No Apologies

I have a super funny post in the back of my mind. It will appear here soon, I promise. But right now I am thinking of myself and the ridiculous thoughts that I have. These are the thoughts that over ride my chance to live in the moment and just be. I have always thought that I was chubby and unattractive. Well to be truthful, I thought I was fat. I look back at pictures and am amazed at how cute I was (well, except for that awkward 14-15 phase). Lily pulled out my homecoming dress from my junior year. The waist was so tiny, she couldn't even fasten it around her own. Caroline commented "God Mom, you were skinny." Then I explained that at the time, I thought I was fat. I wore that cool vintage dress (before vintage was a thing), but couldn't get past my worries about my hair, my legs, my stomach, my skin, my glasses, my butt.

I am so proud of myself because I see none of this in my girls. They wear what is comfortable. They are confident in their beauty. We taught them that! I have made an effort to never voice my insecurities about my appearance in front of them.

I need to some how do for myself, what I have done for my girls. Today I sat in a school training feeling over weight and over heated. I watched my young petite co workers shiver while I wiped sweat from my lip. I felt the need to apologize. I mentioned the sweating and weight gain were the side effects of medication. The shocked response? "You gained weight? I don't see it. You're sweating?" I need to get out of my head and stop over analyzing everything.

Carpe Diem

Today, I cleaned up the latest round of apple/sauce fish capsule mess and decided to find chewable alternatives. They are ordered and on their way! I have come too far with Lily to have a choking, gagging battle over pills.

I am able to let this hiccup roll right off. I think it is due in large part to the fact that we have had the most relaxing summer ever. I have had so much fun with my girls, swimming, late night drives, movies, reading, and general silliness! Tonight was no exception. While we were waiting for the oven to heat up, Lily and I danced and sang all around the kitchen. I was thinking that it is possible to find moments of happiness even when your heart has been broken. It is possible to move forward.

Lily, Caroline, and Rob are my reasons for moving forward and trying to take better care of myself. Right after we spoke to Lily's doctor, I decided to go back on Zoloft. I owe it to Lily to approach this next school year with my best. My best is a well rested and anxiety free mother-teacher. Zoloft and I have a love-hate relationship. When I am on it, I don't have panic attacks over everyday things; I don't wake up in the middle of the night with my head reeling from lists. However, when I am on it, my appetite triples. I eat like I have a tapeworm. This time I also seem to sweat a lot. Neither thing is very attractive. I am hoping that as I feel better, I will have more energy to exercise. Last night I took a long walk. So that's a start.

I am lucky. My anxiety is mild. I am aware of it and know when to take steps to get myself back on track (ok, so this round I let it go on a bit too long). Not everyone has the resources and support that I have. Not all mental illness is the same. It is not something that can be cured or just goes away. In some ways it becomes a way of life.

Tonight after sitting down to a dinner where Lily and I talked about our expectations for the next school year, I opened my computer and read about Robin Williams's passing. I am so heartbroken for his family. Judging by some of the comments I'm seeing, our country still has a long way to go in our understanding of mental illness. It isn't a choice, nor is it the disease du jour that everyone needs to suddenly develop (I'm talking to you teenage girls who think it is okay to run around with ink quotation marks on your wrists because you have thought about committing suicide). We need to be patient and supportive of families who are battling mental illness. We need to be open and honest, so those who are hurting feel comfortable seeking help. We need to start the conversation and keep it going. Rest in Peace Mr. Williams.

Fighting the good fight

This has by far been an awesome summer. Of course the usual crap that follows my family has continued, but overall it has been awesome. I'll sum up everything we've done in another post. This one is all about the awesomeness that is Lily. We finally have a diagnosis: ADHD Inattentive Type and Anxiety. The diagnosis wasn't a shocker, but it gave me a plan of action. Actually, I had put that plan in place at the beginning of the summer, even before we had a diagnosis. The biggest thing to remember is this does not define my amazing little girl. It's just another part of her, like blue eyes.

We have spent the summer setting up various doctor appointments ("Seriously, Mom, another doctor?") and boosting her confidence. She is sooo much calmer and compliant. Today she got up and dressed and out the door without a battle! Of course this will be much more difficult once school starts, but I feel like we've deposited enough positive, so it might not be as big a battle (fingers crossed).

