The other night I was "talking" to a friend on Facebook, someone who had been a huge support through my cancer battle. As we were about to sign off, he said "you rock. You're my role model". I responded with "good Lord, why would I be your role model? I'm not someone to look up to!" He replied: "With God's help, you told cancer to screw off". I answered with: "looking back, I think I was just a big cry baby." He said: "yeah, well......lol" And of course my mind started whirling with doubts: Did he really think I was a cry baby? Was he just teasing? Did other people think I'd been a cry baby more than I'd been tough? Did people talk about how much of a whiner I was? And on my brain went. Never mind that the whole thing started with him telling me I was his role model.
Why was I taking one joke and getting so insecure? And why did it matter at all?? Why did I care what people thought of how I handled the cancer fight? It shouldn't matter in the least. I told myself that sometimes I was strong and some days I was weak. Some days I had faith and some days I had none. Some days I wore a big smile and others I cried my eyes out. Over that two year battle, there was no "one" emotion, so single way of acting. It was up and down, left and right, upside down and inside out. But the main thing was the outcome, right? Why is that we're expected to kick cancer's butt AND do it with a huge smile planted on our face the whole time?
Well, we're not. That's an expectation I have of myself. I remember so many times saying to Matt that I wanted him and his family to be proud of how I handled things. I probably said it more than "I hate cancer". And I just as clearly remember the odd look he would give me for saying it. It made no sense to him, and I couldn't explain it. And I'm not sure I can now. Other than I wanted him to be able to say "I'm so proud of how tough my wife was. How strong she was through the fight. How she never gave up."
Unfortunately I don't think he can say that and, yes, it bothers me. Looking back, I don't think I was all that tough or strong. And there were SEVERAL times I tried to give up. Does he care about that? NO! Not at all! Do I? I hate to admit it, but yes. So, I've sworn that if I faced something similar again, I'd be even tougher. Even stronger.
We've been going through some challenges and I find myself doing the same thing. Saying I want him to be proud of me, that I want him to think I'm tough. And I get the same strange look each time I say it. And as I write this, I see how that need is sapping my energy to actually fight the fight. Because I put up such a front, one that's impossible to carry for long and I inadvertently end up falling apart. Probably worse than if I had just stopped pretending. Well, not probably...definitely.
So, what's the lesson from all this? That I shouldn't care so much about how people view me during a struggle. I should worry more about the actual struggle. That I need to take the mental energy I'm wasting and put it towards the important things. And by making this change, I'll end up having fewer "lows" in this roller coaster called life. Now let's see if I can just actually make that change. Fingers and toes crossed.
Love to you all.
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Missing the bus
When I was pregnant with Alex, I had a job and I totally planned on staying at that job after he was born. I had no desire to be a stay at home mom - nothing against stay at home moms. I just thought that I would miss the social interaction of the workplace. Until a few people close to me told me repeatedly that I would change my mind....and that's what happened. I began secretly longing to stay home with my baby. I knew it wasn't financially feasible, but I prayed about it every night.
Alex was born, we picked out a day care and made it there all of three days. With his reflux, he was just to sick to be under someone else's care and I was getting no sleep so I was in no condition to work. So, I got to be a stay at home mother for seven months. Now, maybe it wasn't the most ideal of situations but God did answer my prayer. And I learned I was right the first time - I wasn't meant to stay at home and neither was Alex. I needed to be at work and he needed to be at day care. So, when he stopped projectile vomiting at seven months, that's what we did. And I never regretted it. I knew it was the right thing for us both.
The only thing that stuck in the back of my mind was when he started Kindergarten. And how badly I wanted to be there to greet him at the bus. Again, I couldn't figure it out in my head, so I prayed about it. It became this big desire in my heart that I couldn't ignore. Other moms told me about how their kids would tell them all about their days right when they get off the bus. But if you wait until later, the day will be behind them and they won't share as much.
With how much I was working from home, I figured my boss would have no problem letting me meet the bus and then do more work when I got home. It seemed like the perfect plan. I was getting excited. I thought God had answered my prayers. All I had to do was wait for my boss to finally be in town so I could ask him face to face. Which happened today. And the craziest thing happened - he said no. No to meeting the bus. And no to anymore working from home, effective this week.
