that conceding, giving up, and acknowledging value is exactly what I do when I accept something.
But it's different, somehow.
Now, it's more like a concession that the person I'm engaged with in the moment is more important than making sure they know I'm right. It's like giving up on the idea that I have any power over anyone or anything other than myself, and it's an acknowledgement that value is inherent in so many things regardless of whether I agree with an idea.
In reality, it's not always that easy, particularly when it comes to people who are in my daily life, whose lives are intertwined with my own and whose beliefs (and therefore actions) affect me. But I've been learning that setting a personal boundary is different than rejecting a person, just as accepting a person doesn't mean that I have to agree with them.
It really is okay to agree to disagree. It doesn't mean that both beliefs are equally right (although they could be). It just means that both people are equally valuable, and that sometimes (oftentimes) the value of a human is more pressing than ensuring that we're all on the same page with belief.
I think the problem with disagreements come in when we start vilifying those who have a different take on the world - be it politics, religion, lifestyle choices. Regardless of the differences, there's still the basic fact that most people come to their beliefs from an authentic place. Most people believe something to be important and find their own conclusions stemming from this belief. Sometimes, people with vastly different logistics actually believe the same underlying principles.
Quick example: Billy and I have different conclusions about the limits and extensions of free speech. But we both come from a place of inclusivity and valuing the individual.
Oh, well. What can I say, we're each a work in progress.
Now that's a phrase I do actually hate.
Tuesday, June 25, 2019
Ready for Bed
This whole journaling thing is still a chore. I remember a time when journaling was my life saver. I was eager to get to the computer lab on campus and type and type and type until there was nothing floating around my head. I can't remember what I wrote about, but I suppose there was a lot going on in my head, if not in my day-to-day. Well, I know there wasn't much in my day-to-day.
The fact is that when I was in college, it was the chillest time in my life. I was busier when I was in high school because the public school system hasn't figured out how to be efficient. I went to school like we all did 7:35-2:40. Band practice was 3:15-5:15 Monday through Thursday. Friday nights were football games and pizza at Mazzio's. Saturdays were contests with 6am start time and midnight returns. Sunday we went to church or occasionally slept in. Monday we started all over again.
I'm exhausted just hearing that.
Today was also exhausting. Not a bad exhausting, just one that is. It is what it is. (Am I the only one that likes this saying? It kind of grounds me. It's a preface to the serenity prayer, which is more helpful than I expected it to be considering how cheesy it also is.)
There are days when I feel alone. Not many people understand the plight of the special needs mom. People don't understand the hours of research and phone calls and driving we do. It's not the typical experience for most people, and I don't expect people to understand, but dang... it would be nice.
Today I didn't feel so alone. In fact, I felt very supported. But I also am tired. I had a 4-hour meeting at ABA about Brian's program, his progress, his deficits. I felt supported that other people see his strengths, but also acknowledge that he's a hard case. By the time we hit the grocery store for fruit and oatmeal and made it home, I was spent. But I couldn't be. I still had work to do. And I opened my computer up to a very nice surprise, honestly.
One of the things I've been working on is a packet for a subsidy increase request. The paralegal in me (at the advice of an attorney) has been dedicating time to detail and thoroughness, and I have felt that it was in vain more than a few times. But today, Brian's doctor sent me a requested letter stating in no uncertain terms that Brian's continued struggles were evident prior to our adoption and that he clearly needs therapeutic levels of intervention. This is a big deal because it can be hard to find a doctor that is willing to put their name on the line to make such definitive statements. But our doctor did it, and it helped me feel supported.
And then I worked. My work is fulfilling. I do a lot of research and writing in my job, and today was no different. It can be tedious. Sometimes the rewards don't come until hours of pouring over medical records, academic studies, and court opinions. Today I read medical reports and summarized them. And I am tired.
But I also had some alone time with Brian and enjoyed watching a show about ... dog shelter makeovers. (what!?!?) It was cute, if not incredibly campy.
So, all in all, it was ... a day. A supported day, a full day, yet ultimately a tiring day.
And so it is... here's to hoping that tomorrow will have the support and the fulfillment. I already know it will be tiring.
The fact is that when I was in college, it was the chillest time in my life. I was busier when I was in high school because the public school system hasn't figured out how to be efficient. I went to school like we all did 7:35-2:40. Band practice was 3:15-5:15 Monday through Thursday. Friday nights were football games and pizza at Mazzio's. Saturdays were contests with 6am start time and midnight returns. Sunday we went to church or occasionally slept in. Monday we started all over again.