Today the doctor gave us an herbal supplement that an excellent reputation for helping children with ADHD. It is an Omega 3 supplement (stronger than what I have been giving her). The catch? It is in a capsule. Lily has a very hard time swallowing pills. It went something like this:

Lily tried taking it with juice; it stuck to her tongue and there went one capsule wasted. I called Rob for advice and he suggested milk. The next capsule and milk ended up all over me and the kitchen floor when she choked and gagged. I didn't want to waste that one, so I broke it open and mixed it with strawberry yogurt. She took a bite and started choking, then spit it on the floor in a mess of pink and orangish green. I asked her what it tasted like, and she screwed up her tear stained face, thinking carefully about the worst tastes she could imagine. Finally, she sputtered out "Brussels sprouts!!!" Lily has never eaten brussels sprouts, but I understood it must be gross. I took out two more capsules and mixed them with cinnamon apple sauce. Before I tried to give it to her, I tasted it. Great! I just made cinnamon-fish apple sauce! Because Lily is a rock star, she manged to choke it down. It might have had something to do with the fact that I promised her a spoon of ice cream. I gave her a serving spoon of ice cream (she earned it), and proceeded to clean up the yogurt-milk-applesauce-dried fish covered kitchen. It smelled like a toddler who'd been swimming with krill. We need to teach Lily to swallow capsules soon!

Proud

At this moment in time, we are holed up around here having a bit of a "Simpson Family Love-Fest." Before you get any dirty ideas, I simply mean we are proud to be us. We have joined together and made it through some rather difficult times. We are gearing up to make it through some more.

 I am especially proud of my girls. Rob and I have raised two girls who look at the world at large and see possibility. Both of them (even our little introvert) look at the world with eyes and hearts full of compassion. We have raised two girls who can speak of mental illness and disabilities (especially anxiety) in their own terms. They understand that not everyone see or feels or deals with the world in the same way and they accept it. They don't view skin color or ability level or economic status as the defining feature of an individual. Time and time again, I see them striving to help others (even if it is simply through a wish) to have the best life they can.They find laughter in every day, even when they are scared or sad or mad as hell. They know how to find their support system (be it our little family or friends) and check in for a recharge. They can talk about and have opinions about so many things that kids their age don't. There is no lacking for conversation or laughter here.

My girls aren't conventional. They aren't very good at tricks that impress (on tests or sports fields or stages). They go through life doggedly determined to continue to be themselves, even when society pushes them to change. At first they might seem aloof, stoic, shy, and at times a bit rude. But when you get to know them, sit down somewhere quiet, and let them talk to you? These two girls have big amazing thoughts. They have endless compassion and a desire to right the wrongs of the world (even if they do it on a small scale).

I don't need certificates or high test scores or fancy programs to tell me what I know. These two will be just fine. They go into the world and follow their passions and changes lives (maybe many, maybe just a few). They will make an impact upon this world. And in their own "off the beaten path quirky way," they will have changed it for the better. How do I know this? They have already changed mine.

When Answers Are Not Definitions

We met with Lily's doctor and listened carefully to her report. Most of the information was not at all surprising, a little sad because now we now how hard she will have to work and how hard we will have to fight beside her. I have had time to process it all, and I have come away with this: we are already well on our way to providing what she needs and she is defined by her abilities and disabilities. Each of those things is a small part of what makes her Lily. Like every person she is complex and not easily defined by one word or label.

Once I stopped fighting things and asked myself  "If she were your student, what would you do?" This summer hasn't been perfect, but it has been so much better. I have broken things into small chunks for her. She has read almost everyday. We haven't kept up with math as well. I am going to focus more on that next month. She does best when she has 30 minutes of work and then a few minutes of relaxing time. Of course, I can't quit my job to do this and the school can't do this, but at least I have given her some time to recover from the last school year.

The doctor suggested that we model how to handle frustration and anxiety by talking out loud about how we are handling a situation. I had started doing that even before we met with the doctor and it has been very successful. She has been in quiet a few frustration situations this summer. She gets angry, goes away, comes back to apologize, and tells me what she can do next time. She hasn't been hiding under tables or walking away.