It was like someone kicked me in the stomach. It wasn't until that moment that I realized how desperately I wanted him to say yes. How I had built it in my mind as the perfect scenario. And how badly I wanted to crawl under my chair and cry. I just looked at him, said okay, and went back to my cubicle. And as much as I shouldn't write this, I started doubting God. I asked why He had let this happen. I'd had a great thing going and this would have just made it perfect. I didn't think it was asking too much. I was pretty ticked off with Him, to be honest.
Then I looked over at a sign hanging on my wall that I'd gotten from a friend when trying to get pregnant. And it says "Three answers God may give: 1. Yes 2. Not yet 3. I have something better in mind. So, as hard as it is today, I'm trying to believe that it's number two - not yet. Maybe I won't meet the bus next week or next month or even this year. But I'll keep praying that He finds a way to make it happen. In the meantime, don't mind me if you see me crying under a chair somewhere. 😉
P.S. I know plenty of moms don't get to meet the bus and I'm being a big old whiny crybaby, so please forget all you just read. Thanks! 😃😃😃
Alex was born, we picked out a day care and made it there all of three days. With his reflux, he was just to sick to be under someone else's care and I was getting no sleep so I was in no condition to work. So, I got to be a stay at home mother for seven months. Now, maybe it wasn't the most ideal of situations but God did answer my prayer. And I learned I was right the first time - I wasn't meant to stay at home and neither was Alex. I needed to be at work and he needed to be at day care. So, when he stopped projectile vomiting at seven months, that's what we did. And I never regretted it. I knew it was the right thing for us both.
The only thing that stuck in the back of my mind was when he started Kindergarten. And how badly I wanted to be there to greet him at the bus. Again, I couldn't figure it out in my head, so I prayed about it. It became this big desire in my heart that I couldn't ignore. Other moms told me about how their kids would tell them all about their days right when they get off the bus. But if you wait until later, the day will be behind them and they won't share as much.
With how much I was working from home, I figured my boss would have no problem letting me meet the bus and then do more work when I got home. It seemed like the perfect plan. I was getting excited. I thought God had answered my prayers. All I had to do was wait for my boss to finally be in town so I could ask him face to face. Which happened today. And the craziest thing happened - he said no. No to meeting the bus. And no to anymore working from home, effective this week.
It was like someone kicked me in the stomach. It wasn't until that moment that I realized how desperately I wanted him to say yes. How I had built it in my mind as the perfect scenario. And how badly I wanted to crawl under my chair and cry. I just looked at him, said okay, and went back to my cubicle. And as much as I shouldn't write this, I started doubting God. I asked why He had let this happen. I'd had a great thing going and this would have just made it perfect. I didn't think it was asking too much. I was pretty ticked off with Him, to be honest.
Then I looked over at a sign hanging on my wall that I'd gotten from a friend when trying to get pregnant. And it says "Three answers God may give: 1. Yes 2. Not yet 3. I have something better in mind. So, as hard as it is today, I'm trying to believe that it's number two - not yet. Maybe I won't meet the bus next week or next month or even this year. But I'll keep praying that He finds a way to make it happen. In the meantime, don't mind me if you see me crying under a chair somewhere. 😉
P.S. I know plenty of moms don't get to meet the bus and I'm being a big old whiny crybaby, so please forget all you just read. Thanks! 😃😃😃
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Paying it back
A little over a month ago, I was with Alex at a birthday party for one of his friends. It was the same day that Matt went to the doctor to find out about his knee, in fact he was there at the exact same time. I was a bundle of nerves; I was praying that God would give us good news but deep inside I was imagining the worst. What if he needed surgery? What would we do then? And I didn't recognize any of the parents at the party, so there was no one to talk to to take my mind off things. Until I looked around and saw the great-grandfather of one of the other little boys. I'd seen him around before, but didn't know what the situation was and why he was the one always accompanying the boy and his sister.
