Rising and Falling, Enter and Exit at your own RISK!

I love the home school program we are using...it is so inspiring.  Last week we focused on history.  Every day we do Math, Vocabulary, Reading and Comprehension,  and then weekly we focus in on subjects--science, history, geography, literature, music, and art (the last two are done every week).  I cannot say which subject is my favorite so far because they all end with such beauty and spirit.  I am in awe as I teach topics which the children need to know in order to understand God, of all reasons, and then we draw it together with...God!  The spirit teaches them the symbolism of the lessons we have studied.

For example, at the beginning of this History lesson, I hyped the kiddos up into a tower building session.  I didn't say, compete, race, challenge, or anything of the sort...I only said, "Build a tower as high as YOU can get it!"  I emphasized the word "you"!

Connor immediately jumped up and said, "Mine is going to be the highest tower ever!"

He had already taught the lesson!  Before anything happened, he taught us the lesson.  I don't say that in cruelty, I say it in the manner of the fashion of the natural men and women we were created to be.  I would have said the same thing, especially at his ripe young age when he is so ready to conquer the world yet still so impressionable to be changed by his mother's teachings!

 Soon enough, the tower surely came tumbling down; immediately, the heads hung a little lower, shoulders slumped in loss, and their smiling cheeks flattened to defeated frowns.

Yes, we were teaching about "Babel"...the great civilization which lacked divine knowledge.  They truly thought they would find God by building higher into the Heavens...becoming His equal.  In their arrogance, they did all they could do and realized that they never really relied on The Lord for assistance, they relied on themselves, their "arm of flesh".

Pride surely comes before the Fall.

Be wise, and note that once you become "puffed up" and start the "Look what I did" rantings, you will surely be met with some kinda' fall IF you do not stop and give credit where credit is due.

Look at the BUSY week we had!  The white board was simply too small at weeks end.  I LOVE having our weekly concepts up so the children can look and read often.  It will be imprinted, as is every image and word we have ever read.  The white pages are simply used because I ran out of room...and had to be as the pioneers are, "Fix it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without!"  I couldn't do without, so I found old laminated what-nots, turned them around, and voila--a giant daily concept white board on our cup-boards!  

At the end of a busy school day, I had the courage to tackle rearranging the kitchen again, to fit the home school items nicely, and accessibly together for easy central access. This island is movable...and it has officially been all around the kitchen in 3 years.  I love that it adds another small division to a wide open square we call our home!  

There are doors on each side of this square...the east and west doors go outside, you may gladly or frantically exit with or without warning when there is or is not pending doom!  I stand corrected, they are accessible to me, and you will find yourself trapped with children who will, without warning, teach you the true meaning of patience and long suffering, and I promise it will be taught quickly by them, yet learned over a period of years by YOU!  

The north and south doors are for your resting needs.  Be warned the south door is not accessible in day light hours...there lays a man who works most of his life away while you are sleeping.  

The north three doors may scare you as well.  To the left you will find that a beautiful deep red and pale vintage green with hints of yellow and black quilt is delicately placed upon a cherry wooden bed.  Delicate is a term I use in regards to brushing the girl's hairs when they rise, as they are screaming, "Mom it hurts!"  I will leave it to you to assume the true interpretation of delicate!  Be warned, if you walk into this room, you will run into an outfit to clothe a child for every day of the week, and every meal of every day of the week, upon the floor.  If you ask this child to clean up her mess, she will instantly change from a sweet little princess, to your worst enemy, and that is bad with girls; you will emotionally be invited to Lydia's daily claim, "I don't like you.  You are the meanest person ever!"  I'm sorry, I have no control over a teenage girl....well, she's not quite a teenager yet, though she says, quite often, "Mom, when I'm a teenager, THAT will fit me huh?"  I smile at my four year old girl and say, "Yep, honey, you're almost there!"  Your feet will be damaged permanently with bruises and fractures from the hard little 2 inch plastic toys.  They are sturdily made for a size 7.5 foot to take a big large swipe with the , exaggerating the effort which went into the motion of "piling " the toys so they are easier to clean up in the end.  It is much like the action of moving your least favorite meal around the plate; it may look like you have done an amazing job eating, when in actuality, you have done nothing at all...nothing.  These hazards consist of Dwarfs, Snow White, Cinderella. and even a few of the animals that have survived the flooding from the ark.  It is a miracle those poor animals have survived Maya's innate ability to lose items...I happily accept responsibility for that trait.  My sister just told me last week that she admits to just walking out the front door every morning as the "routine" began--I would stomp the entire house, pulling tossing, tearing, and screaming for my keys I just had 2 hours ago when I got home from my night shift.  I slept for 2 hours and could not find my keys.  My husband sees this too, he just says, "Again?"

