Today I took my 2-year old to music class. She absolutely LOVES music class. She loves every. Single. Thing. about it. I on the other hand, don’t especially “enjoy” it per se. I mean, half of the class is spent crawling around the room on all fours pretending to be some type of animal while singing and dodging runny noses. I guess I sign her up for this class for two reasons only. 1) She loves it 2) I feel like a bad mom if I don’t, because she loves it.
Today we arrived a tad early which is rare, but I’m grateful we did because there was another mother (maybe slightly older looking) and her son. I told her that her son was adorable and she explained that he is actually her grandson and that she watches him every single day ‘til 7pm and loves it. I told her that she wins MVP Grandma-of-the-year award for doing such a thing. She smiled and told me that it’s been such a gift to her to get to “do it all over again.” She said, “Not that I was a bad mom the first time. I did everything fine, but I didn’t really enjoy it. I was busy and I mostly just did the same things my own parents had done for me- especially with discipline. I didn’t think about what was best for my kids really. I just checked the boxes.” I nodded as her words kind of washed over me. She said, “This time I get to be more present. I get to do it more thoughtfully.” Before I could say anything, the music teacher was coming around with hand sanitizer and various reminders. I sat there with Cami in my lap and I thought about what that grandmother meant. I realized how much I could relate to it. Even though I always believe I could do better, I do believe that I’m doing it better this time around than I did with Charli (my oldest whom is now 9). She was my first child and I was stressed beyond belief trying to do it all right. I was anxious and frustrated and lonely a lot of the time. Not because Charli was a difficult baby, but because I was just young. I was 31 and I’d basically been existing for 31 years in a world that was all-about-me. It’s a huge transition to have that first child, even when you’ve fought so hard for that opportunity. You feel that enormous weight of a little tiny life that is so fully and completely dependent upon you. It’s crushing. Nothing prepares you for the shift from coming “first” to coming dead last as a mommy. It can be a rocky adjustment at first. You’re not sure why you feel grief for your old life, your freedom. Maybe it’s having to eat your cookies while literally hiding from your kids or else they will steal them all…Maybe it’s the eating every meal in under 60 seconds so that you can be one step ahead of the toddler food getting flung into the air… Maybe it’s the no-privacy. Like. Ever… Or getting ready for events in less than 5 minutes while your holding a small child on your hip. Or the not having time to even feel your own feelings sometimes because you are so busy helping little people manage theirs - yet at the same time, you’d never change it. Any of it. Still. That doesn’t make it easy. As I’ve had the privilege of raising my second child 7 years after my first, I’ve tried to soak it all in this time. Even on the days that are just one big toddler tantrum after another I remember something Oprah said about how she manages all the stress in her life. She said that it helps to remind herself that she “gets” to do this. That got me. And I got that. I know this may sound strange, but on the really hard days, I sometimes imagine myself 20 or 30 years from now. I imagine my girls all grown up. I hope I'm still around then, but regardless, I think about what I might give to somehow travel back to this very moment. This tantrum my toddler is throwing over not getting to eat endless lollipops all day or the epic meltdown my nine-year-old is having over the shorts I told her she couldn’t wear to school in 38 degree weather…and I wonder what the “future-me” would do. I wonder what she would say if she could come back and get to do this moment over. I know she would be wiser, slower to react, and slower to anger. Softer. I know she would do it better than the current-me is doing it. I kind of believe that type of thinking is worthwhile in all things in life that matter. Every one of us can tell a story about something foolish our younger selves did or something we believed or said. A misstep the less-experienced version of ourselves took. A situation that seemed so black and white at the time. But what if in the midst of all the chaos. All the stress. The to-do lists. The tantrums. The taking sides… We could just take a moment to wonder what our future, wiser selves might do because somehow I bet they’d do it better.
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I haven't had time to write in forever because I now have the busiest toddler and third grader on the planet. My husband is traveling for work most days, so it's just us girls. It is h a r d. I try to juggle all the things. Cooking most nights. Doing homework with the third grader nightly and being present with my toddler that wants allll the mommy attention =) I clean and do laundry around the clock, drive 2 carpools, and try to squeeze in time with my family and friends whenever I have 5 free minutes. I feel stretched. Some days I feel like I just cannot do it all.