Mostly to take my mind off things, I went over to chat with him. And after about ten minutes, I realized it was a total God thing that he was there. Because his life story completely made me realize how blessed I was. Even if Mattt needed surgery and we lost his income for months, it was not 1/10 of what this man had been through. I learned that he was helping to raise his great-grandchildren because their mother had died of a drug overdose and their father is currently a drug addict and not really in the picture. The grandmother has physical custody, but has to still work to provide for the children, so this gentleman takes care of them when they are not in school. At 86 years old. Juggling a five and seven year old. When he should just be hanging out enjoying the last phase of his life.
I could go on and on about this family's story, but what struck me most that day was the little girl. And how she was doing everything in her power to get my attention. From what I learned, she was old enough when her mother passed away to remember her. And miss her. So, according to the great-grandfather, she just longs for the attention of a young lady (I thanked him for putting me in that category). That's when I realized that God put this man in my path for two reasons. The first to help me to stay calm that day, which he did perfectly. And the second was to do what I could to help this family. So, I gave him my number and told him I'd love to have the kids over to our neighborhood pool for a play date. I've had so many people in my life be there for me, ones that weren't obligated, and I realized it was my turn to give back.
It took awhile to make it happen (the 5 year old cut his arm pretty badly and couldn't get it wet for a month) but this past week we finally had that play date. And my heart is still overflowing from the experience. Alex and the boy had a great time playing together, but more importantly this little girl got some much needed female attention. She kept calling out "Miss Vicki, watch this, Miss Vicki, see this." So many times that the great-grandfather apologized on her behalf. I told him to stop apologizing because she was the reason I was there. That God put her in my path to help. And that I wanted to help. And that I planned on helping.
By the end of the two hours we spent together, she had slipped once and called me Aunt Vicki and I just let it go. And before we said our goodbyes, she and I had planned a girls' outing to the mall and for pedicures. And it's one date that I absolutely will not miss out on. I feel like it's a relationship that God has tasked me with and one that I'm more than happy to cultivate. And in all honesty, I feel proud that He felt me worthy of being there for this little girl. I hope I can make Him proud.
So, just remember, the people that we meet may be important for one of three reasons: they may be there to help us, they may be there to be helped BY us or it might just be a little bit of both. And each set is equally important. It's just figuring out which it is than can be the rough part. Luckily God made this one pretty clear.
Mostly to take my mind off things, I went over to chat with him. And after about ten minutes, I realized it was a total God thing that he was there. Because his life story completely made me realize how blessed I was. Even if Mattt needed surgery and we lost his income for months, it was not 1/10 of what this man had been through. I learned that he was helping to raise his great-grandchildren because their mother had died of a drug overdose and their father is currently a drug addict and not really in the picture. The grandmother has physical custody, but has to still work to provide for the children, so this gentleman takes care of them when they are not in school. At 86 years old. Juggling a five and seven year old. When he should just be hanging out enjoying the last phase of his life.
I could go on and on about this family's story, but what struck me most that day was the little girl. And how she was doing everything in her power to get my attention. From what I learned, she was old enough when her mother passed away to remember her. And miss her. So, according to the great-grandfather, she just longs for the attention of a young lady (I thanked him for putting me in that category). That's when I realized that God put this man in my path for two reasons. The first to help me to stay calm that day, which he did perfectly. And the second was to do what I could to help this family. So, I gave him my number and told him I'd love to have the kids over to our neighborhood pool for a play date. I've had so many people in my life be there for me, ones that weren't obligated, and I realized it was my turn to give back.
It took awhile to make it happen (the 5 year old cut his arm pretty badly and couldn't get it wet for a month) but this past week we finally had that play date. And my heart is still overflowing from the experience. Alex and the boy had a great time playing together, but more importantly this little girl got some much needed female attention. She kept calling out "Miss Vicki, watch this, Miss Vicki, see this." So many times that the great-grandfather apologized on her behalf. I told him to stop apologizing because she was the reason I was there. That God put her in my path to help. And that I wanted to help. And that I planned on helping.
