land of living migraines

There is this one blue and white (with a bit of sickly yellow) multi-purpose store that can change the most beautiful day into a low-price living migraine for me.  I am rarely to be found at one of these stores for this reason, but once in a while it just has what I need and it kills me to admit it.  A half hour in the confines of this fluorescent pit and the nausea begins, the head pressure builds, the knots in my neck and shoulder begin to cramp, my eyes begin to lose focus and all decision making flies out the window.  I hit a wall.  Those walls double the time it takes me to finish my errand and everyone who was forced to go with me is miserable.  High-functioning mama becomes frantic, crabby, exasperated, low-functioning mama.

(I do, however, love my better-lit, nicely-staffed, more warmly decorated (think: red) multi-purpose store.  It is logical, higher quality, still kindly-priced and most importantly: migraine-free.)

hope for things not yet seen

I took Miss C to a new allergist today. . .

I love:
the time he took
the answers he gave
the questions he asked
the open-minded attitude he had
the appreciation for our holistic efforts he showed

We did the traditional allergy skin test.  And yes, she still has her allergies.  But I came away with a new understanding and insights of some recent changes in her reactions.  It's possible she is developing a tolerance to milk baked into products and some of her tree nut allergies didn't show up.  That said, there is at least one new nut, but he said those can cycle a bit, so we're just biding our time with it.  We have to avoid them all still anyway.  The milk one we can test further some day, but she didn't want to do that yet.  I decided that since it's her body and her blood we'd have to draw, she got to make the call.  She didn't want to be messed with any more than she had been - roughly 60 skin pricks on her arms.

We did discover a multitude of seasonal allergies, which the previous doctor never took the time to ask about or test for, passing them off as not bad enough to check.  Knowing this will help me to stay on top of her sniffly, red nose and the circles under her eyes.

Her saddest moment came when they told her she is allergic to horses.  On the way home she suddenly blurted out that she was so sad because she wanted to have horses when she grows up.  Then she promptly burst into tears.  I almost pulled off the highway to hug on her, but traffic was pretty heavy.  I made up for it later.

The most reassuring part of my visit is that I have been praying for a doctor who would dig deeper and help me find ways to help her - not just be passive.  This is that doctor.  He has been pursuing Integrative Medicine with Dr. Andrew Weil.  I am in awe.  We conversed for much longer than any doctor visit I've been to.  His staff and the other doctor in his practice do not yet know, so it's hush-hush for now.  I came away with armed with information on natural supplements to try for my migraines, detoxing my daughter's liver, my husband's chronic hives (as well as an anti-inflammatory diet for the same thing), and more.  I need to dig through the notes and remember which thing is for which family member.  We were cared for.  And given hope.

dreams

I'm feeling ready to stretch my wings and catch a few dreams - a personal stretch in who I am and where I want to go, with dreams of my own secret self, though nothing large or impressive.

I do not profess to have any kind of wonderful writing skills - but I enjoy it anyway.  And I aspire to be better at it.  I love writing more than speaking for a million and one reasons (if you know me in person, you will realize I am quite a babbler in spite of this statement).  Mostly, I love that I can tweak, adjust, change, erase, scratch through, delete, and rewrite until what I am truly thinking is almost correct on the paper (or computer) in front of me.  It gives me time to straighten out the jumble of words that fall over each other in spoken form.  I'm not convinced writing can be completely perfect either, but once in a while something I've written is satisfying enough that I derive a thrill from re-reading it a few more times (until I find that awful hidden typo. . . ), or knowing when I send an email or letter I've carefully worded each part of it to express exactly what I wanted to say.

I will make an effort to ramble here a bit more if for no other reason than a little writing practice in the coming weeks and months.  I have no idea what that might mean for my little bloggy world, but if it gives me an outlet to scritch-scratch, so be it.  I need to drop some inhibitions, push myself out of my comfort zone.

Here is a little secret: I have decided that instead of the running sneakers I have been thinking about, I will spend my hard saved dollars on a small writing class.  If I'm lucky, I'll save enough later for another one.
Just because I want to.
And I always have.
And now I can.
For me.

not a born juggler

There is is a large denomination one mile from our home that has a vast array of community-welcoming activities.  On some of these, I have mixed feelings about how much it meets a spiritual need.  But there are many others that I believe serve a useful purpose for drawing the hearts in this town.

One of these is AWANAS - this is the second year we have had Little B and Miss C in Awanas, and they are blessed by the consistent pursuit of memorizing verses, forming new friendships, and finding leaders who care about them in personal ways.  I am blessed as an indirect result of this.  A few weeks ago, we allowed Baby J to start going to their Cubbies program since he is finally staying in his own class on Sundays and typically staying in his own bed at night (our two requirements for joining Cubbies).  He could seriously pop the proverbial buttons with all that pride!  The one downside to Baby J going now is that we have to stay on campus, unable to go out on a mini-date or make a grocery run.  And that means entertaining Bitsy as well.  But, we're making do.

