Goo

It's raining. Whenever it rains I feel my mood shift into a kind of numbness that makes me sleepy and unproductive. I could never live in a place where it rained all the time. I'm sure I would turn into a big blob of sleepy goo. So that's what I am today - sleepy goo.

Shawn is working this weekend. And next weekend. And the weekend after that. Ya, ya, I know what you're saying right now; that I knew this would happen and I should just get over it. Nurses work weekends and holidays and birthdays and anniversaries and days when you are supposed to go on vacation. But he's out there saving lives so I suppose I should move on and just deal. It's on these days when I feel like goo that I need him here to motivate me and push me into being productive. But he's not here so never mind. I will just sit here and write about my gooeyness and be unproductive.

Is it ok that some days are like this? Days where I wander around and do nothing but stare into the abyss and slip slowly into madness? I'm sure I can't be the only one. Even as I write I feel the words slowly rising to the surface instead of springing to life onto the page. What should I do to pull myself out of this gooey state of mind? If you say exercise, I swear I am going to reach through this computer screen and strangle you.

Random acts of photography

This is going to be one of those posts where I put up random pictures from the last six months in a feeble attempt to update my life in blog form. So....try to keep up.

These are my amazing parents!


They just left to go on a mission to San Jose and I had a severe case of separation anxiety that really surprised me. I was really excited for them and (mostly) ok about it until the night they were set apart as missionaries. Then I sorta lost it, had a meltdown and realized how much I am going to miss them and how much I rely on them. I'm feeling a little wimpy. I am not very good at saying goodbye, even if it's more like a see ya later type of deal. But they are going to be great missionaries and are already doing so many good things.

This is Abby giving her very first report in school. Each child had to choose an animal to research for the science fair and Abby chose dolphins. She did the whole thing by herself, including the picture and writing all the facts down on the paper. I was so proud of her!

Seth did a really cool science experiment with color and heat. He set up different jars of water at room temperature, covered them with different colors of paper, exposed them to a heat lamp for a while and then measured the temperatures. It was surprising how well it worked and guess what? He won first place! What a smarty pants.

You probably had a hard time recognizing him with his blond hair and goofy glasses, but this is Nate. He just turned 15 last month. I truly cannot believe how fast my kids are growing up. Next month he will apply for his drivers learning permit, which means my anxiety will skyrocket once again, along with my insurance policy, and I will probably need to actually do those deep breathing exercises that therapists are always talking about.

He was on the high school swim team this year and really loved it. It wasn't always easy for him; he had to work hard, but I think he learned some very valuable lessons along the way. Including how to say no to the speedo. (That's him on block 5 getting ready to swim the 100 freestyle.)

Alex was asked to go to the Sweetheart's Ball by his good friend Andra. He doesn't date a whole lot, so I was super excited that he got to go. Don't they look adorable?

This is Alex performing in one of his bands called The Soul Research Foundation. (He's the trombone on the right.) They had a huge event called the Peaks Jazz Festival in February where every band from the Caleb Chapman program performed a set. It was a blast! I absolutely love seeing this kid perform.

And just when you thought this post couldn't get any more random, I present to you what I call:

The Most Amazing Valentine's Day Box EVER.

AND...

Okie the turtle!

We turtle-sat him for a few days and I have to say that he is pretty freakin' adorable. I might even consider getting one for my kids if it wasn't for the fact that they live to be 50 years old and grow to the size of a small planet.

Have a great day!

~Meg

Connecting the dots

Abby: "Mom, what day was I born?"

Me: "On November 12th."

Abby: "What?!?!? You mean I was born on the same day as my birthday?!?"

When I'm old, I'm gonna miss moments like these.

Life marches on

It's so hard sometimes to keep a smile on your face. Life brings all sorts of crap to your door, yet I know somewhere inside me that it's all going to be ok. I've come so far in the past few years. Someday I will tell my story, but in the meantime, just know that I know there is hope, there is light and there is happiness out there if you decide to walk towards it.

First world problem

Today it's cold and rainy and my 11 year old heads out the door to school without a coat.