I'm exhausted just hearing that.
Today was also exhausting. Not a bad exhausting, just one that is. It is what it is. (Am I the only one that likes this saying? It kind of grounds me. It's a preface to the serenity prayer, which is more helpful than I expected it to be considering how cheesy it also is.)
There are days when I feel alone. Not many people understand the plight of the special needs mom. People don't understand the hours of research and phone calls and driving we do. It's not the typical experience for most people, and I don't expect people to understand, but dang... it would be nice.
Today I didn't feel so alone. In fact, I felt very supported. But I also am tired. I had a 4-hour meeting at ABA about Brian's program, his progress, his deficits. I felt supported that other people see his strengths, but also acknowledge that he's a hard case. By the time we hit the grocery store for fruit and oatmeal and made it home, I was spent. But I couldn't be. I still had work to do. And I opened my computer up to a very nice surprise, honestly.
One of the things I've been working on is a packet for a subsidy increase request. The paralegal in me (at the advice of an attorney) has been dedicating time to detail and thoroughness, and I have felt that it was in vain more than a few times. But today, Brian's doctor sent me a requested letter stating in no uncertain terms that Brian's continued struggles were evident prior to our adoption and that he clearly needs therapeutic levels of intervention. This is a big deal because it can be hard to find a doctor that is willing to put their name on the line to make such definitive statements. But our doctor did it, and it helped me feel supported.
And then I worked. My work is fulfilling. I do a lot of research and writing in my job, and today was no different. It can be tedious. Sometimes the rewards don't come until hours of pouring over medical records, academic studies, and court opinions. Today I read medical reports and summarized them. And I am tired.
But I also had some alone time with Brian and enjoyed watching a show about ... dog shelter makeovers. (what!?!?) It was cute, if not incredibly campy.
So, all in all, it was ... a day. A supported day, a full day, yet ultimately a tiring day.
And so it is... here's to hoping that tomorrow will have the support and the fulfillment. I already know it will be tiring.
Friday, June 21, 2019
The "Always Something" Provides a Day with a Friend
Yesterday, I had the opportunity to take Ashlyn and a friend to the waterpark down the street from us. It's been a really fun experience to have that so close because (1) Eve works there and can bike to work and (2) we have a membership that allows us to go whenever we want for one low price! That actually is true, even though it also sounds like an advertisement. The park is pretty expensive for a day pass ($50/person). We would absolutely never go if we had to pay. It's just not worth it to pay that much money and then have to stay there all day in order to feel like we got our money's worth. Our lives just don't allow for day-long plans. We are such a play-it-by-ear family, much to my chagrin.
This is life parenting a child with special needs. There is always something. Some emotions to have. Some illness to work around. Some irritability to manage. Some ability limitations. Some kind of "I don't think he can handle that" or "I'm just too tired" to interrupt the plans that we might otherwise make.
And it's hard.
But I'm a parent. I signed up. No, I didn't understand the depths of harm that early trauma and lack of bonding can bring. I went in eye mostly squinted shut. I tried to learn about it. I tried to open my eyes. Yet despite the hours of classes, the countless books, the adoption conferences, the conversations with other moms, the Google searches, I just didn't understand what our child's past would mean for the future of our family. But that is another post.
This is one about my other child. The one who can do homework on her own, who can go to after school activities without running away or having a meltdown, who can maintain relationships.
She can do all these things on her own, and I'm so proud of her. But because she is more able, she gets the short end. She doesn't get the time in the car on the way to the after school activities because there's a tae kwon do place down the street from her school, and she can get herself there. Sure, she'd rather play soccer, but I have to drive her brother to therapy. So, her desires give way to her brother's needs.
Over and over and over.
Her time at a friend's house gets cut short because my schedule is packed with appointments and I know I'll be too tired to pick her up later. Her activity choices are limited because it has to be close enough that she can get there, either on her own or on the way to one of those appointments. Time we find to support her during her math homework is interrupted by her brother's urgent statements about rocks and insistence that someone look up how much a shark tooth necklace costs and crying when he is told "later."
But yesterday was different. Because of pool water or dirty hands or both in combination, Brian had an ear infections this week and was instructed to stay out of pools for the duration. Did it change our plans? Of course, because our plans always change. One adult had to stay home with Brian.