If you dare enter the room to your right, you will be hounded by two young boys, 10 and 8, who are desperate tot each you about their newest creation, where the secret hiding place is for it's flea that can mass destruct an entire town by the pull of the trigger which they have masterfully engineered from portion of this Lego set and portions of that Lego set.  I once thought we would be showcasing amazing creations, but those hour long projects have been broken down to form the art of creating new and technically challenging masterpieces.  I dare you to compare the thousand piece robot with six arms, each equipped for it's individual purpose, some even launching and wrapping around objects.  These robots have chests that open and reveal components creepier than iron mans light thingy ma jig that recently was removed in Iron Man 3.  Yes, compare that to Aiden's 10 piece motorcycle with a Lego figurine on the top. If you DARE COMPARE them, you will have a melt down.  I would suggest playing the straightest face you can on your entrance into that north eastern territory...it will be the end of you if you claim a victor, for you will be taunted with phrases such as, "Daddy says my Lego's are dumb", and "I was told that I did it wrong, but I didn't...it's no like there's someone saying this is what you need to do."  Add your best defense tone to those comments and you are at war with a child.  I promise it will only last a few minutes, and he will hug you again, as though nothing ever happened!

Go straight into the middle door...yes straight in!  Don't be afraid...it is not a dream, you are not in a horror story, and I have not played a creepy trick on you.  The cat squatting on the toilet is indeed a cat that is using the toilet to defecate.  And if you are lucky, you may catch him drinking the water as well!

Four doors and a box...and it is lovely on day our of every month...while we all sleep!

That is our toilet trained cat...such a funky little thins,  He adores his Connor. 

And this here is the new and improved Aiden.  AT summers close, he decided he wanted to be Harry  Potter...since he just turned  8, we decided he had every right to make this insignificant decision all for himself...it is void of serious consequences.

His hair was dyed black/deep brunette, he wore glasses for a good month, and he fashions a rob for himself.  Soon enough, he was a Ninja, Iron Man, and then the night he became Indiana Jones, I had to just smile.  He masters his costume making skills; while pulling out my old fishing tan brimmed cap, a jump rope for his whip, and clothes from all over his wardrobe to complete the look.  Yes, that first night, he was cow tied...arms and legs together behind his back by his big brother, on Aiden's request of course.  He was Super Man for his primary program, and just last week he decided he would like to do the Frodo look.

Last night he informed me that he wanted to be himself again...he was tired of the hair itching him, he wanted to see his callick again, and finally see his natural color.  I cut his hair, he said it was nice to have me do it (I have never heard that), and when i was finished he was in awe.  He admired himself in the mirror, as though he had seen himself for the first time.  He exclaimed, "I look really good huh Mommy?  Wow, you did straight lines here? (sideburns)  Mommy did you always do that?  Is this really my normal hair color?  I love it!  I love how fuzzy if feels!"

I was so happy to see MY AIDEN again after months of his superhero transformation.

It is fitting that for the Primary Program he got up there and in his silly innate behaviors said, "I am Aiden, I am a superhero, bit most importantly I am a Child of God!"

I love this little dude!

One That Got Away....OR NOT!!!

This was the only thing keeping me awake tonight.  Actually, I am chronically falling asleep unexpectedly...and I will leave that for another post.  I have never heard this original song, but I heard a little portion on a singing competition and thought, hmmm...sounds fun to sing.  No, I cannot relate to it because I never drank liquor or made out in mustangs (haha) BUT I did meet my husband shortly after high school and he WAS NOT the one that got away!!! HEHE!!!  Lucky ME!!!

FORGOT to post Halloween..it was written, never posted!

