pity party

Just a little, tiny pity party, I promise.

The world of allergies just feels so lonely and isolated sometimes...parties are a pain because if you want to have cake and pizza, you must take your own. Being invited to dinner at someone's home, such as spontaneously on a Sunday afternoon, feels intrusive because I must first query every single ingredient that went into the meal, then determine which family members are safe to eat each thing, if any. (To expound, I am out of onion powder and wanted to buy more...but the Great Value "brand" at Wally World is unsafe due to cross contamination, as are many of their products...they did not have a name brand choice that I could find, so I still need onion powder until I go to another store; if my friends cooked with it, Miss C and possibly Baby J could not eat that food.) Dining out any place other than our handful of regular restaurants is a massive undertaking as we learn a new menu, talk to uninformed staff and question the chef multiple times on the different issues each person has. I can barely enjoy my food once that's over.

And it's not just food - it's cats and dogs, too. It keeps us from play dates and popping in at a friends' home, and ends regular visits when a new dog joins a family. I mean, I'm happy for them, but I feel so cheated and helpless to change things. Point in case: I rarely even visit my own parents because they have a dog that must be gated off into another room and their home is very small (he's technically my brother's, but he has no place for a large boxer). Because they have all hardwoods versus carpet, our once or twice a year visit is doable. But it's very difficult to keep young children away from a fascinating dog in close quarters, especially when one of the three kids is allowed in to play with the dog while the other two only watch. I'm just glad my mom and dad keep coming to see us often or we'd have serious withdrawals around here.

(Please don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about my parents, just using them for a neutral example.)

I find over time that I have to remind myself that nuts and soy and dairy and pets - and everything else on our lengthy allergy list - are very normal things for most people!

Okay, pity party over.
You may return to your regularly scheduled blog routine.

the big balance

This past week, as I filled out our "attendance" form to mail to the superintendent's office, I realized we had reached the halfway mark in our school year - exactly 90 days at the end of January. I find this remarkable, mostly because I have so much I want to do with Little B and it seems unattainable. It's tricky, though, as pressing too hard causes stress, distress and lack of willingness in him (and lots of random breaks keep things peaceful).

Little B learns easily and thoroughly, but he hates to be "forced" to do work – for example, a unit study on The Pirate Diary sounds so exciting to him, but by the third day he's read the book through several times and is resisting the next assignment or rereading a section he's forgotten, even if it's something that would normally excite him –because it's by "force" is what he tells me. And I'm beginning to think lap booking is just like "busy work" in his mind. (I'm starting to feel that way, too, at the moment.) We're giving it a shot, but I find that picking and choosing assignments from such unit studies based on our needs works best. Each day, I write his assignments and chores in a spiral notebook which he checks off as he goes. If he's not done by a certain time, no (play) computer time that day. And we just get back to what was incomplete the next day without a fuss – sometimes it's better not to draw attention to it.

I want to school year-round which is technically 3.5 days a week. We do mostly 4 day weeks so we can have a few days when John has time off. It's just a big balancing act. Also, I'm toying with rotating certain subjects throughout the year, perhaps 3 or 4 month cycles.

We've taken a slight Sonlight hiatus in which we did random social studies "lessons" since I was in need of a few books I had not ordered. They're on their way now, and we're both excited to pick it back up. Sometimes we do the suggested discussions, sometimes not – he has a tendency to read the books through in a day or two and can easily tell me what he's enjoying.

Language Arts is a breeze for him. His ability to write a story with limited errors, beautiful descriptions and accurate punctuation easily exceeds the 3rd grade level. Paragraph breaks are the most noticeable need. He has loved the silliness of Time 4 Learning's online L.A. program, though we had to move him to the 4th grade level in that this week...I should have done it long ago, and I'm not so certain we won't have to move it to 5th. He simply aces it all. I'm also considering a vocabulary book and a daily editing book; both look good and would provide variation (as long as I get at least 4^th grade levels).

Next week, Little B will finish the current book from Math U See. We have been reinforcing addition and subtraction, which went a few steps further than his 2^nd grade math for the purpose of mastery. Now I need to find the next level up. I am contemplating a "break" to work on skip counting and some flashcards before launching into multiplication…but I'm indecisive. Time 4 Learning has math as well, so I can use it as a supplement, but I'm not sure I want to mix up curriculum styles too much.

In science, I have amazing Lego Education set and a Little Professor's Dissection Kit that he is drooling to dig into. I just have not figured out how to work around the destruction of Baby J's toddlerhood. So, I ease my conscience with the science at Time 4 Learning, sans any print-outs or experiments. This has to change, and soon. Again, I find myself considering less of another big subject for a few months, in trade for more of this.