"You should wear a jacket. It's cold and rainy," I say.

"Oh, it's nice out there...I'll be fine," says he.

Now because I'm trying my very, very best to let my kids learn their own lessons, I watched him leave the house with the knowledge that he would surely be miserable. But what's really the worst thing that could happen? He's cold. He's wet. Big deal. He's not gonna die. So why do I think of this every time I look out the window?

Sigh....

Such big problems I have. ;)

Broken

I have been looking around my house lately and realized that almost everything I own is a hand-me-down. Battered, scratched, dented, scuffed and bruised, our house has what we affectionately term that "lived in" feeling.

I feel like that today too. Used up, worn out and ready to be donated to the local thrift shop. My mind feels weathered and I looked in the mirror this morning and noticed a nice, deep wrinkle in my forehead. Wonderful.

It's during these times that I am so grateful for the helping hands and inspired hearts of those around me. A youth leader, a sister, a friend, a neighbor, a visiting teacher; people who care about me and seem to call or stop by at just the right moments. It patches up my weak parts and makes me think that I might just get a little more use out of this used up brain.

Oh my aching head

Life started with a bang this morning, but only in the form of a migraine splitting the back of my head in two. I couldn't drag myself out of bed so Abby stayed home from school, much to her disappointment, but decided to take care of me with a serving of granola bars and tepid tap water. Sometimes she is so sweet it makes my heart hurt.

Two Exedrin and two hours later I treated myself to a homemade cinnamon roll I had made the night before. Voila! Migraine gone! I have uncovered the secret cure to migraines: carbs and caffeine. Two of my favorite things.

In other news, Shawn started his new job in the ER at Mountain West Medical center in Tooele on Monday. He was nervous at first, but in true Shawn fashion, jumped right in and is loving it. This is a sample of our telephone conversation last night:

"Hey Meg, I had a great day! Most of it was pretty steady and normal, but then we had two kids and one adult come in with broken arms and one lady who was so hysterical that I had to restrain her in order to give her a sedative. It was AWESOME!"

That sounds like a nightmare to me, which is why I would be a terrible nurse. But I am sooooo glad that Shawn is finally in a job that he loves. He belongs in an ER where life is always different and usually exciting.

Now that Shawn is in a steady job and Abby will be starting 1st grade in August, I have been contemplating the possibility of going back to school and finishing my bachelor's degree. The only problem is that I have no idea what I want to do. I have taken what feels like hundreds of "career aptitude" tests, but the results are vague. How do I find my niche in life now that my kids are getting older? I've thought about a degree in English but that terrifies me because you have to be really smart to do that. And let's face it; I'm old and not that smart. A degree in computers would be fun, but the field is so competitive and I am so not a competitive person. A degree in music is also appealing but not exactly the most useful. I would love to teach music to junior high or high school age kids, but the arts programs are constantly getting budget cuts or are taken out of schools completely. I know there are so many possibilities out there but I just don't know where to start looking. Help!!! I need advice. Thinking about it makes me head hurt. Again.

Life with Abby

Abby:  "Mom...I think I want to go visit America. Because then I could be on America's Funniest Home Videos."

I got news for ya, Abby. With the things you say, you could be the star of that show!

My crazy underground garage

I am not a late person. I hate being late, I hate it when others are late, I hate it when other people make me late and in fact, the very thought of being late to anything sends me into a panic. As a result of this semi-quirkiness not only am I early for everything, but I am ready to leave early for anything, just so I can be earlier than early. 

Such is the case at this very moment. It is 4:46 p.m. and I don't need to leave until 5:30 for a concert that starts at 7. But am I ready? Why yes, of course I am. And I have been ready for at least an hour. Now I am suspended in that vacuum of time that exists between now and the designated departure with nothing to do but pace the house. I seriously drive myself insane by doing this. Why can't I chill out?

Another thing to blame on my anxiety, I guess.