So many people know about my infertility journey but many do not know much about my inflammatory arthritis. I have Psoriatic Arthritis ( abbreviated as PsA). It's definitely not your grandmother's "arthritis." Infact while each PsA case is unique, many studies have shown that the pain, fatigue and complications of Psoriatic arthritis tend to be more severe over time than Rhuematoid Arthritis (also a form of inflammatory arthritis). In 2015 I began battling dibilitating swelling and pain in my knee, hands, shoulder, elbow, and foot. I was a stay-at-home mom at that time and I was in such pain, that I was unable to actually fold laundry with my hands, open a can, or even change a diaper. I struggled to stand long enough to cook dinner and even to unbuckle my daughter from her carseat or lift her out of her crib. I cried a lot. Very quietly... to shield my daughter from my struggle and pain. We enrolled her in daycare temporarily while we tried to figure out what was going on with me. After about 8 months and lots of steroids, prayers and going from doctor to doctor , the symptoms completely disappeared. My rhuematologist did not have enough evidence at the time to diagnose me, but he told me that if it is infact Psoriatic Arthristis, it would certainly return. I was so hopeful that it would be gone for good. Unfortunately, in December of 2017 we moved and during the move, my symptoms began to return slowly. First my knee, then my hands and feet again. I knew what was coming. I returned to my rhuematologist and he again ran all the tests, bloodwork, and fluid studies. Finally it was official, I had Psoriatic Arthritis. The diagnosis came with many medication options, Methotrexate (a chemo drug), and then a biologic medication that I inject myself with bi weekly. People that don't know me often see my joyful posts on facebook, out playing with my kids, being a room mom for my child's class, working out, or serving as a president for my neighborhood Women's Club and they think I've got it "all together" or that it must be "easy" for me somehow. My medication helps me tremendously, let me be clear- I have a connective tissue disease in which my body attacks and destroys connective tissue- this disease will never go away. I would absolutely be unable to walk without my current medication. However, I suffer every day with fighting the extreme fatigue, eye issues, aching joints after standing more than 20 minutes in one place, foot pain, hand pain, abnormal blood tests for many critical functions in my body (which must be managed and monitored constantly as PsA and many of its medications seriously impact kidney, liver, and heart function) as well as the surgeries (just had an extensive surgery this summer due to my autoimmune involvement in 5 organs- removal of two, treatment of the other 3). Plus the mental gymnastics that comes with feeling like you will never be like "all the other moms." If I were fully healthy I imagine my life would have gone quite differently. I imagine I'd have birthed my own children, breast fed them all, had more than 2 children, still be teaching aerobics classes and middle school math, not be exhausted all the time, and be much more involved in my children's schools than I currently am. However, if you've ever seen my obnoxious facebook posts with sweet moments of my girls and my husband, my dogs, my family and my dear friends, you just might get a glimpse of what lights up my soul, what keeps me going. What makes it all worth it. But, most of all... these things are my whole world. I'm literally smiling as I type this- they are the people and the moments I choose to focus on- I find that being so deeply grateful for these moments and these people in my life completely eclipses any "Why me?" victim mentality. In spite of it all, I believe my life is an incredible a gift and I want to live it in such a way that honors that. My life now is absolutely better than any life I could ever have "imagined" or dreamt up in my wildest dreams. My baby girls are better than any babies I could have birthed. My husband is endlessly compasionate and fiercly protective of us. He loves us and he is my best friend in this life. I am so grateful. I'm thankful for my struggle because it has helped me to become the empathetic and grateful person that I am today. I know without a doubt, it has made me a better human. How could I have gotten so lucky??? So I will continue to do my physical therapy daily for my joint health, I will listen to my body and take care of it so that, Inspite of it all, and whatever life brings in the future, I will enjoy the good stuff and focus on it always. I will never wait for an "easier" day, or a sunnier one, or a day that's less busy, or less complicated. I won't wait until the dust settles or we are in a better place financially or until the kids are older and somehow "easier". I want to remember everyday that all the hard stuff IS my life. But, so is all the great stuff and I don't want to miss a thing. In spite of the setbacks in your life, this holiday season, I hope you too will see and experience the lovliness in life, the blessings, the good, and the "In spite ofs." Your life is happening now and your setbacks are part of your story. They ARE part of your life and they WILL make you better if you don't allow them to make you bitter. There is not a single person out there that has it "all together" they are just out there being grateful and doing their thing in spite of it ALL. I hope you will too. We've all heard the quote by Anais Nin, "We don't see things as they are. We see them as WE are." But do you ever really just pause and take some time to think about the things in your life that you are viewing solely from your own perspective? Maybe it's that person at work that's a know-it-all or crazy competitive and you cannot stand him/her. Maybe it's that teacher at school that just seems to take it waaaay too hard on your child. Maybe it's that neighbor that you swear gives you the side eye every time they see you. Shoot, Maybe it's someone even closer than that. Maybe it's your husband who doesn't seem to ever appreciate anything you do.
I try to live my entire life reminding myself that I'm walking around inside my own reality that has been shaped by the experiences I've had and the lesssons I've chosen to learn from the challenges I've faced. My perspective is mine and mine alone. Shortly before being disgnosed with autoimmune arthritis, and getting on medication, I was in such pain- gosh it's hard to even describe it. At the grocery store, I would lean into my cart to take the weight off my knees and every single thing I lifted to place on the conveyer belt was painful. I was exhausted and sad. I was in such a bad place. I vividly remember the baggers at the store bagging up my items, telling me to "have a nice day" and looking the other way. Not thinking for a single second to offer to help me to the car (at Publix they usually offer for every customer). I felt defeated. I felt mad. I wanted to scream at that poor teenager and say something like, "I might look like a normal, healthy 35 year-old, but I can barely walk right now. I'm in so much pain from walking through this store that the idea of loading these groceries into my car