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.
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
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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