So I decided to sit down and write, hoping that not only could I fill some time but maybe, just maybe, I can talk myself back into a semi-rational state of mind that tells me that everything will still work out if I am not there 20 minutes before the doors open. I will find a seat. I will enjoy the concert. Life will move on. In fact, maybe I should let myself leave at 5:45 just so I can push myself into my fears a little. Like exposure therapy or something.

I do this sort of thing constantly. I drop Abby off at school at 8:40 and then I mentally count down the minutes until I pick her up. For example, every time I look at the clock I think stuff like, "Ok, it's 10:30. I have one hour before I need to leave to pick her up." I even have reminders set on my phone so I don't forget, something that I doubt would ever happen since I am constantly thinking about it the entire time time she is gone.

In fact, I am hardly ever late for anything. I am at least 10 minutes early to church and I am so immobilized by this fear that I would rather skip sacrament meeting altogether than walk in during the opening song. My church meeting doesn't start until 1, but I get in the shower by 10, get myself all ready to go and then have 2 hours to fret about the house, checking my lesson that I have already looked at a hundred times and trying to coax the kids out of their pajamas and into the shower. I literally waste an entire morning doing something that I should only spend 30 minutes on.

Help me! What do I do to control this? I can't be alone in my neurosis. Even as I sit here I am starting to freak out because I really want to post this before I leave but I keep getting interrupted. Heaven forbid if I didn't post this until next week, but I can't do that because it would be late!! Ahhh!

Welcome to my crazy underground garage.

From Soccer Mom to Stalker Mom

I loved it when my boys were all babies.  I was their whole world and I held that world in the palm of my little hand. I fed them, I bathed them, I colored with them. I played Pokemon, Legos and Thomas the Train. I drove them to play dates, to the zoo, to Grandma's house and watched them swat mosquitoes on the little league outfield and get kicked in the shins playing soccer. I was a good little soccer mom, too. I always brought the best treats...none of this "carrot stick and string cheese" business. It was all sugar, all the time! Yeah!

And then they became teenagers.

Not only did their world get considerably bigger, I became a little teeny tiny dot on the map. Now my days are filled with anxiety and questions. "Why isn't he home? Why hasn't he called yet? Did he remember his wallet? Is he too tired to drive? Did he run out of gas? I hope he wore his seat belt. Oh dear, I bet he's been in an accident. I'm sure he's unconscious on the road somewhere. Should I just peek at the iPhone locator one more time to see where he is?"

And then it hits me. I have become a stalker mom. An obsessive compulsive, control freak who is gripped with panic when her children are not in her sight. I'm THAT mom. The one who still tells them to be careful crossing the street. The one who has the phone number of every friend her kids have ever had so I can track them down if I ever needed to. The one who sends her sons on a scout camp with a whole set of luggage filled with thermals and extra socks after giving them a firm lecture on staying with the camp and not leaving food in their tent. I swear to you that I am one step away from implanting a monitor on the back of their necks like in Ender's Game.

To all of those moms out there with married kids and empty nests I ask: how do you do it? How do you let go and release your babies into the world where they can live their own lives and learn things the hard way? It seems impossible. I admit that I am struggling more than just a bit. But at the same time I think of myself at their age; my whole life ahead of me, full of promise. Most of the time I felt confident in my ability to navigate the world around me. So why can't I let them enjoy the same freedom?

I can think of a couple of people in my life who were and are still really good at letting their children be their own person. (Yes, Mom and Dad - I'm talking about you). They listen, they give advice only when asked and most of all, they let us fall down once in a while and we become stronger for it.

But it's just so difficult. It's this urge I have; this dang maternal instinct that tells me to wrap them in their blankies and rock them to sleep. It's powerful; it's overwhelming; it makes me wanna roar like a mamma bear. But I am beginning to understand the important role I have in raising resilient children who can problem-solve and be responsible adults. I literally have to bite my tongue most of the time to restrain the outpouring of advice that will surely spew from my mouth whenever my kids come up against an obstacle, either large or small, but I am trying, dang it!

And so I keep trying. To let them be their own person, to let them fail (or not fail) and to just let them find out if they can do some things for themselves.

But most of all to NOT be the reason they wind up in therapy. :)