actually makes tears stream down my face. I didn't go back for milk. Which we need, and I forgot, because I'm too exhausted and in too much pain to do it. Just because I look young and healthy to you- doesn't mean I am. My body is waging war against me and I need all the help I can get." Oh, I had so many things I wanted to say... But even in my anger and pain, I just pushed through. I said thank you and I pushed on. But I wasn't done being mad. I was mad all the way home. I had tears streaming down my face. I walked into the house and collapsed into my bed to fall asleep while my husband helped unload the groceries. When I woke up, I was still mad. But now I had the energy to tell my husband about it. Now he was mad too. He suggested that we notify Publix so that this kind of thing doesn't happen to other people like me. The thing is... there aren't a lot of people like me. I had a specific, invisible disease that nobody could see and I was still getting my diagnosis. I was going through something nobody could see. I was definitely the exception to the rule. I was not the rule. And this teenager had no idea. I wasn't elderly, pregnant, obviously disabled, or even limping... From his perspective I was in no need of additional help out to my car on a busy Sunday when the store was short staffed and there were many others requiring obvious assistance. I thought a lot about it and I reminded myself that even those closest to me had no idea how much pain I endured. How on earth could that kid have known better? I've talked myself off of many ledges because of this quote that I hold so close to my heart. I've been so naively asked why I "chose" to formula feed my babies as well as how my births had gone with my two daughters. I feel mad right away. Then I feel somehow embarrassed that I couldn't breastfeed or give birth and I'm angry that they have "made" me feel this way because of their insensitive comment. How dare they assume that I'm just like every other damn mother?! But then I get in my car and remind myself that they see me through their eyes. They see me through their perspectives. Their life experiences. I choose to get over it because they haven't walked in my shoes and I haven't walked in theirs. I try my best to make a habit of seeing all people in this way. When someone seems to see a situation entirely different from the cold, hard reality of it, I try to consider why that might be. If someone is sensitive about a topic or overly defensive, I realize they may have a prior experience that I know nothing about. If they seem posessive or overbearing I realize that there might be abandonment issues in their past that I know nothing about. Even the most difficult people have a story to tell- but you might not ever hear it. I guess my point is- you will be the angry one, the offended one- at some point in your life. You will also be the offender- hopefully unintentionally. My hope for you, and for all of us, is that we can do our best to be softer. To be gentler and kinder to others and to ourselves. I hope we can do our best to give others the benfit of the doubt. That we assume they meant well. That we are quick to forgive the offenders- even when they are not sorry and that we always remember that noone can "make" us feel anything- we get to choose. So next time you feel offended or wrongly judged- before you judge back- remember that "We don't see things as they are. We see things as WE are." - Anais Nin. Today, I am writing this post from my dining table and there is a soft whirr coming from a baby rocker that is next to me. There is a tiny little baby girl in there with tufts of dark hair and beautiful blue eyes. She has ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. She smells like warm milk and fresh baked bread. But the most incredible part, is that she is MINE! My eyes widen and I mouth the words as I type them... I wish I could tell you it has all sunken in by now, but I can't.
Infertility is a painful journey and it is a journey that doesn't always have a finish line or a final destination. Sometimes the journey takes you absolutely nowhere. Other times, you arrive at a solution of some kind. It is a constant reminder that we are NOT in control in this life. Growing up, I felt like if I played by the rules, I could control my life...mostly. If I chose the right paths and made the right choices, I could eventually achieve my goals. But infertility is one of those hard, harsh life lessons that some things are just completely out of your control. When bad and unfair things happen to undeserving people we want answers, we want a refund! But, we don't always get what we deserve in this life. And we don't always get what we feel we've earned. Hard lessons to sit with. But true. The secret to all of it is making the very best of how the cookie crumbled if you ask me. It's about figuring out how to keep moving forward when you thought you hit a wall. It's about making a choice to make the best of it, however different it may look. It's about making it count by counting your blessings. It's also about surrendering to the universe. I had hopes and dreams of having a second child after the miraculous birth of our daughter, Charli, carried for us by my sister, but the answer was no. It was no over and over again. We tried ivf with the remaining embryos. We tried with my body yet again and even hired a surrogate through an agency to attempt to carry our remaining frozen embryos for us. None of it worked. We thought we had finally hit the end of our wallet and our rope. We tied a knot in it and just held on honestly. I feel like we swung there for years wondering if the Universe might somehow speak to us. Help us somehow. Guide us. But I also spent my time being thankful for what we already had. We had a miracle once- how could I even dare ask for another? I knew better. But, I could not help but feel that we had more love to offer as parents. And if I've learned anything, it's that hope is what keeps us all going- hold on to hope with both hands. "Once you choose hope- anything's possible." Christopher Reeve. Then one day, we met a new neighbor that after hearing my story, tried to connect me with an aquaintence with an unintended pregnancy. We began down that road and I couldn't believe how "possible" it actually seemed. However, it quickly dissolved. Shortly there after, we recieved an email from another friend telling us about a distant relative with an unintended pregnancy. We also followed this lead until it too dissolved. We were so grateful for these experiences because they reminded us that maybe our journey was not over. Maybe there was a little one out there that was meant to be our child... Maybe we still had good reason to hope. We began looking into foster care, but after the initial orientation session- we selfishly decided that it would be too difficult to love these foster children and then say goodbye when/if they were reunited with their parents (and reunification is the goal of foster care). We have been through so much loss already and the idea did not sit well with either of us. That's when we decided firmly that we were going to begin the adoption process. We were completely lost as to where to even begin. We knew it was going to be incredibly