In large groups she still gets overwhelmed. She will tell me there are too many people, and I will ask her "What are you going to do?" She will choose to move away, come talk with me, find something to fidget with, take breathes... We have made sure to tell her what the situation will be like before we get there. We trouble shoot any worries we have and have her come up with ideas to handle them. We have tried very hard to warn her ahead of time when things might change.

I am dreading going back to school. The bottom line is this: she is still behind academically. The increased pressure and more intense schedule, will blow this cozy little bubble wide open. We will see if she can apply the strategies she's learned. It is so tempting to just pull her close and keep the rest of the world out, but that's not fair to her and it isn't fair to those few people who are lucky enough to see Lily for the wonderful girl she is. When she lets you in, it is a thing or beauty.

Book Talks

At the beginning of the summer, I found a big stack of paper backs in the basement. I have no idea where they came from. I could have bought them at the library book sale and forgotten about them. They just as easily could have come from my mother's house. All I know is it was the biggest and best surprise of the summer. I have plowed through the stack, taking time out to add to the stack (either other books that I've wanted to read or books by the same authors).

I think one of the hardest things about getting back into reading so many books is I don't really have anyone to share them with. I used to call my mom, recommend the book, and usually, I'd buy it for her. My mother loved to read. We had similar taste in books, although she tended to like mysteries and action whereas, I like books with feelings/emotions. I keep a notebook by my bed and write down the quotes that move me. I savor books, while my mother tore through them. Both of us had no patience for overly "trite" books (we also had the unusual habit of reading books backwards). I also tend to steer clear of "fad" books. I still haven't read 50 Shades of Grey, it just doesn't seem to be my type of book. I am a book snob and have passed this trait onto Caroline. Nothing ticks her off more than the masses discovering one of her beloved and unknown books (can we say The Fault in Our Stars?).

I have only met one other person who shares my insane love of books. We can talk for hours about books. The conversations meanders through a maze of authors and quotes and personal connections. Unfortunately, she travels to be with her family every summer. Once she is back, I will hit her with my latest list! We don't get to hang out very often, but when we do, it is always at the library. We roam the stacks grabbing books for each other. You know the stereotype about women and shoes stores? That's us and books.

I had a dream about my mother a couple of weeks ago. She comes to me in dreams so much more often than my other family members do. Every time I dream about her, I wake up feeling so calm and peaceful. Whether these dreams are the result of heavenly visits or the needs of my subconscious doesn't matter. These dreams help. I tend to keep them to myself because I am afraid of sounding childish, and it would make them less special.

This time, it was all about books. She and I were sitting working on some sort of craft project. I think it was crochet, which is funny because first of all I don't crochet and second of all my mother and I were hardly the sort to sit around and craft together. We craft/crafted as a way to keep our hands busy. Our crafting was solitary, not bonding. My mother loved to crochet. It was nice to have shared that with, even if it was only a dream. I was telling her all about The Glass Castle and how much she would like it. She was very excited and couldn't wait to read it. The best part is she was just like she'd always been: long brown hair, slightly husky voice, but she was calmer and more peaceful than I'd ever seen her. She wasn't in a hurry or trying to move onto the next thing. Nothing else (my brother, the dog, my kids, the TV, stories about other people) was distracting her. I had her undivided attention. That was a rare thing to get while she was alive. It wasn't personal, my mother was a multi-tasker. She rarely did one thing at a time (much like me now). It really was the nicest moment.

Comfort Zone

Just as I am lamenting not really having close friends and being stuck in a rut, I come to find out that this seems to be a universal theme amongst the women I know. I continue to hear: "I am trying to push myself to do things that scare me." "I am trying new things!" "I am putting myself out there." "I have always wanted to try __________, so I figured I should go for it." All of this adds to me feeling like I am not alone and that is so liberating.

I went on a chocolate tour with a friend and some of her friends this weekend. It was so much fun! Not only did I get to taste yummy treats, I got to see beautiful old buildings, and hear how my friend is going through some things that are so similar to me. It was so nice to hang out with other women and just chat. Our kids were not the focus of the conversations because we all had kids of various ages or no kids at all. I was out as myself, not a mother.

In between organizing my house and trying to make it look somewhat put together, I have been reading and reading and reading. I am on my 7th book. The more I read, the more I relax.