But on the other hand, Ashlyn got to take a friend and spend significantly more time at the park than she would have. And while it's a bummer that we couldn't all go as a family and that Brian and Billy had to miss it, I think for the day, Ashlyn felt like a normal kid in a normal situation that just allowed her to enjoy her uninterrupted time with her friend.
This is life parenting a child with special needs. There is always something. Some emotions to have. Some illness to work around. Some irritability to manage. Some ability limitations. Some kind of "I don't think he can handle that" or "I'm just too tired" to interrupt the plans that we might otherwise make.
And it's hard.
But I'm a parent. I signed up. No, I didn't understand the depths of harm that early trauma and lack of bonding can bring. I went in eye mostly squinted shut. I tried to learn about it. I tried to open my eyes. Yet despite the hours of classes, the countless books, the adoption conferences, the conversations with other moms, the Google searches, I just didn't understand what our child's past would mean for the future of our family. But that is another post.
This is one about my other child. The one who can do homework on her own, who can go to after school activities without running away or having a meltdown, who can maintain relationships.
She can do all these things on her own, and I'm so proud of her. But because she is more able, she gets the short end. She doesn't get the time in the car on the way to the after school activities because there's a tae kwon do place down the street from her school, and she can get herself there. Sure, she'd rather play soccer, but I have to drive her brother to therapy. So, her desires give way to her brother's needs.
Over and over and over.
Her time at a friend's house gets cut short because my schedule is packed with appointments and I know I'll be too tired to pick her up later. Her activity choices are limited because it has to be close enough that she can get there, either on her own or on the way to one of those appointments. Time we find to support her during her math homework is interrupted by her brother's urgent statements about rocks and insistence that someone look up how much a shark tooth necklace costs and crying when he is told "later."
But yesterday was different. Because of pool water or dirty hands or both in combination, Brian had an ear infections this week and was instructed to stay out of pools for the duration. Did it change our plans? Of course, because our plans always change. One adult had to stay home with Brian.
But on the other hand, Ashlyn got to take a friend and spend significantly more time at the park than she would have. And while it's a bummer that we couldn't all go as a family and that Brian and Billy had to miss it, I think for the day, Ashlyn felt like a normal kid in a normal situation that just allowed her to enjoy her uninterrupted time with her friend.
Wednesday, June 19, 2019
A Look on the Bright Side When Things Feel Really Dark
I have run into a couple of Facebook posts recently that have both encouraged and challenged me. One friend had her birthday this week and asked that her friend post three things of joy in our lives. Another shared some blessings that resulted from a battle with cancer. They both brought up an interesting response within me.
On the one hand, I started to move on because that's not usually my thing. There have been times in my life where I've intentionally focused on things I'm grateful for, and it often felt fake. I'm prone to pessimism, try as I might to be positive. Attempting to conjure up a list daily of things that I'm thankful for was an intellectual exercise, but rarely an emotional encouragement. Not that my feelings are the true measure of my joy. They aren't. But my point is that in the past it's felt contrived to me. And let's be honest... there's just that part of me that still romanticizes melancholy, a phenomenon which I attribute to my liberal arts education.
On a different hand, I know the value of doing things that I don't feel like doing and the actual (if not temporary) benefits of the old cliche "Fake it til you make it." In truth, there are times when a forced change in perspective is exactly what the prescription should be.
So, in true rebel-bandwagon fashion, I'm going to discuss something I'm grateful for precisely because of the suffering they bring to my life.
Broken A/C
Yes, you read that right. I'm talking no cool air and 90 degree heat. And I'm truly actually legitimately grateful because it gave me the kick in the pants to change my perspective -- to accept the things I cannot change.
When my mom was pregnant with my brother, some Jehovah's Witnesses* came to the door and asked her to tell them something she was thankful for. She replied that she was really grateful for air conditioning, a response to which they seemed disappointed. Perhaps they were looking for the cliche answers of family, friends, and provision of needs. But my mom, being the thoughtful and intentional person that she often was, evaluated her life, considered her current sufferings and gave an actual answer, instead of a trope.
This week, I find myself thankful for air conditioning from a different perspective. Ours broke Monday evening. Yesterday, a tech came out and informed us that the part they needed was on back order and it could be 3 or 4 days before they could fix it. They contacted us last night to say they can come back on Thursday.
In the meantime, we've been attempting to have a good attitude and count our blessings. Last night, I shared with Brian how grateful I am for my job and budgeting skills because we were able to go out and purchase fans at a moment's notice, and not everyone can do this.