Another opportunity they offer is Karate.  I have found multiple reasons to like this.  First, the men and women in charge speak English.  I mean absolutely NO disrespect to the amazing instructors in traditional programs - I know they work hard and do a fabulous job.  But I do not do well deciphering heavy accents, which I hear a lot in do jos.  Next, they close in prayer.  They might open in prayer, too, but in our 4 free classes so far, I'm not sure we've actually been there right in the beginning (ahem).  Third, the atmosphere is clearly about character training and good exercise, but there seems to be a slight balance to the strict regimen I've seen elsewhere - they really like the kids in each class and it shows.  I love that this is an opportunity for character training - it makes my day!  I also love the most amazing budget-friendly pricing of their karate school - there is not way we could do this any other way. There are two times available on each of the two nights, which helps make it more convenient as well.
I do not, however, like juggling that many children back and forth three nights a week to various activities.  I am just not that mom.

We told Miss C she could do the karate program.  But when they said we get 6 free classes to make sure she loves it first, well, we took them up on it.  After the first 3, we all got nasty colds, so our pretty faces were not in class for a couple weeks.  I took her back Tuesday night while John took Little B to his basketball practice (just one more thing to juggle this season - oi! - and he gets to do karate when basketball is over).  Tonight, I simply could not get my ducks in a row and asked that she go back next week for her last free classes.  She's upset.  I understand.  But there is this little matter of loving to have her friend from up the street to play in the late afternoon and evening time (said friend was still here eating homemade pizza before we realized we just were running too late).  And after a day of driving and doctors and half naps and not enough night sleep - well, surely you understand....

The thing is - my daughter needs an outlet like this for exercise and structure.  It will be so very good for her.    And I know Little B loves it and wants to do it also.  But Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday are all suddenly nights that make dinner feel impossible (yes, I need to get the crock pot in better rotation), bedtimes get later, and mommy feel like juggling the little ones is maybe not worth it (Miss C is not able to let me leave during karate at this time....think impatient 1 and 4 year olds).  That's pretty much half the week, people!  And I feel passionate about not being the mom who has her kids in so many activities that there is not time for friends on the street or nearby.  (A pet peeve of mine - a big one!)

So, since I am not born a juggler, I am having to find a method to the madness right now.  I know it will come.  I was hoping Miss C would wait for basketball season to end and just sign up with Little B to keep our lives simple, but that does not seem to be headed in my favor.

Arranging dinner time better - and decent dinners, not throw together dinners - is my first step.  Figuring how to return a neighbor girl to her home in time for us to leave when I have no contact for the non-English speaking mom and the brother is somewhere with the boys down the street and I have 3 kids that have to walk up the hill and back....might not be so simple.  Having John home in time to do karate duty - also not a guarantee.  Somewhere, there must be a way, though.

Hey, at least Baby J can buckle his own seat belt finally.  Definitely a step in the right direction!

sanctify this food we pray

I grew up in a home where praying freely, calling on the Lord's name openly, thanking Him for all things were a commonplace occurrence- as common as washing one's hands when preparing food.

Praying before meals was not a religious or ritualistic experience, rather a time to contact the One we loved the most.  Thanking him for the food was a simple yet pointed matter.  Sanctifying the food was equally so.  I accepted each of these practices as a matter of course and also embraced them with understanding and appreciation for myself.  Except this little matter of sanctifying the food.  That, I did not get.  Yes, I wanted it to nourish my body for His purpose, but. . . uh?  To sanctify something is to set it apart.  Really, it's just food, and while I'm hopeful it's not spoiled, that's rarely a real concern of mine.  And so it went, this not making much of sanctifying the food.

Until very recently when it slowly dawned on me just how serious a matter it really is. . . . . .


If you are at all in tune with things related to healthy eating, organic foods, what animals are fed versus what they should eat, pesticides, antibiotics, living conditions of the animals, genetically modifying our produce. . . . the list goes on and on here - then you will at least begin to understand what I speak of.  I, for one, quite simply do not have the financial means to purchase all foods organic and eat the way I would love to.  I accept the argument that you can spend your money on organic foods or you can spend your money on hospital bills later.  I get that - very much so.  But that still leaves the need for the actual cash flow to get it to your table.

In my years of researching and seeking to understand food allergies better, I have come across more than one article about the connection between genetically modified foods and the dramatic increase in allergies over the past 15 or so years.  I have consistently found this alarming in levels I don't have words for.  And buying groceries for my family has become an extremely stressful task.  Now, not only am I trying to accommodate safety with each food purchase, all the way down to potential cross-contamination for fear of my daughter's life - I am also plagued with the desire and desperation to choose as much organic food as I possibly can to prevent further allergies from flaring up and simply be healthier.  My budget just doesn't cover that much organic food.  It can't feed six of us that way no matter how I've tried.  I do what I can and buy some of it organic and some of it not.  It's the best I can do.  (If you see someone circling the meat department three times before deciding which meat to buy on any given week, that might be me. . .)