It is always so good to reflect upon life and everything that has come in place to create the individuals we are.  I have been doing some of that pondering this week with Halloween upon us.  I am so happy to celebrate my children's youth and joy for life.  In all honesty, I feel like I am not deserving of such amazing children.  They could care less about the gore and underlying creepy elements of Halloween; as a young parent, when I had my baby in my arms, I started thinking, "Hmmm, what are we gonna' say when he comes home asking to be a gory devilish creature for Halloween or questioning why he can't watch Nightmare on Elm Street?"  I never dreamed I would be in the position I find myself in year after year.  My children have no desire for those things.  Actually, the newest Disney version of "The Christmas Carol" was too much for them a few years ago...it was too devilish with the ghosts of Christmas past, present and especially future.  They felt a void come over them when an inappropriate portrayal was before their eyes, and it caused a great degree of sorrow for days with them.  I am amazed that even my Lydia, at only 4 years old, will come to me when she sees or hears something that may be slightly off...a person raising their voice, or a quarrel on a super hero movie, and she will say, "Mom, I don't want that on TV.  I don't want to die!"  The first time she did it, I reassured her that she wouldn't die; then, I began the deep thinking that she has been gifted with, and I explained to her that she is such a beautiful girl for seeing that indeed, if she allows her mind to be subjected to ugly and awful experiences, her spirit will experience a sort of death that is painful, but necessary, to reverse.  She understands purity.  Again, as I have said in the past, "Behold your little ones!"

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I was thinking about Halloween this week in our preparations.  I was stressed about pulling everything together, and even more so about my lack of homemaking; once again, the Halloween decorations remained in a plastic tub in the garage.  Seems that is a very common experience with Halloween, it has mostly been because of the many fall moves we made.  This year, I'd say it is the home school transitions and ventures to continuing my career...in combination with fighting this disease that robs precious life daily. I rarely give myself credit for the good I do, but I will always inflict a sort of emotional punishment  on myself for not being the woman I have been, want to be, or currently am.

In this picture, my Lydia is four years old.  She is about to turn 5 in a few months.  I recall my fifth Birthday very well.  I was so blessed to have a twin sister, yet on that day i felt individually loved and cared for.  I was meant to be an October baby, but my Mother went into labor 2 months early with us, and we became August babes.  I don't know why, or how, but we were in Illinois for out fifth Birthday.  My Grandmother, Nonna, was there.  My Great Grandmother, Maymie was there....we were actually at my Great Grandma Maymie's house.  I wore a navy blue and white striped dress, and my sister has a matching red and white one...they were very patriotic and sailor like in appearance.  I thought I was beautiful, and though I know I would have been miserable without my twin there that day, I also felt like the day was just for me.  I believe that give God the great credit for allowing us each to feel our divinity on a personal level with Him.

I saw my Great Grandma Maymie only once after that experience, and on Halloween Day in 1992, I woke to my mother with tears rolling down her cheeks.  She was heartbroken, and the confusion upon my face made it clear that I rarely saw Mom in this condition.  It was early, I was excited to get my costume on and head to school.  She said she needed to talk to us, and she did.  I recall her telling us that our  Grandma Maymie had died that morning.  Suddenly, the thrill over Halloween morning, and the day of fun and adventure meant nothing; as a child, I was frustrated with the utter loneliness and sorrow I was feeling on a day when all we knew from our past experiences was happiness and laughter.  I remember seeing my Mom walk to the dining room in the home, where the eastern morning sun came through a large sliding glass door.  She sat there every morning, usually in silence...but on this cold and cloudy October morning, the silence was cut by sobs;  we, as children, remained quiet, but the lonely house was heaving with Mom's grief.  She sat in solitude as tears poured down her face.  I went to my bedroom, curled my knees into my chest and sat in a fetal position for hours, wondering why Maymie was gone...wondering why God would take happiness from us on Halloween day, of all days....wondering if life would ever feel the same again.

Halloween was never the same again.  You could say it was because i was growing up and out of the costume phase, but believe me, I never really grew out of that phase.  I was in High School, weary of what everyone would think if they found out I still loved trick-or-treating. (I was happy to see some older children trick-or-treating tonight, so long as they are good and respectful of our little babes.)

Halloween simply had a gloom that hung over it, and as I approached this week I was confused as to WHY I couldn't get myself excited for the day when it is a day that I can completely let loose and have fun with these kids!

All of the details I just related came to an epiphany this morning when is saw my Grandma Nonna's post on facebook....she expressed the deep sadness she has in not seeing her Mom for the last 21 years.