There is so much more I want to do with and for him. I cannot afford outside lessons or activities right now, and we're waiting until the move to join a homeschool group, so it's a bit lonely right now. In the meantime, we have a program for violin that we're slacking on, we could do online language lessons for free through our library, I think typing is becoming essential, Instant Challenges look awesome, and we've worked on manners and cooking and chores. (He's getting proficient at eggs, and he can prepare his own breakfast or lunch.) We have barely dabbled in cursive, so I'm digging into my options – Pencil Pete's Handwriting Programs look good to me, and I can use the print one for Miss C. They also have story starters that I think will keep Little B engaged.

Miss C is teaching herself to read and doing Kindergarten level work on that same Time 4 Learning program. She is so proud to do school like her big brother. I have so many things I want to do with her, but again, I find I lack the opportunities with her because of Baby J, though I realize this stage will flee soon enough.

So, I juggle. And I work to find a balance someplace in this grand act I'm performing.

**A little note about Time 4 Learning – it is an online curriculum that covers (for most grades K-8) Language Arts, Social Studies, Science and Math. I have had a customer service "issue" recently, and find their program (not curriculum) a bit outdated as well as not the most user- friendly. HOWEVER, it has been fun for the kids and they are very kid- and learning-friendly for what our needs have been. Would I recommend them? Probably. Would I shout it from the rooftop? Probably not. They are simply helping meet some needs as I find my way in this new world of Homeschooling…filling in the gaps, so to speak.

brokeness

In my last (very lengthy) post I told you about the Willow Tree figure my mom gave me the day Miss C was born. And how it broke when she dropped it. And how I cried when I came upon it weeks later.

It had broken in half just beneath the mother's arms. The irony of this struck me so hard -- thus the massive crying fest that ensued.

I did eventually glue it back together, and only if you look closely can you see a crack and a tiny missing chip in back. Again with the irony. I confess I hold this particular item very dear to my heart.



It is interesting that only in our brokeness before our Lord can we be made whole in Him.

miss c

Miss C.

Of my three kids, her birth, her story, her experience, her time with me – they are the strongest and most distinct. She is astoundingly unique in personality, a pixie of a girl who loves all things Littlest Pet Shop, works to be just as big as her older brother and yet tries her hardest to play with the little one as well. Still waters truly run deep with her as she will ponder and turn over many a thing in her mind that you had no idea she gave a second thought to; her contemplative remarks astonish us every time. She is artistic and has a soft, sweet voice (unless she's mad).

I speak of her birth, for reasons some of you already know or will recall now that I mention it. For those of you who do not know, you can read the story of her birth here.

The trauma of that day was only the beginning of a journey. I blogged for many months of the therapies we took her to, the progress, and finally the dismissal. Indeed, it was during this time that my humble little blog finally sprung to life. I am going to summarize a bit of that time for anyone who does not know the extent of her story:

I have a difficult time giving birth (yes, me, lover of all-natural, drug-free births) – all three of my babies got stuck in the same manner, shoulder dystocia. The difference with Miss C was that she was unusually large and therefore "extra stuck", resulting in nerve damage. At birth, she could not move her arm and her hand only flexed a little, though that was a sign of encouragement to the doctors. During the six months of physical therapy that followed we exercised her arm every single day, we took her to a surgeon for evaluations and follow ups, we read up on brachial plexus injuries and learned that the extent of damage could vary widely. In many cases, the nerve is torn completely and micro surgery can possibly help….for some children, one arm may never function properly, may always be shorter than the other, and may require multiple surgeries. For others, the function will return within days or weeks since the damage was more of a stretching or bruising of the nerve.

I recall specifically having an appointment with the surgeon to discuss her progress when she was about 3 months old. They did not look encouraged as her progress was slow and should have taken a clear turn, even recovered completely, if the injury was mild enough. Without further marked improvement, they were going to consider surgery. We sent emails to our friends detailing her needs, asking for prayer. That very week, the tide began to turn for her and a specific muscle began to flex, then another and another. At six months old, she was discharged with the directive to have a yearly evaluation done until she turned five. There are not words for the relief we felt.

As you see, this year marks something very large for her, and for me. In truth it makes my heart race and a bit of panic to set in. Her four year old evaluation showed a need for some work on her hand that we were to do at home. And we did do it. Just not as diligently as I imagined. She was willing. But I had Baby J always underfoot and on the go along with Little B going through some very hard times. So I simply did not get much done for her this time. I remember her as a new baby, so faithfully stretching and working on her little arm. This time was very different. We had her ring out wet washcloths in the tub, used large "tweezer-weezers" to pick up and move cotton balls, squeeze things with the forefinger and thumb. In normal, practical ways, we encourage her to use and stretch the weaker hand. But it does not feel like I did it often enough.