expensive and that there is always a risk of losing all your money and still not having a child. We were scared. We were warned by others with horror stories. My family worried about us getting hurt yet again. Everyone had questions and I didn't have any answers. But, I think we just reached a point where we felt like dreaming and hoping for a miracle to "find" us sometimes just isn't enough. If you have dreams that seem impossible... First you need hope, but then EQUALLY as important, you need to work for it. You need to open all the doors. Every. Last. One. Until you find yours. And you need to risk a little. Sometimes a lot. We started the work and decided we would take the steps. We began to open all the doors. We did it all quietly because we knew better than to invite an audience as we stumbled through the adoption process. Several months into the home study process (to become certified to adopt), covid reared it's ugly head and suddenly we were unable to access the locations for our background checks, finger printing, and even the home tour was on hold. I couldn't believe it all and yet again I wondered if it was all a sign that I should quit. I prayed about it. Thought about it. Then over-thought about it. And finally decided that if I kept going, and in a worldwide pandemic was matched with my child, no doubt it was meant to be. A lot of people asked us if we were requesting a girl or a boy, or if we preferred one race or ethnicity over another. But, the consultant we worked with did not allow us to specify gender. We knew all along that we would not specify race. So when everything was said and done, we specified nothing- and I actually liked it that way because as I have learned, I'm not in control here anyway. I truly gave it to God in the sense that I believed with every fiber of my being that "my child" was out there and I wanted the path cleared for that child to find us. So I kept opening the doors. Several doors slammed shut. But one August day we got a call. A birthmother wanted to talk with me! I could have died right there. My heart was pounding. What do you even say on such a phone call? We ended up talking for 2 hours and it felt like our souls had known one another for a long time. There were really no rules. No playbook. Once she selected us, we had about 5 months to work together as a team to bring this little girl here. We were both on seperate journeys, but needed one another's support. Although we were different people, we were both just two moms when it came right down to it. We were 2 imperfect people, like every single one of us. And we both loved our girl. We both had experienced trauma in our lives and we had a mutual respect for one another and a gentleness for the other's journey. We had laughs. We cried. We cheered eachother on. I asked vulnerable questions about how our baby girl felt in there and what it must be like to give birth. She let me touch her tummy and even sent videos of our girl with the hiccups in her belly. She involved me in every way she could, including demanding that I be allowed in the room during labor (even during covid when they only allowed her to have her boyfriend). Somehow, she made it happen and I got to be there when our girl entered this world. She was superhuman as she gave birth and I was awed by her bravery. I cried when they asked me to cut the cord. Her boyfriend (the birth father) hugged me tightly as we all cried. They laid our girl on her birth mommy's chest and they looked into one another's eyes. I had to catch my breath. I knew they needed this time and I went out into the waiting room to join my husband and tell him everything. I wanted them to have every single moment that they felt they needed with our girl, so I patiently waited until they texted me and asked me to come back and hold her for the first time. I raced back to the room with my arms flung open. I felt almost ashamed of how badly I wanted to hold her. When the nurse put her in my arms...Gosh. It just was like life, in that moment, made sense. Her birth mother volunteered to take that first picture of me and our girl. It was like my heart had waited my whole life for that moment.Like I'd already loved her for a thousand years. We sat together that day on her hospital bed and we talked about her little nose and her lips. We touched her head full of hair and we even Facetimed with my daughter Charli who was so excited that she started crying. Scott and the birthfather went together to pick up lunch for everyone and during that time we continued to talk and take a million pictures. She cried. I cried. But she told me she knew we were the ones (me and Scott). And that was a gift. Over the next 48 hours, we had hospital rooms 2 doors away from one another. Scott finally got to meet and hold our girl! Be still my heart. If you know Scott, you know he melts for babies. He snuggled right in with her. The birth parents visited with our girl and they also let us have time with her to bond. When it was time for discharge from the hospital, we were all exhausted and emotional. We all signed a lot of documents and hugged more. The following day, we went to dinner together and all loved on our girl together. We were grateful for one another and gentle with eachother as we said our goodbyes. Our girl's birth parents did the hardest thing. They are heroes in the truest sense of the word. They are brave beyond words. They have touched so many lives with their precious gift of our girl. This post has taken me weeks to complete. Mostly because I keep getting interrupted by my girls or just life. But I'm not mad about it. I know these are truly "The Good Ole Days." Right now- these moments- yes even during a pandemic. These moments are fleeting. I will turn 39 this year and I wonder where the time went... When did I become a grown person? I wish sometimes that I looked younger or had better knees. I wish I didn't snack so much and wear stretchy pants every day. I wish I had bushier eyebrows and fewer gray hairs. But the truth is, I'm really happy and I'm blessed as hell. I'm grateful for my 39 years. I'm grateful for my amazing girlfriend tribe, my family, my TWO babies... I know life will never be perfect or look perfect becuase there is no such thing. Happy is right in front of you. Happy is right where you are. Happy is inside you. Happy is not the life you "had formally planned" for yourself or a new house or fancy car. It's soaking up every blessing, moment, and opportunity you've been given. It's trying your hardest and doing your best every day. It's cherishing those relationships that you can't put a price on. Happiness is a form of courage because it takes courage to be happy when life gets hard. Without some hope and courage, it's impossible to find your happy. I hope you're courageous and happy. Enjoy these precious, unforgettable moments. The older I get, the more often I realize I'm wrong about things. Have you ever heard someone say, "I had her number before I'd even met her."? I mean honestly what does that even mean, really? It means you judged her before you even knew her. This kind of behavior drives me crazy because I've always believed that every single person is like an onion with many many layers that make them who they are.