By the end of the two hours we spent together, she had slipped once and called me Aunt Vicki and I just let it go. And before we said our goodbyes, she and I had planned a girls' outing to the mall and for pedicures. And it's one date that I absolutely will not miss out on. I feel like it's a relationship that God has tasked me with and one that I'm more than happy to cultivate. And in all honesty, I feel proud that He felt me worthy of being there for this little girl. I hope I can make Him proud.
So, just remember, the people that we meet may be important for one of three reasons: they may be there to help us, they may be there to be helped BY us or it might just be a little bit of both. And each set is equally important. It's just figuring out which it is than can be the rough part. Luckily God made this one pretty clear.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Kindergarten teacher
Almost from the time Alex was born it's like the world has been prepping him for kindergarten. Kind of like when I was growing up, the world was prepping me for college. But these days, you have to start a lot earlier I guess. I was told how important it was to get him into the right preschool so they would get him prepped for "real school". Then on the first day of pre-K, I was told by his teacher "they won't let him get away with that in Kindergarten." I looked at her with shock and thought "that is almost a year away." It was like he was supposed to be ready, even though I thought the point of pre-K was to prepare him. Guess I was wrong....
Along with this prepping him for Kindergarten, I was told about "writing the letter". This was a letter that I should write that explained his personality, his behavior, sord of like an 'introduction to Alex'. I was told this was super important because it would help him get the right Kindergarten teacher. From the time he was about 3 1/2, I was mentally preparing this letter in my head. I bought into how important it was because he is so hyper and let's be honest - there is no other child quite like Alex. I love him more than life itself, but even I know he is quite a handful. And it takes a certain person to be able to handle his energy and keep him in line. So, definitely I had to write that letter.
Even with all this 'prepping', I didn't find out about Kindergarten registration until about two weeks beforehand. And it was going to take place one day after we were returning from vacation. So, I started filling out forms, getting copies made, retrieving his social security card and birth certificate from the safe deposit box (because those things can not be kept in a safe - yes, Matt, I am poking fun at you). I had my pile all ready for when we got back from Florida. I was proud of myself for being uber-organized.
The day of registration went fine, other than Alex being super shy and not wanting to enter the building. But we got through it. I'd remembered every form, every proof of residency, every check I'd needed to write. Or so I thought....
When I got home, I talked to one of my best friends and she asked if I had remembered to turn in "the letter" with my forms. And it hit me like a ton of bricks - how did I forget to write the darn letter? I'd thought about that &*^% thing for two plus years! Then began all the questions in my head: what do I do now? Do I write the letter and see if I can still turn it in? Will it look worse to the administration if I tried that? At this point would it even be read? For days I went round and round and round. Until life took over and other things consumed my brain. From time to time I would remember that I hadn't written the letter and I would sit down and start a draft. But I could never figure out what to say. I didn't want to paint Alex as a "bad child" and have a teacher be turned against him from day one. But I also didn't want to paint him as the "perfect child" because I know he's not - none of them are.
So, I ended up never writing the letter. About a month had passed since registration and I decided at that point it was just too late and I needed to accept whatever teacher he got. It was as if God was telling me to "be still" and wait on Him. Through the next couple of months, I kept being reminded of another time in my life where he was telling me the same thing. A time where I needed to do nothing but be patient and turn it over to Him.
When Matt and I were going through fertility treatments, there were a million different things to test, check, watch, research, etc. In some ways that helped me through the pain of it all because it kept my brain occupied. But in other ways, it kept me so busy that I wasn't turning it over to God. I was trying to control each and every single solitary detail on my own. I remember being out to lunch with a friend and telling her I needed to stop at the drugstore. (Forgive the upcoming TMI but I couldn't figure out how to tell this story without the one detail). I wanted to stop and get an ovulation testing kit that the doctor's office had recommended. Even though I was being heavily monitored by their office, there were certain things I could be watching at home. So, after lunch, we swung by the drugstore. We went inside together, went to the aisle and I just stood there, staring at the shelf. I felt REALLY anxious inside, couldn't make a decision and told my friend "forget about it. I'll just get one on my way home."