In an instant, part of my subconscious self, or my spirit, was given light and understanding.  Because of deep personal experiences I had in life from a young age, I was changed; and yes, I do believe that some experience, such as death, change you permanently.  Just as when i got sick a year ago, and I felt like a switch was flipped....and I can recall the exact moment I felt it flip....death, in the few tragic ways I have felt it in my life, left permanent unseen wounds that physiologically and psychologically effected me to this day.

Now...I cam understand why Halloween is the most exciting thing for my kiddos still.  Now, I can look at them and see that my children, from 3-10 years of age, are head over heals ready for Halloween and the joy of the day because all they know is happiness in their sweet associations.  While i still follow through, dress up, smile the sweetest smile I can, and allow my children to dictate my costume, there is still a strange weariness I just can't kick.

Yet, instead of feeling an immense guilt over it...like I have for years...I am now able to understand why I have these associations and LET THEM GO!!!

I know I will have so many opportunities to hug and love my Maymie again.  I know that even now, she is aware of our family.  I believe with all of my heart, that she knows her great great grandson...Shane...for she is closer in sensing him than I can be right now.

I braved out a late night for Halloween nails last night...

And I had the company and protection of two iron men.  These boys are just awesome!!!

Lydia planned to be Sleeping Beauty, but ended up dressing as a blue fairy.
Maya planned to be Ariel, but ended up dressing as Rapunzel.
(The girls came full circle to their favorite colors and clung to them!)
Aiden planned to be iron man, and was iron man.
Connor planned to be iron man, and was iron man.

I didn't feel so bad about my girls when I saw my sisters children show up at Mimi and Papa's house.
Emma had committed to being tinker bell, but dressed as a cheer leader.
And Hallie said she would be Rapunzel (or one of the princesses, I think), but dressed as Barbie.

Seeing the GIRLS change of plans last minute made me feel a little less crazy and more...well, normal!

Maya told me today that I have "creepy green eyes!"  I believe the orange hair brought out the creepiness in them!

I was dressed by my children...Aiden planned the costume while Lydia insisted I use the hair, Aiden insisted I use the dress, and Connor stated that a witch can be good and fairy like all at once!  Really, i was a little bit of everything....and isn't that so appropriate for my current life?

We trunk or treated at the church....saw prisoners...

...played games....

....and put our hands into spiders eggs for candy!

 I convinced the kids we could do a few houses around the neighborhood before coming home, and though they said it was too cold, they quickly ran from house to house, gathering a bit more candy!

We spent the night watching, "Hotel Transylvania!"

The girls went to bed around 10 pm, and the boys were in bed around 12:30 am!
I wanted to be in bed by 7pm, but just as I have done my entire life, I am up, documenting life, lest I forget it and need a pick me up on my hardest days!

(Note to self: You felt so tired and exhausted all day long.  You had to teach children lessons, follow through with assignments, dress and do the makeup for two little ones who needed makeup applied several times.  you had to make breakfast, run errands, fold laundry, and even muster up some energy to get yourself dressed in Halloween attire.  You ran your children all around town for their happiness and joy.  For a moment, you felt sorry for yourself because of the fact that Daddy had to sleep all day again just so that he could work all night...again.  By the time 7pm rolled around, you sat with your girls and started to doze off, but you fought the urge by kissing your babes and hugging them.  You had to put Maya to bed 4 times because of her sugar high, and you did it with the utmost patience and love.)  You then sat and let the boys take 20 minutes to decide what they would like to finish Halloween with for THEM...  While they finished their Halloween, you played hymns on your ukulele to find peace, and then you did more job hunting.  Finally...after the long hard day...you realized that you survived, and survived very well.  YOU CAN DO HARD THINGS.  Every day is hard right now as you fight to just keep your eyes open, but you are doing it!)

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Oh the forgetfullness of being forgetful!