Have you ever heard the saying, "don't judge someone's story by the chapter you walked in on?" It's eloquently put and precisely my point. All people have pasts. They've fought battles you know nothing about. There is no human out there that is "simple" or "one-dimensional." No matter what image they might project, or what image you choose to take note of... there is always, always, always more to that story. Are you looking for reasons to dislike people? Ask yourself that question... Or are you looking for reasons to like them? The answer to those questions clearly says more about you than them. That's actually the main reason why I think I love people so much. I love kids for that very reason. There is not a single child out there that is unlovable- and I've taught middle school for almost 10 years as well as pre-k for 4 years! I've met a lot of kids y'all. Teachers know that you generally begin to love your students as you get to know them. As you peel back the layers and learn about their quirks, insecurities, weaknesses, strengths, and home situation. All of that information plays a role in getting to know your students. And why is that important when you are a middle school math teacher and have 130 students on your roster?? It's important because there is no way that a teacher can meet a child's academic needs without taking into consideration the "whole" child. And while we may never know every layer of every onion sitting in every desk, we do our best because it matters. I had students that knew every single answer, yet never raised their hand because they were petrified of speaking in front of others- I knew to give them a thumbs up or write an encouraging note on their test. I had students that struggled with every single concept yet wanted so badly to be called on and show their peers they could do it- I knew to be certain they had it correct before I called on them- they needed their moment to shine and I had to provide that. I had several kids that struggled with anxiety and even did things like pull out their eyebrow hairs and eyelashes during class or a test. I knew to hand them the hall pass and let them take a moment to breathe. I knew the look in my middle schoolers' eyes when they were fighting back tears and I knew better than to call attention to it and instead check in with them later without an audience. I knew which kids would rather die than enter the lunch room and I allowed them to work and eat in my classroom with a friend if they needed that. I taught middle school math in many inclusion classes with students that had special needs, some more obvious than others. But I helped to model inclusiveness and wanted to demonstrate the truth that every. person. matters. Every child has a place here in my classroom and out in that big world. I had an autistic student with ocd tendencies that needed to flip the lights on and off before we began class and I supported her need to do that. We all did. Nobody laughed. It was something she needed to do. I had another autistic student that felt most at ease learning from under his desk. I made sure to give him a front row seat so that he had a clear view of the board from under his desk. That is what he needed. I needed to know my kids to reach them, and I needed to reach them if I had any hopes of teaching them. I have a soft gooey heart for kids and people in general. But you want to know a secret? Adults are really just big-sized kids. If you care to know someone... if you have to work with them or interact with them on a regular basis... Make a habit of asking questions. Make a habit of listening to them, sometimes you will hear more than just what they are saying to you. Maybe you will realize that the truth is, there is a whole lot of gray in this world. You might realize that you are not always right and maybe if you really listen...you might even learn something. Remember, we all see the world as WE are, not as IT actually is. Read that again. Every thing that happens to you is conceptualized through your brain's filter. You are not ever seeing things fully as they are, but as you have "sorted them out" to be and just because you percieve a person a certain way, does not make it so. In 2021, I challenge you to rethink some of those people you dismissed as " too snobby," " too unrelatable," " too spoiled," " too weird," " too dumb," or "too-fill-in-the-blank" because maybe in-fact YOU are just a bit "too... judgy"... Perhaps we can all stand to do a little less "sorting" of people and little more getting to know them. I haven't written in a while because suddenly it feels like terrible timing to have a lighthearted chat about my favorite new trends or looking on the bright side when there is so much more I am needing to say. So much is happening in people's lives from losing loved ones to this virus, losing jobs, and even losing their sanity and peace of mind. We are all affected by this pandemic in some way and we must (virtually) hold on to one another as we wade through it together.
In the midst of the pandemic, we also face the Black Lives Matter movement. Everyone has their opinions on it whether they speak them aloud or not. I never want to get political on this blog, but I do not feel that the Black Lives Matter movement should be considered political. Don't we all agree on equal rights and human rights for all? I feel that it's a movement that all sides should be behind. I think the silence of so many has led us to this exact moment and I need to use this small voice that I have to speak on behalf of the black people in my life that I love. I have a sign in my yard that says, "We see you. We hear you. Your neighbor's believe Black Lives Matter." I have this in my yard not because I don't think white lives matter or other lives matter...I have it in my yard because our lives have ALWAYS mattered in this country. The same cannot be said for black lives. So many people have told me that black rights have come "SO far in the last 50 years", and that "with time, more change is coming" but that black people just need to be "patient." But would you be patient if your child was black? Would you silently hope that things would continue to improve by the time your black sons or daughters grow up? People told Martin Luther King to "be patient..." and WHAT IF he had been??? Just think about that. I do not agree with burning down cities and violence in the streets, but when change is long due and people are angry, there will always be a group that fights for change peaceably and a group that tries to get it with violence and destruction. After Martin Luther King was killed on April 4, 1968 violent riots broke out all over the country in over 100 U.S. cities. The city of Chicago was devastated by the fires, destruction, and looting. Was it the right thing to do? Would Martin Luther King have condoned it? No. But people were mad. They were fed up. They were tired as hell. And their "peacable protest" leader was just assassinated. I'm not defending violence ever. I am simply saying, "I'd be fighting mad too." So when I have a chance or an opportunity to support the peacable Black Lives Matter movement, I won't scoff at it. I won't shy away from displaying my yard sign to avoid the judgy eyes of those that think differently. I won't stay silent in a conversation when people are discussing discomfort with and or disapproval of the Black Lives Matter movement. As Abraham Lincoln said, "Be sure you put your feet in the right place. Then stand firm." This time of isolation due to the corona virus is such an odd time. For most, it is a time of fear and concern with fleeting moments of joy and appreciation for the little things. I have come to believe that facing adversity like this in life is a necessary evil for discovering a deep appreciation for the life we formally deemed "normal." When "normal" life disappears, you look back at it and notice all the things about it that actually were quite extraordinary; spectacular even.