The lasting results of this injury are not ones you would see if you met her, but ones I see when I have her stretch out her hand and place both palms up and one does not lay flat, or if I ask her to raise both arms straight up in the air and one elbow does not go completely straight; it's her shoulder blade sticking out just a bit more than the other. Little things. So, as the time to schedule her evaluation approaches, I tremble a bit. I worry I have failed her here at the very end. I find myself intensely emotional.

I have a small collection of Willow Tree figures. The day Miss C was born, my mother gave me one I had wanted, of a mother holding her new baby, Angel of Mine. As she pulled out the bag that held it, the bag dropped. My figure dropped and broke. At that moment in time, everything was too much for me to think on it and I had her just set it aside, assuring her it was not a big deal. Once home, that bag was set in another room and temporarily forgotten. Weeks later, I dug it up and only then did I even remember the incident. And I bawled. And bawled some more.

But most of all, I remember that on that day five years ago, I was abundantly clear that my God has a plan for my little girl. Without a doubt, He wanted her here on earth for His purpose. And throughout that traumatic day, I had deep, abiding peace.

I see this plan slowly taking shape as she grows. Just a week ago, she was asking me seriously about Jesus being in our hearts. I spoke some of how He can be there and what He did for us, then suggested she talk to Him about it, think about what it means. She told me it was important to consider. He is moving in her heart.

Happy birthday to my special girl.

tea party and other fun trivia

In two days my sweet Miss C turns five...did you hear that!? FIVE! I'm not sure how this came to be, but she assures me that under no circumstance can I convince her to go back to four. Sigh.

Truly, I love watching her change and grow and learn and live and delight. I am pleased to see her arriving at five years old. Hopefully, in two day's time I will manage to find the right words to share what is on my heart about her. And if not, it will simply get done late.

For her party this year, we went all-out girly and had a "Fancy Nancy" Tea Party (inspired, not themed). Here she is at the end of a long day, hair skewered, posing with her presents (we took about 8 or 9 pictures, this being one of the last...they were funny to watch! And of course, the best one is on my camera phone, not available for posting.)

I ran into a bit of a stress-act that day since John had worked past midnight the previous two nights which limited the help he could offer, Little B had a party to go do that morning, I had not finished buying food for the party, the icing wasn't made, the floor still needed mopping, the streamers were not done, and I had visions of perfection.

Perfection did not happen. It did get done, however, once reinforcements arrived...and fun reigned. I found getting ready with friends helping to be WAY more fun and so much easier. I think next time I'll ask a friend to come help beforehand and their kid can keep my kid busy. It's handy that my friends' kids are my kids' friends.

I also believe in simple parties - Miss C had two guests and two grandmas (we kicked out all the dads, brothers and grandpas). Less clean up, fewer gifts, more personal time. I love it. And with all the grandness she deserved!

There was an ice cream pinata filled with stickers, bubbles, rings, bracelets, etc. (I loathe the $10 bags of candy that isn't yummy and mostly gets tossed out anyway); there was an old-fashioned pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey; there was make-up and nail polish; and of course there was a fancy tea party (complete with Country Time Pink Lemonade instead of tea).

Here, I present you with my fabulous idea for all the old formals that needed purging from my attic: chair covers.

And for a bit of trivia:
That highly out-dated blue dress a the end of the table, the one that Miss C is sitting on above...that was my Senior Prom dress...and my prom date was none other than the man I married! I SO did not see that coming on that long ago (rainy, awkward) evening. The dress was a bridesmaid dress reworked by a friend's talented mom. And while it was not so snazzy, I had visions of Cinderella, I really did (yes, at 18 years old...hush). Poofy sleeves, shimmery blue...sigh. (My daughter had the same vision when she saw it for the first time - and I didn't have to make the suggestion!) Fast forward a few years and my then-prom-date, now serious relationship/fiance (don't remember if this was before or after our engagement) boldly tells me he didn't like that blue dress from prom and I'd have looked better in black (that was SO not the point, though...and Cinderella didn't wear black, right?). When we were planning our wedding, I made him preview my wedding dress because I told him there was no way he'd tell me a decade later that he didn't really like it. (He claimed to like it then, and so far he has not disputed that....my very own Prince Charming.)

loveliness

Early this week had some intense and stressful hours, but in contrast, I love a day full of happy surprises!

As I went to bed too late last night, I fully expected to have the horrible grogginess that usually awaits when Baby J demands to get up and greet his Daddy who is trying to get ready for work. Instead, I felt a bit more refreshed than usual (perhaps the opposite of a hangover from having a LOT of extra sleep the night before?).

Today, I needed to go to the store and purchase not one, not two, but three birthday gifts for Saturday - only one is for my daughter, the other two for friends of Little B. Of course, having Miss C in tow, I hesitate to shop for her since she is acutely aware of all things snuck into hiding in, on, and under buggies. Crazy pixie of a girl. Instead, Little B puked after breakfast (boo!). BUT...that just meant I put off the trip (hooray!). The bright side here is that he's able to haul himself to the toilet versus being held the entire time and puking all over me as Baby J did last Saturday.