Food allergies get in the way of normal life: eating with friends on Sunday afternoons, and homeschool parties, friend's birthdays, .  I have prayed over this matter of my family's allergies more times than I can begin to recount to you. . .  about them, for them, for healing, for safety. . .  And along the way, it occurred to me that I need to pray for the sanctifying of the food.  For He is able to cover all the things I cannot, as well as the things I can.  He is able to set the food apart, help it nourish our bodies, and keep it from further damaging them.  He cares about this even more than I do - and wants my children to grow into men and women of God who can serve Him and love Him.  Will he heal my daughter, son, husband?  I don't know.  I will pray for it, believing.  If He chooses not to, I will accept that and be thankful.  But along the way, I find that I pray about the food while I shop, while I cook, while I serve a meal....


**There are many, many resources relating to food allergies and GMOs and other similar topics.  Choosing just one or two for my posting was difficult and silly in some ways - a simple search on Google popped up more than I wanted to see.  One of them even showed a person allergic to the GMO itself - with symptoms identical to those my husband has had for 15 years (chronic hives).  I have placed a few links here, but further reading is easily available should you desire it. . . .


Seeds of Deception
("The UK is one of the few countries that conducts a yearly evaluation of food allergies. In March 1999, researchers at the York Laboratory were alarmed to discover that reactions to soy had skyrocketed by 50% over the previous year. Genetically modified soy had recently entered the UK from US imports and the soy used in the study was largely GM. John Graham, spokesman for the York laboratory, said, “We believe this raises serious new questions about the safety of GM foods.”")



GMO Food Allergies
("To my surprise, I discovered that my sister was having the same problem of constantly breaking out in hives. After extensive allergy testing, her doctor told her it was from genetically modified corn. It has been proven that the tendency for allergies is inherited. So, anytime she (or I) eat anything with genetically modified corn or corn derivatives in it, we break out in hives.")


Gentically Modified Foods Unsafe
("Another study verified that GM soybeans contain an IgE-binding allergenic protein not found in nonGM soy controls, and that one of eight subjects who showed a skin-prick allergic reaction to GM soy had no reaction to nonGM soy.9 Although the sample size is small, the implication that certain people react only to GM soy is huge.")

a smattering of things

A somewhat "normal" balance and rhythm are starting to fall into place for us.  I've been exercising to let go and let some of our school days be less rather than more - yes, we still need the "more" to an extent, but right now I'm feeling that there is a season for everything, and this is a season for "less."  Perhaps in the new year we will find the energy to tackle "more" again.  Each week can look vastly different in our little world.

I did pursue the coaching with 7sisters and it has gone very well.  I am encouraged, guided, prayed for, and given opportunities to ask, consider and decide.  I can say that I highly recommend this experience for anyone who is adjusting things in their homeschool or related situation.  Among many other things, I have learned that my "ideal" shows my heart, and my "good enough" is truly good enough.  I don't have to get everything crammed into every day.

And the light for Little B - it never ceases to amaze me how content my son has become.  The "issues" we get are so very small compared to any other time in his life that I am blown away.  God answered my desperate pleas with grandeur and I feel immense relief and unceasing thanks and praise....(that said, I need to write some sentences 100 times as punishment: "I will never deliberately let Little B have dairy again in my lifetime."  Suffice it to say that was a one-day experiment gone badly astray and lasted way more than one day.  Keeping him dairy free makes for a much happier family life in every way!)

I still feel a deep and overwhelming sense of thankfulness every time we pull onto our street, and it deepens as I park on the driveway and come into my home.  I do not take for granted the cozy warm feeling and the space to spread out and school in any corner or read on a real couch, run in a massive back yard.  These things foster hope and peace in my soul.

In the past couple of weeks, since Bitsy turned one, Baby J and I have both had birthdays.  Nothing like feeling a little older and moving onward.  I'm beginning to sense that I will survive this thing called life and tackling it head on is a sure fire way to succeed.  The years I've piddled on this little blog have certainly documented some interesting seasons of my life.  It has me thinking and pondering some things.  I'm not even sure if I have words to share those thoughts, but perhaps they will gel a bit more in the months to come.

Now I must tend a bit of laziness in someone's lessons for the day. . .

one

Bitsy is one today.  Her sweet babyness is wisping into toddlerhood far faster than I am ready for.  This past week she's begun showing some temper - and it cracks me up!  As a mom of four, I've been down these roads enough that I am no longer bothered by toddler tantrums and know they will come and go and be done eventually.  The other day I secretly watched her get very angry at something she had trouble grabbing . . .  she clenched her tiny fists, ducked her dark silky head and let a piercing wail rip through the house until her cheeks turned red, then stopped, probably needing some air.  I guess she decided that was all the effort it was worth and after one more half-hearted attempt at the task, she moved on.

I can barely grasp that it has been a full year since I first held my newborn girl in my arms.  And I am still wrapping my heart and mind around the fact that never again will I hold my own child in their first hours of life - those days are now over.  I know I have a lot of years to enjoy ahead of me, but an era has ended and I pause, considering that no matter how hard I want to savor the moments and love the sweet breathing of a tiny person, holding the softest of skin against me, the moments are truly fleeting and quickly slip away.

Thankfully, there are still many baby-like moments ahead as my sweet Bitsy transitions into this new stage of life.  For today, I am thankful that she is mine, safely ensconced in this family who thinks she hung the moon.