I've learned that it takes a very dark night to see the stars. It takes a very hard time to appreciate the easy ones, and perspective is truly everything. You don't know what perspective is when you've never faced adversity, and therefore have no point of reference. Something happens when you get down on your luck. When your "normal" is suddenly taken from you. When your "constants" are no longer available. You are forced to gather up the shattered pieces of your former "norm" and somehow make what's left of it, "work." Some are better at it than others. Some fear adversity and will run from it at all costs. They will do anything to avoid "processing" their feelings and "sitting" with their unsettling reality. They will numb themselves up to avoid experiencing it at all. I'm not saying you shouldn't enjoy a strong drink or dive into those cookies face first on occasion. I'm just saying you shouldn't spend all your time avoiding this reality. Absorb this situation. Feel these feelings, allow the processing to begin, no matter how undesirable it might be... because there is a silver lining to "experiencing" adversity and not merely surviving it, but rising from it stronger. When you avoid it, you think of yourself as merely an "accidental survivor." When you let yourself experience it, you are healing as you go. You are getting stronger as you survive and eventually you begin to thrive. You find yourself benefiting from the lessons you learned, the painful reality you faced head on, and the hardships you endured. You are also building your "hope" muscle. When you survive and thrive in times of trial, you build a sense of "hope" each time. You look back and are reminded that even in the darkness at what you once thought was a cliff...there was a pathway. This is called hope. You begin to think in terms of "We will either find a path or build one." We can come out of this stronger if we allow ourselves to sit with the feelings of helplessness. It eases my own anxiety to help others in any way that I can. What are your gifts? How can you use them to help others right now? I'm doing as much as I can to help my students and continue to teach them and read to them online, get them resources and share my strength with them. I know I will only get maybe one more paycheck, but I won't stop teaching because it's something I can give right now to my students and to their parents whom are also scared and might be losing jobs and paychecks. I'm taking my spare time to try to do things I've been meaning to do like organize my closet, pray more, and especially to write a few notes of thanks to people I never thanked enough for their impact on my life. I've written old teachers, a couple of my amazing doctors that have helped me with my arthritis, and a few others. I try to practice gratuity in times like this because it reminds me of the hope that exists even when things seemed hopeless. If you are struggling right now, I encourage you to experience the struggle. Face it. And look for the helpers, like Mr. Rogers always said. Look for the people helping. Get inspired by them. Give to others when you can. Lift others up whenever possible. Give people grace whenever you have an opportunity to do so- we are all needing it right now. In the midst of the chaos in your home or total boredom, look at your child's face, pay attention to the way they play. Notice their innocence and joy. Try to experience that with them in that moment. Let go of the little things. Change the rules a little. Try not to control everything and just let yourself go. When the panic creeps in, step outside, watch the animals. Know in your heart with total certainty that all adversity provides opportunity for growth, strength, and hope. May you find yours. As a former middle school teacher for 9 years, sensory processing had not been a huge focus of mine. By the time kids are in middle school, they are (hopefully) beginning to take control of their own sensory needs or they have already been identified as suffering from sensory issues and have received interventions. In middle school, I knew I had kids that needed to take a quick walk in the hall before taking a test to get out their nervous energy. I knew I had kids that focused better while gnawing on their pencil or bouncing one leg like a jitterbug under their desk. I even had one memorable child that liked to sit under his desk during instructional time to take notes. He felt he could focus best from there. I got him a front row seat so that he would have a clear view from his spot on the floor under his desk, and that was that. He knew what he needed. Naturally, I felt that if those things were not distracting the rest of the math class, I was 100% fine with kids self regulating as necessary. I didn't think about the fact that these kids were self-regulating, or that they may have some sensory processing needs that they were taking charge of. I didn't wonder how they had come to realize their own sensory needs. I just thought of it as best practice to allow for it.
Now as a Pre-K teacher, I have been through multiple training sessions on how sensory issues affect our little students in the classroom and how we can best support them. I am no expert, but I want to share what I'm learning and trying in my own Pre-K classroom that may help other parents and teachers working with children with sensory needs. When you hear "sensory processing needs" your mind might immediately race to autism or the autism spectrum. That's a false assumption. Although ALL autistic children deal with sensory issues of varying degrees, many non-autistic kids simply struggle with sensory processing and can benefit from some training (OT Occupational Therapy) and coping skills that will help them self regulate so that they can better function in daily life. Today's average elementary school classroom is not designed to meet your child's sensory needs. Kids are expected to sit, listen, and actively engage in learning NEW information for 6 + hours a day 5 days a week. Ok people, let's be honest, how many of you could actively engage and absorb new information from a work meeting that lasted 6 hours without feeling like you needed to lay out on the floor in a scissor kicking tantrum ? Now you can see where our littlest students come in. Beginning in Pre-K, students are being introduced to letters, letter sounds, sight words, the basics of reading, the concept of mathematics, shapes, and even bigger concepts like the fact that we live on a planet called Earth that circles a giant star called the sun and there are a bunch of other planets out there too... Ok, their little heads are spinning now. Some of these little ones can focus for longer lengths of time, but the average 4-year-old's attention span is only 5-10 minutes max! So here is where their individual sensory needs come in... Enter *John. He is a kid in a typical Pre-K classroom that struggles to sit in "crisscross applesauce" position on the rug during circle time. He prefers to lay on his tummy or sit "legs out sauerkraut." Well the typical teacher wants *John to fit into her neat little box of what she considers "normal" and so she is a bit irritated by John's inability to get into "applesauce" position. She then corrects him and he can sense her irritation. Next, the teacher gets out a few fuzzy hand puppets to teach about a new concept. *John immediately reaches out and grabs the puppets. He stands in front of all the other children and blocks their view so that he can see and touch the puppets. His "impulsion" to touch those fuzzy puppets is all-consuming. The teacher is once again frustrated with *John! Why is he so impulsive? She reminds him to sit "crisscross applesauce" just like the rest of the kids and threatens a time out if he gives in to his impulsion to touch the puppets again.