Then, it got better - he didn't throw up any more at all, no sirree bob. He began to feel better and better. He even did some of his school work that I assigned. I haven't pushed the rest, but that moment is imminent (I'm on the computer and, well, he has to use it to do the rest of his work or there is no 39 Clues gaming time). I still didn't go to the store because I was uncertain of what to expect.

Today I also planned to decorate for Miss C's Fancy Nancy Tea Party that is scheduled for Saturday afternoon - that is not easy with a 2 year old underfoot. But, the more I do now, the less for last minute, right? I got a glittery set of letters spelling out "Tea Party" made and hung (I could fit limited letters...those were her preference). Paper chains are in progress, as are streamers and a vase of lollipops and paper flowers and a multitude of other "fancy accessories" that are required.

My husband called with word that it will be at the very least just over 2 months (and likely even longer) before we have need to move. I love extra time. I will use it to continue purging and preparing and being glad that I KNOW I will not have to move before April. (I really hate packing and moving...think I've mentioned that before...) Maybe, just maybe I'll get brave enough to have a garage sale when the weather warms a bit more. (I also have tentative plans for craigslist, but I'm a big chicken.)

A few minutes ago, I opened an unexpected envelope with a long overdue refund from Little B's many rounds of therapy. I expected a very tiny check. It was a very large check. I actually gasped so loudly my son asked what was wrong.

But my most favorite part of the day: I got a phone call from a very dear friend of many, many years...Little B was named for his family. He was calling to tell me his wife is expecting their first baby! I could not stop smiling. My heart is so happy! Life is good.

heart and soul

Remember in my delurking post where I mentioned that I bear my heart and soul on my blog? This is one of those.

I probably talked about this once upon a time, but as time goes on, the issue goes deeper. It's facebook. I know, I know, I could just unsubscribe to it, but I don't think that's the answer here.

See, I got on there thinking I'd "friend" a few of my "real" friends and let well enough alone. I was fine. Then I had a friend-frenzy and wondered why I didn't have enough friends. I mean, seriously, it was kinda silly. (You can laugh here...) I had a friend who got on long after me and racked up like 300 friends in a week or two. I was astounded. I still sit at 165. Happily. But, as her number surpassed my then 140ish (?) or so friends, I frantically dug around other people's lists to see who I knew well enough to want to friend. Like I said, feel free to laugh. Those days are long lost in the dust.

The thing is, I have found people I love dearly whom I had not spoken to in a decade or more. My heart is deep with those people. I have been in touch with them and found solace and love and healing and joy in that contact. Other friendships have grown into a bigger place in my heart. In that, facebook has been a wonder for me. There are more faces I hope to find some day. I love knowing how someone I care about is doing. It matters to me. Really matters. Being back in touch brings me so much joy.

Then, there are the myriad of names and faces I barely knew and hardly remember now. I could care less if they call me friend on this facebook thingy. It matters very little because they have never had a part of my heart or if they edged in on it, lost it long ago. Those names, I often just hide because, well, it matters not to me. (Then I feel bad when something pops up and I hear about it randomly and I think, maybe I should have been keeping tabs? Argh!)

And lastly are those names that while they are in my heart or have been once upon a time, they did not lose the edge, I still care deeply, and I'm very happy to have found them on facebook, but my heart feels so. . .so. . .help me with a word, here, people:

These are the friendships that shattered in youth, the lost flickers of love, the ones whose paths may not have taken the best turns, but still they matter to me. Waaaay deep down. I know, because when I find them, or they find me, I look to see what their lives are now - I care - then I agonize and ponder for a week or two over decisions long made, stands taken, and choices they have clearly traveled, even consequences they are facing. I ache with them, or for them, whatever the case may be. I still love these people of my heart. I know it is my opportunity to pray for them as well. And I believe that is part of the purpose in "seeing" them once more. I just need to remember that more often.

The thing is, I feel tired. Bone weary.
Tired of being pulled so many ways - up, down, all around - by these many faces on the book of internet connectivity. My heart is tired of aching, wondering and working to be appropriate. My mind is tired of trying to remember that any of those people on my "friend list" will be able to see any of my "status updates" at any given time. It's been a really long year in our home. This just feels like one more "thing." I wish I could delete the people I don't care enough about to bother making a comment, those that can't bother to be nice to me (oh, and there's the occasional "ignoring" of people whom I simply cannot tolerate to be in contact with - agony!), and simply not worry over propriety when I feel the need to check on someone.

In all, I find it peculiar to be in touch with so many facets of my life at one time. These are the fabric of my soul, the people who make up bits and pieces of who I have become and am still becoming.





(By the way, any of you who are my regular commenters, I consider my friend - and I would gladly call you so on facebook - and a few of you I do already.)