After work that evening, I was driving home and I can remember this clear as if it just happened. I needed to go straight to head to the drugstore and turn right to head home. I sat at that stop sign so long that the person behind me honked. I just couldn't make myself go straight. It was like the car wouldn't go in that direction. So, I turned right, went home and felt an amazing sense of peace for that evening. I decided I would not be buying anymore of those kits and I needed to let it go. I couldn't plan every detail because it wasn't MY plan, it was HIS. It was the next week that I learned about the prayer and healing service at the church. And it was three weeks after that when we learned we were pregnant with Alex. To this day, I count that moment as instrumental in my journey. My journey of turning my life over to God. Have I tried to take it back a thousand times since? Yes. It's been a push-pull ever since. I won't say I'm perfect in this area by any means, but I can honestly say I try. I try to remember that moment when I did nothing and it turned out perfectly. I try to remember that God didn't need my help AT ALL. Alex is proof of that.
Fast forward to this past Tuesday. Alex and I go to the Elementary school to re-register him and get the name of his teacher. As soon as we walk out the door, I send a teacher-friend from the same school a Facebook message. She messages back quickly to tell me it's a good fit and we'll love her. One of my best friends asks her teacher friend what she thinks. She writes back "That is a great fit. She's sweet, funny and a great teacher!" I posted on a Chelsea website about what teacher your child got and here are some of the responses I received on that site: You will love her, She's an amazing teacher, My little girl loves her, She's so sweet, She's great and fun with the kids, She is incredible, She is wonderful."
Of course, with each message, my sense of peace kept rising. It was like a warm, comfortable blanket being draped over my body. And in my mind, that feeling was directly from God. Him telling me that He had it under control from the beginning. That I did the write thing by NOT writing that letter. That Alex's life is in His hands, NOT mine. And any last bit of worry about the start of Kindergarten was wiped from my brain. I knew at that moment that whatever hurdles we might face, God would handle them - they were NOT up to me to solve. If Alex's ADHD became an issue without medication, He would show us the correct plan. I didn't need to have everything figured out myself, because MY plan didn't matter anyway.
Will Alex and his new teacher get along perfectly? I'm sure not. Will he try and push her buttons? Absolutely. Will he get in trouble sometime during the year? Most definitely. Is she who my son is supposed to have? ABSOLUTELY. And that knowledge has given me permission to get out of the way. Fully out of the way. I don't know how to teach, but I have absolute faith that she does. And I know that I couldn't have picked the right teacher on my own. Because I don't have THE plan. Just another reminder to be still and wait on Him. Hopefully a reminder that will stay in my brain through the school year.
Hope everyone has a great day. Thanks for reading my ramblings. Love to all.
Along with this prepping him for Kindergarten, I was told about "writing the letter". This was a letter that I should write that explained his personality, his behavior, sord of like an 'introduction to Alex'. I was told this was super important because it would help him get the right Kindergarten teacher. From the time he was about 3 1/2, I was mentally preparing this letter in my head. I bought into how important it was because he is so hyper and let's be honest - there is no other child quite like Alex. I love him more than life itself, but even I know he is quite a handful. And it takes a certain person to be able to handle his energy and keep him in line. So, definitely I had to write that letter.
Even with all this 'prepping', I didn't find out about Kindergarten registration until about two weeks beforehand. And it was going to take place one day after we were returning from vacation. So, I started filling out forms, getting copies made, retrieving his social security card and birth certificate from the safe deposit box (because those things can not be kept in a safe - yes, Matt, I am poking fun at you). I had my pile all ready for when we got back from Florida. I was proud of myself for being uber-organized.
The day of registration went fine, other than Alex being super shy and not wanting to enter the building. But we got through it. I'd remembered every form, every proof of residency, every check I'd needed to write. Or so I thought....
When I got home, I talked to one of my best friends and she asked if I had remembered to turn in "the letter" with my forms. And it hit me like a ton of bricks - how did I forget to write the darn letter? I'd thought about that &*^% thing for two plus years! Then began all the questions in my head: what do I do now? Do I write the letter and see if I can still turn it in? Will it look worse to the administration if I tried that? At this point would it even be read? For days I went round and round and round. Until life took over and other things consumed my brain. From time to time I would remember that I hadn't written the letter and I would sit down and start a draft. But I could never figure out what to say. I didn't want to paint Alex as a "bad child" and have a teacher be turned against him from day one. But I also didn't want to paint him as the "perfect child" because I know he's not - none of them are.