*John is feeling misunderstood. He needs to touch those puppets. Now he is becoming very irritated and curls up into a ball beating his first on the rug. The teacher has had it and puts him in a time out. Now he lays out on the floor and grips the rug, tears streaming from his eyes. He feels so misunderstood. So frustrated. He feels like a volcano that is finally erupting all over the circle-time rug. *John might even start to dislike school. Dislike his teacher. He senses that he is earning the title "Bad Kid" at school. *John also struggles greatly with transitions in the classroom and at home. When he is actively engaged in an activity that he is enjoying, like building a tower with blocks, or a half finished puzzle, he DOES NOT want to hear that it is time to move on to something else. At home when it is time to turn off the tv and get into the car, John throws a tantrum and he feels tortured by the transition. He loses all control of his little world in an instant when mom shouts, "Get your shoes on, it's time to go!" How could she be so cruel?! *John's mom asks him, "Why do you throw these tantrums every day *John?" And *John looks at her with real tears in his eyes, and he simply has no idea why he does this either. *John does not enjoy his tantrums. He is not throwing tantrums purposely to drive his mother and teacher bonkers. He is actually just struggling with self-regulation and his sensory needs are not being met. *John will never look his mother in the eye and say to her, "Mom, I am having trouble self-regulating." That will never happen. *John needs his mother and his teacher to recognize his difficulties and get him the help he needs to better regulate and control his senses to avoid total frustration of everyday life. To keep it simple here, there are two main umbrella types of sensory issues: Sensory Seeking (like *John, need to touch and feel things, have extra energy to burn, do not do well being expected to sit still) and Sensory Sensitive (easily overstimulated, avoid sensory stimulation, avoid loud noises, avoid bright lights, avoid too much touching and certain textures). The spectrum of sensory issues out there is a wide one and we are ALL on that spectrum to some degree. Yes, even YOU! You likely have sensory-avoiding/sensitivity behaviors yourself like avoiding loud concerts, wearing certain textures like velvet, or smelling strong perfumes and colognes. You may also have some sensory-seeking behaviors like needing to go for a run before work so that you can better focus, chewing gum at a meeting to stay awake, or listening to music while you study. You are an adult and over time, you have discovered the most efficient and least disruptive ways to manage your own sensory needs so that you can function at your best in this big bad world. Your child however, may still need help with this. How can we support our kids sensory needs? Here are some things that I have begun to do in my own classroom and with my own child: 1) Give Warnings before transitions. Do not catch your child off-guard by shouting, "Hurry, get in the car! Turn off the tv!"Give a 5 minute warning. Try to time it so that there is a sensible stopping place for your child. Provide a timer if need be. 2) Distract with calming toys (sensory toys). Remember when your child was a baby and you had to tell them "NO"? You found it often worked better to "distract" them, instead of reason with them. These toys work in a similar fashion. If the sensory-seeking child is feeling frustrated by a transition or situation, they can learn to better self-regulate their feelings by squeezing a stress ball, watching water bubbles, stretching putty, even playing with a slap bracelet. I give them to students to look at and touch until all the bubbles fall to the bottom. Then it is time to re-join the group again. We avoid tears, tantrums, and both of us end up feeling understood and respected. I also love using the stretchy balls during circle time for the kids that just need to touch something. I have found that if I provide ground rules like "the toy must stay in your lap at all times and you must sit in the back row to avoid disturbing others." The kids are able to self-regulate and still pay attention to the lesson. In fact, they pay better attention when they are allowed to touch their sensory toy! 3)Use a schedule. Kids with any type of sensory issue, like to know what is happening next. It helps to provide these kids with that information regularly. You can try to verbally remind them of what's coming next, but some may need even more, like a visual schedule that helps them remember what comes next. Try to keep schedules similar from day to day because all children do better with some kind of routine so that they can anticipate what will happen next. 4) Provide sensory avoidance assistance like ear muffs in a loud music class, preferential seating that avoids touching from others, even weighted vests or compression shirts that can provide a calming effect for overstimulated children. 5) Allow for movement. Sensory-seekers will need breaks to burn some energy. Whether they use a mini trampoline or run circles around the playground, burning off some energy often helps with focus. Some kids will not thrive in the crisscross applesauce position. Some physically need to switch positions and will do better with a space provided for them to do so. The bottom line is that we all have sensory issues. We all cope in different ways. Some of us have healthier ways of coping than others. Your child may already be coping well on their own by avoiding certain situations, calming themselves with hair twirling or even thumb sucking. As parents and teachers, our role is to help our children develop healthy tools and methods for coping with the many sensory challenges our world has to offer. The goal is for your child to manage self-regulation in the real-world on a daily basis so that their individual sensory needs do not interfere with their learning and development. If you have noticed that your child struggles with sensory issues to a degree that seems to be interfering with their daily life, I recommend having them evaluated by a licensed OT (Occupational Therapist). Even a few visits with a professional can help you, your child, and even their classroom teachers to better understand and meet their needs. I recommend this because the alternative can be detrimental to your child if they begin to feel "unsuccessful" in the classroom and constantly misunderstood and frustrated at home. Your child becomes labeled as a "behavior issue" and "bad kid" at school. This will be of no help to the child or the teacher. Be proactive and help your child take charge of their feelings and needs. If we can remove the frustration from the child and give them back control of their feelings, it's a win for all of us. Here are some of my fave sensory toys on amazon. Click to view or purchase. I am not sponsored by any of these toys, these are just examples of what I use in my classroom and at home with my own child. Sensory Stress Balls Spaghetti Noodle Fidget Toy Pull and Stretch Balls Liquid Bubble Timers We all woke up this morning to a brand new year. 2018 is gone and we all get to start again. Did you wake up feeling hopeful and full of resolutions? Bursting with ideas about how to make this your best year yet? Or maybe you woke up feeling anxious about what this year might bring? Maybe you've been knocked down by life a little and aren't sure you're looking forward to any more of life's "surprises" hiding around 2019's corners.