Last night, I had my own little hatha yoga studio as I did my ab workout. I never would have done that if my air conditioning were on. But it was ok.
I'm also grateful right now to live in California because, even though we pay through the nose for rent, we also have cool evenings that last well beyond sunrise. So, the heat isn't what it could be for a good part of the day. I'm sitting now in my kitchen quite comfortable with no fan and no air. This would not have happened in Indiana or Alabama. But it happens here.
*They might have been Mormons.
On the one hand, I started to move on because that's not usually my thing. There have been times in my life where I've intentionally focused on things I'm grateful for, and it often felt fake. I'm prone to pessimism, try as I might to be positive. Attempting to conjure up a list daily of things that I'm thankful for was an intellectual exercise, but rarely an emotional encouragement. Not that my feelings are the true measure of my joy. They aren't. But my point is that in the past it's felt contrived to me. And let's be honest... there's just that part of me that still romanticizes melancholy, a phenomenon which I attribute to my liberal arts education.
On a different hand, I know the value of doing things that I don't feel like doing and the actual (if not temporary) benefits of the old cliche "Fake it til you make it." In truth, there are times when a forced change in perspective is exactly what the prescription should be.
So, in true rebel-bandwagon fashion, I'm going to discuss something I'm grateful for precisely because of the suffering they bring to my life.
Broken A/C
Yes, you read that right. I'm talking no cool air and 90 degree heat. And I'm truly actually legitimately grateful because it gave me the kick in the pants to change my perspective -- to accept the things I cannot change.
When my mom was pregnant with my brother, some Jehovah's Witnesses* came to the door and asked her to tell them something she was thankful for. She replied that she was really grateful for air conditioning, a response to which they seemed disappointed. Perhaps they were looking for the cliche answers of family, friends, and provision of needs. But my mom, being the thoughtful and intentional person that she often was, evaluated her life, considered her current sufferings and gave an actual answer, instead of a trope.
This week, I find myself thankful for air conditioning from a different perspective. Ours broke Monday evening. Yesterday, a tech came out and informed us that the part they needed was on back order and it could be 3 or 4 days before they could fix it. They contacted us last night to say they can come back on Thursday.
In the meantime, we've been attempting to have a good attitude and count our blessings. Last night, I shared with Brian how grateful I am for my job and budgeting skills because we were able to go out and purchase fans at a moment's notice, and not everyone can do this.
Last night, I had my own little hatha yoga studio as I did my ab workout. I never would have done that if my air conditioning were on. But it was ok.
I'm also grateful right now to live in California because, even though we pay through the nose for rent, we also have cool evenings that last well beyond sunrise. So, the heat isn't what it could be for a good part of the day. I'm sitting now in my kitchen quite comfortable with no fan and no air. This would not have happened in Indiana or Alabama. But it happens here.
*They might have been Mormons.
Tuesday, June 18, 2019
For the Love of Ice Cream
I'm posting because I want ice cream. A big one that overflows the cup and starts to melt before you can spoon it all up and rein it in. Because it's hot outside, after all. But it's not so hot that the ice cream isn't refreshing enough to make the outdoor dining with its tax-free implications worthwhile.
Did you know that if you take Coldstone to go in California, it's tax free? It is. So, always take it to go. It's way too loud inside anyways. There's the humming of the freezers over the ricochet of voices off the hard floors in the crowded entryway that you squeeze through to get out. But the outside, here at least, is beautiful because this is California.
And by now, it's time to tell you all what in the world my blog has to do with ice cream. Essentially, I'm a child. I'm someone with little internal motivation, low energy, a lack of passion. So, I need a behavior chart. It keeps me on track for things like healthy eating and healthy emotional habits.
It's accessible here for everyone that has a life goal of emulating me. All... none of you?
Regardless, my family is full of diabetics. (No offense, family, but you are.) Thus far, I'm the only one without a diagnosis, which was quite the shocker and quite the ... ahem... external motivation to kick myself into gear a little bit. Out with the sugar. In with the intermittent fasting.
So, if you take a look at that little behavior chart I've made myself, you'll see that journaling for 15 minutes a day is a goal. It's a bonus point that will allow me to attain the mammoth size ice cream once a week, since I'm eating no other refined sugars through the rest of the week. One week, I hope to find myself not even wanting the ice cream, but it hasn't happened in the 3 weeks that I've been working the plan so far. In fact, that creamy sugar goodness is about all that's keeping me going on many days.