So, I ended up never writing the letter. About a month had passed since registration and I decided at that point it was just too late and I needed to accept whatever teacher he got. It was as if God was telling me to "be still" and wait on Him. Through the next couple of months, I kept being reminded of another time in my life where he was telling me the same thing. A time where I needed to do nothing but be patient and turn it over to Him.
When Matt and I were going through fertility treatments, there were a million different things to test, check, watch, research, etc. In some ways that helped me through the pain of it all because it kept my brain occupied. But in other ways, it kept me so busy that I wasn't turning it over to God. I was trying to control each and every single solitary detail on my own. I remember being out to lunch with a friend and telling her I needed to stop at the drugstore. (Forgive the upcoming TMI but I couldn't figure out how to tell this story without the one detail). I wanted to stop and get an ovulation testing kit that the doctor's office had recommended. Even though I was being heavily monitored by their office, there were certain things I could be watching at home. So, after lunch, we swung by the drugstore. We went inside together, went to the aisle and I just stood there, staring at the shelf. I felt REALLY anxious inside, couldn't make a decision and told my friend "forget about it. I'll just get one on my way home."
After work that evening, I was driving home and I can remember this clear as if it just happened. I needed to go straight to head to the drugstore and turn right to head home. I sat at that stop sign so long that the person behind me honked. I just couldn't make myself go straight. It was like the car wouldn't go in that direction. So, I turned right, went home and felt an amazing sense of peace for that evening. I decided I would not be buying anymore of those kits and I needed to let it go. I couldn't plan every detail because it wasn't MY plan, it was HIS. It was the next week that I learned about the prayer and healing service at the church. And it was three weeks after that when we learned we were pregnant with Alex. To this day, I count that moment as instrumental in my journey. My journey of turning my life over to God. Have I tried to take it back a thousand times since? Yes. It's been a push-pull ever since. I won't say I'm perfect in this area by any means, but I can honestly say I try. I try to remember that moment when I did nothing and it turned out perfectly. I try to remember that God didn't need my help AT ALL. Alex is proof of that.
Fast forward to this past Tuesday. Alex and I go to the Elementary school to re-register him and get the name of his teacher. As soon as we walk out the door, I send a teacher-friend from the same school a Facebook message. She messages back quickly to tell me it's a good fit and we'll love her. One of my best friends asks her teacher friend what she thinks. She writes back "That is a great fit. She's sweet, funny and a great teacher!" I posted on a Chelsea website about what teacher your child got and here are some of the responses I received on that site: You will love her, She's an amazing teacher, My little girl loves her, She's so sweet, She's great and fun with the kids, She is incredible, She is wonderful."
Of course, with each message, my sense of peace kept rising. It was like a warm, comfortable blanket being draped over my body. And in my mind, that feeling was directly from God. Him telling me that He had it under control from the beginning. That I did the write thing by NOT writing that letter. That Alex's life is in His hands, NOT mine. And any last bit of worry about the start of Kindergarten was wiped from my brain. I knew at that moment that whatever hurdles we might face, God would handle them - they were NOT up to me to solve. If Alex's ADHD became an issue without medication, He would show us the correct plan. I didn't need to have everything figured out myself, because MY plan didn't matter anyway.
Will Alex and his new teacher get along perfectly? I'm sure not. Will he try and push her buttons? Absolutely. Will he get in trouble sometime during the year? Most definitely. Is she who my son is supposed to have? ABSOLUTELY. And that knowledge has given me permission to get out of the way. Fully out of the way. I don't know how to teach, but I have absolute faith that she does. And I know that I couldn't have picked the right teacher on my own. Because I don't have THE plan. Just another reminder to be still and wait on Him. Hopefully a reminder that will stay in my brain through the school year.
Hope everyone has a great day. Thanks for reading my ramblings. Love to all.
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