"Oh the places you'll go", or the places you'll get locked out of, or the things you will lose, and then find, and then lose again....
I really only needed bread tonight...and Lydia insisted at 5:45pm that we head to the store just for bread! Luckily, Dr. Pepper was on sale and I just had to have those yummy bananas because the night which followed would have been so not worth it otherwise:

A BIG thank you to my husband for hearing that I locked myself out of the house tonight and simply was so sad for me and the kids without questioning the dim witt I appear to be most days (yes, I lose keys and garage openers as soon as they are placed in my hand). He was so worried for my emotional frustrations with myself and our literal safety....now that is what protecting a family is about! A HUGE THANK YOU to my sister, Sunny, for taking me and the kids in so cheerfully late at night for so many hours. The kids were bathed, given snacks, watched movies, and played games while I curled on the couch in a freezing foggy fit because I have forgotten to take my medicine all week long!!! And yes, in a 74 degree home, my temp was 96.2 tonight, I'd say I need to figure out this medicine (or root cause) thing before I start dipping into dangerously low temps. And finally, a BIG thank you to my brother in law, Antonio, who, after working his long day, with awful second shift hours as well, went to the hospital to gather a garage opener for me and the kiddos so we could at least sleep in our own home tonight. The kids were in bed by 1am, and I am finally taking a moment to say thank you for the 1oth time tonight. I even lost the garage opener from the time it was handed to me at 12:20 to the time I put my sleeping Maya in the car at 12:25...it took another 10 minutes to locate it; I literally almost began to cry that time around, but you can't really cry when you have a comedian for a brother in law who actually took my "I'm so flipping mad at myself" infliction of anger and turned it around by saying, "Hey, it's just been a really long day!" Feeling so grateful that when all else crumbles, there is always someone near to turn to in an instant for relief. I love my family, and the burden lifting I received as I spoke with my sister who understands every body ache, shiver, fogginess, heart palpitation, dizzy spell, cold intolerance, etc., etc., etc., was exactly what I needed tonight; I cannot be grateful enough to have a sister who suffers all I do in such exact ways I do with this Hashimoto's, though I am so sad she has to experience it as well. There are times I feel the world deems me as psychologically insane, but my physiological symptoms are so real and so very hard to manage. Silver linings are always present, always!

Now, however, I am on night three of late night nausea with vomiting.  I don't know what is wrong, but I do know it is not a stomach bug, and it is very closely related to the slew of symptoms Im battling right now.  I am struggling to get through the nights more than anyhting.  Between the night sweats, the chills, the vomiting, the anxiety....and gosh the list just feels like it goes on...I am struggling so deeply.  Yes, I know it's after 4am, but the nausea finally gave way tonight....again....and I made a rapid trip to lose everything I had eaten today....

Now, how do you still gain weight when you are losing your food every night???

People, take care of your bodies...or they will fight back and force you to find some way to be taken care of in the end.  I know, sometimes all we can do to survive is work our butts off.  I believe The Lord understands that and will eventually, if not in this life time, rewards us for our diligent and courageous fight.

Now before I start to cry, I need to curl up in these warm blankets with a heating pad and doze for a few hours, praying the girls give me a few hours of rest after sunrise!

Simple Pleasures

Such simplicities make these kiddos feel joy!  Maya is huddled in with the boys, and while Lydia tried to do that, she succumbed to the blanket I brought along instead!

Real Life.

Just to be real...

It's no fun feeling fat and ugly.

Too tired to do anything about it. 

Over worked though I can't even wrap my arms around a tenth of the work I should be able to do. 

Inadequate and never, ever, good enough for anybody in life. 

No fun at all. 

Following Patterns of Suffering

Last night was a hard night, no doubt about that.
I'm okay with hard nights.
I have been through the ugliest of them and come out with poofy eyes that still see and an aching heart that still aches.
I am okay with suffering, it is meant to make us more beautiful and understanding.
I am even okay with sleeplessness...though I utterly hate it after working so many night shifts for four years that gave no hope of sleep the following day.

You'd think all of the suffering would get easier once you experience it time and again, but the truth is....it doesn't.  There are still poofy eyes, an aching heart, and sleepless nights when you really do have the opportunity to rest your mind and body.  I believe those things still exist because I can still carry a seed of empathy in my heart time and time again....

Even when I have been written a direct letter stating my trials have been nothing comparatively....that I need to buck up and be a woman, and sadly, through means which should have never occurred, she learned about all of the ugly history regarding our family (yes, the ugly histories that every family has, but nobody talks about....because they are just that HISTORY, and when you take it a step further, they aren't even History when repented of, it's something that can be erased).  Yes, even losing a child was a "get over it" statement in that letter...  I think that hurt worse than everything else because you never get over losing a child.  Vivid tragic memories linger, and the spirit of that tender soul is with you on so many occasions bringing that reminder near and dear, "I am here, but you must wait to receive the joy of my existence."