But the reward of ice cream isn't the only reward, if I'm honest. (Yes, it's the best one, but not the only one.) There's also the strength that I'm feeling restored as I work out daily. There's the better fitting pants that I have yet to enjoy since I just bought them, having made the mistake of heading to Kohl's first thing one morning about 5 weeks ago.
(Note to self and all other wise women: eat a full day's worth of food before trying on pants. You will live to regret it if you don't.)
There's the feeling of accomplishment as I check off some long-lingering projects both in my personal life and my professional obligations. There's also the peace of mind that comes with mindfulness and scriptural meditation each morning.
But what I haven't had much success with yet, and the thing that has kept me from that Gotta Have It Blueberry Batter with Golden Oreos, has been this assignment from my counselor to journal. Introspection hasn't been my thing lately because there are some heavy things going down around me, and sometimes, it's too much to dig in and really investigate what's underneath my feelings. It just seems like a weight I'd rather not bear. Sometimes, I think it's healthy enough to just try to make it through the day (relatively) unscathed. But it's never quite sustainable. We can only ignore these things for so long.
I've tried to journal, but I've found myself blocked, so I'm opening up this blog. For today. Maybe again tomorrow. Maybe the next day, and maybe it will be a habit for a year. Or maybe after a couple of more superficial posts, I'll be ready to face whatever it is that makes it hard to breathe, and I'll revert back to a private journal because I'm ready to really deal with it all.
Either way, I've earned another checkmark, and I'm that much closer to heaven on Earth.
Did you know that if you take Coldstone to go in California, it's tax free? It is. So, always take it to go. It's way too loud inside anyways. There's the humming of the freezers over the ricochet of voices off the hard floors in the crowded entryway that you squeeze through to get out. But the outside, here at least, is beautiful because this is California.
And by now, it's time to tell you all what in the world my blog has to do with ice cream. Essentially, I'm a child. I'm someone with little internal motivation, low energy, a lack of passion. So, I need a behavior chart. It keeps me on track for things like healthy eating and healthy emotional habits.
It's accessible here for everyone that has a life goal of emulating me. All... none of you?
Regardless, my family is full of diabetics. (No offense, family, but you are.) Thus far, I'm the only one without a diagnosis, which was quite the shocker and quite the ... ahem... external motivation to kick myself into gear a little bit. Out with the sugar. In with the intermittent fasting.
So, if you take a look at that little behavior chart I've made myself, you'll see that journaling for 15 minutes a day is a goal. It's a bonus point that will allow me to attain the mammoth size ice cream once a week, since I'm eating no other refined sugars through the rest of the week. One week, I hope to find myself not even wanting the ice cream, but it hasn't happened in the 3 weeks that I've been working the plan so far. In fact, that creamy sugar goodness is about all that's keeping me going on many days.
But the reward of ice cream isn't the only reward, if I'm honest. (Yes, it's the best one, but not the only one.) There's also the strength that I'm feeling restored as I work out daily. There's the better fitting pants that I have yet to enjoy since I just bought them, having made the mistake of heading to Kohl's first thing one morning about 5 weeks ago.
(Note to self and all other wise women: eat a full day's worth of food before trying on pants. You will live to regret it if you don't.)
There's the feeling of accomplishment as I check off some long-lingering projects both in my personal life and my professional obligations. There's also the peace of mind that comes with mindfulness and scriptural meditation each morning.
But what I haven't had much success with yet, and the thing that has kept me from that Gotta Have It Blueberry Batter with Golden Oreos, has been this assignment from my counselor to journal. Introspection hasn't been my thing lately because there are some heavy things going down around me, and sometimes, it's too much to dig in and really investigate what's underneath my feelings. It just seems like a weight I'd rather not bear. Sometimes, I think it's healthy enough to just try to make it through the day (relatively) unscathed. But it's never quite sustainable. We can only ignore these things for so long.
I've tried to journal, but I've found myself blocked, so I'm opening up this blog. For today. Maybe again tomorrow. Maybe the next day, and maybe it will be a habit for a year. Or maybe after a couple of more superficial posts, I'll be ready to face whatever it is that makes it hard to breathe, and I'll revert back to a private journal because I'm ready to really deal with it all.
Either way, I've earned another checkmark, and I'm that much closer to heaven on Earth.
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