I posted this picture because if you know the back story, it sums up 2018 so beautifully. It represents this perfectly imperfect place that I have found myself in. This picture was taken on our front steps, with my cellphone, by my sister, just before eating Thanksgiving dinner. She snapped it in less than 30 seconds and only because I realized we didn't have any family pictures all together for this year's upcoming Christmas card. None of our outfits are coordinated, Charli had not had a bath in at least 2 days, she had picked out her own outfit and rain boots (which she is likely wearing on the wrong feet), our new pup Rosie had just finished using my husband's retainers as chew toys, and we had 14 guests that mean the world to us inside ready to celebrate Thanksgiving with us. There is no rustic covered bridge that we are crossing together wistfully in flowing dresses with the perfect lighting. We didn't pay for a professional to beautifully capture us. In fact it was kind of chaotic, but it's really just life. This little group of precious souls on the front steps comes together like the puzzle pieces to my heart. They are wild and imperfect and real. I look at this picture and I see the blue door behind us that I painted last year and I remember how badly I wanted it to be blue and how I had struggled with every brush stroke to paint it almost exactly a year ago. My swollen hands and my knees and back ached so badly. I remember being so proud of myself when I finished. So impressed by my efforts and tenacity, yet also so saddened by my painful reality that had become so limiting. I'm glad that the blue doors are behind us now. When I look at this picture, I also see my boots that may just look like boots to you, but those boots that I'm wearing are one of the first pairs of non-tennis/geriatric shoes that I have been able to wear completely pain-free in over a year. I'm so proud of those boots. They feel like such a win to me. I celebrate one year post my inflammatory arthritis diagnosis and beginning to take medication that is not without risk, but has given me back my life. I would trade the risks of my medication any day to have my quality of life. I have never felt so grateful for the little things that I have back now. I marvel at the things I can do with ease now that I just knew I would never do again. Things as simple as doing groceries without needing to elevate and ice my knee afterwards, cook dinner standing up, unbuckle my daughter's car seat using my thumb, and dance with my husband at a wedding. I see the grace that I have received and I'm overwhelmed and humbled by it. I used to think I was one of the unluckiest young women I've ever known. But now in 2019, looking at this picture... I kind of think I'm one of the lucky ones. I didn't earn it and I don't deserve it, but I'm covered up in grace. Somehow and in spite of myself. I'm not one to make a bunch of resolutions or expect certain things from a new year. I have hopes and aspirations, but no expectations. Over the years, I've learned that the only thing you can expect in life is that it will not go as planned. And grace is NOT something you can expect to come for you. You can't plan for it's arrival. And often times it's actually disguised as one of life's trials. It's face is covered up by pain and it's hurdles seem insurmountable. It's not something many people recognize, even when it is staring you right in the face.This year, I hope to continue to have eyes that see grace. I hope to recognize it even when it's disguised by life's tribulations. I also hope to extend it. Whenever possible to everyone possible, because grace is something we all need more of. My husband was expecting this post to be about my resolution to save money this year by becoming super thrifty... I know he is anxiously awaiting my post to go live so that he can read all about my plans to help him retire at 40. Sorry honey, this post took a different turn, but hopefully he will recognize the grace. Have no fear, you can expect lots of thrifty posts in the new year. All hope is not lost. Cheers to 2019 in all it's newness. May it bring you grace. May you extend grace, And may you recognize it this year in all it's glory. I grabbed this purse/tote when I was at Walmart- y'all $14.99!!! It has texture and is waterproof and can be wiped down with a wet wipe if it gets spilled on. It's every-thang! I also love the iridescent gold color and magnetic closure. I tried to find it online, but it looks like its only in stores. Hurry, get over there, you won't be sorry! These leopard print sunglasses by Vans, only $16.99 here. I love the leopard print trend for the fall season, I especially love to wear it as an accessory, like a leopard belt, bag, shoes, or sunnies. Throw these on and you are instantly fabulous this fall! You need some fun detail athleisure pants this fall. I love these from Sams Club for $15! They have a lace side cutout and give your boring leggings an upgrade. BAM! There was my life before Wonderpuffs, and my life after Wonderpuffs. Suffice it to say that life post Wonderpuffs has been a monumental upgrade. I use these in the shower with my trusty dove soap on my arms, legs, neck and chest- anywhere you want to exfoliate! I even use them gently on my chin and nose. They make your skin feel like its glowing afterwards. Then slap on some lotion and rock that baby fresh skin. Especially great to use before applying a self tanner. Velvet curtains!!!! Ahhhhhh so delish right now! I love a great velvet curtain and especially when you can find them on a deal (faux velvet) from Belcor Designs. I paid less than $75 for all 4 panels and got my curtain rods and rings at Walmart for $8.99 each. It pulls the dining room together so well. I love the warmth and texture and the way the coral and teal look together. You really can have a fabulous window treatment without paying a fortune. My new kitchen wall gallery! I wanted to put something on this wall, but not just a meaningless piece of crap. I wanted to have cozy pictures and display my daughter's art. I saw some similar ideas on pinterest and then found these floating shelves on zulily. I ordered the clips on amazon and my husband drilled them into the shelves and hung them for me. Now I have a place to display save-the-dates, party invitations, birth announcements, Christmas cards, pre-school art work, and even festive holiday candles, and plates. I'm loving it so much and it is everything I wanted. I can't wait to decorate it for each holiday!
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AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
February 2022
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