Last night, I had asked the boys to get ready for bed.  We did our scripture, prayer, and song routine as a family and with the chaos of pack meeting, I herded them into their separate rooms and hugged and kissed them, goodnight.  I was in my room when I heard the boys looking through the kitchen cabinets. I reminded them that it was bedtime, they grabbed a bowl of cereal and left into their bedroom.  No more than 5 minutes later, Connor comes in crying a fit.  I was kinda furious...after all, I did say it was bedtime.  He explained, in minute detail, what happened, and I got flustered stating, "If you would have only listened the first time, none of this would have happened and you could have been asleep by now!"

I followed Connor into the room, I saw the mess that his cereal had made and instantly had a reality check..."Connor is far more important than DS systems and Lego instruction packets."  SO, with that reality check, I expressed the deep thoughts I had.

"Connor, you are amazing.  I simply adore you, and the DS will be fine, the papers will lay beneath the fan tonight and dry just fine, but what is more important here is YOU.  I am sorry I hurt you by putting the papers and the DS above your need to be comforted."

Turns out that he opened up to me and said that the experience reminded him of when his Grandma Fultz was here for Christmas.  He has spilt milk on his DS, and she cleaned it for him, comforting him all the while.  It was a bad experience that brought forth a good memory, which caused more pain....because he misses her so dearly.  You see, this little incident was an opportunity for Connor to see how the Lord will work in patterns with him as he lives his life.

Connor cried some more, actually with the sensitive spirit he has (directly a trait from me and Daddy), he wept.  He had asked me at 9:30 to lay in bed with him and cuddle for a bit since he never has that time with me.  I let him know it was late and he needed to rest at that time.  Now, however, I was given a second chance; I took that chance, and I laid with him for a long while until the tears stopped flowing and the breathing turned into normal slow rhythmic sleep ready sighs.  All was well in the end...because I placed the needs of a hurting soul above my perception of what looked to be the BIG problem.

I ended up tossing and turning all night with nightmares.  I went to bed early only to wake to sleeplessness at 1:30 am...went back to sleep at 3, only to be waken by my screaming daughter at 3:30.  She finally calmed closer to 4:30, only for all of us to be waken by my other screaming daughter at 5:30...both girls were begging for syrup and milk, so by the time syrup and milk came bright and early, I was loathing syrup and milk.

After that long hard night, I woke to a frustrating drama that could have been resolved by the same means I implemented with Connor last night.  Offense was taken over things that were not understood by an individual in our lives and when I attempted to make things right, and explain myself further, things simply remained stagnant.

And....
I'm okay with that.
I am okay with allowing a person to have their free will to accept an explanation or not.
I am okay with everything that I said, because they came from my experiences which only me and God can fully understand...
I am okay being called something I don't believe I am because I am simply not known in the proper light.
I am okay with gaining a terrible reputation amongst so many who should regard me in the kindest light.
Yet, I am only okay with these things because I know who I am and I know who I belong to.
I know that my Savior had to endure greater things than I, and I know, through the spirit of peace, that I have done all I can, in the swiftest manner that I can, to patch misunderstandings, even if it is not reciprocated in the proper manner.

I honestly wish I could say that I want thick skin, but I don't.
I have been through too much which has molded me into someone of understanding people in their grief to want thick skin.  I want to feel the pain of my experiences to learn how to help another when they are feeling that stab, that open wound, and that piercing heart.  I want empathy.  What I could ask someone take from me is my partial dependency on another's opinion of me.  I don't want to be known as a gossiper or anything else I have been called, and I don't want to effect me even for a moment.  It gets easier in time to stand in confidence, but I suppose there is meant to be pain in hearing these things.  Pain can always be of benefit...if we allow it to mold into empathy.

There is one thing amidst it all I wish I could have....loving arms that know 100% of what I am experiencing come to my aide and wrap me so tight that the tears stop falling and the labored breathing becomes effortless.  There is only One who can truly do that, yet I do believe we should act in His name and attempt to minister to people in pain, in that pattern.  That is truly what we have covenanted to do, to take one another's burdens, that they may be light

I pray I move forward with the ability to do that a little better every day.