seeing what i see

bumble is in sixth grade now. last year, at the end of fifth grade, his teachers finally convinced the principal to bring in the school psychologist to have him evaluated. i had been saying for years and years that i think there is something wrong, that he is slower than he needs to be, that this attitude of "he'll eventually catch up" wasn't working. something needed to be done, but it took all the way until fifth grade to finally have them run all their tests and analyze all of his work to make their determination, to make their diagnosis of his issues. their official diagnosis that, without which, he didn't qualify for the extra help he sorely needed.

so finally, after tests and meetings and having people literally follow him around all day to see how he did in class, how he interacted with his peers, how he took his tests, the word from on high was passed down. beyond his speech delays (which he was already receiving therapy for) and his motor skill delays (which were being addressed), they determined that he had phonological dyslexia. so he can't read because he can't sound out words because he doesn't hear them correctly. and if you say the words to him, he can't repeat them because he has so many pronunciation issues because of his speech delays. it's a sloppy mess of problems that were finally going to be addressed and he would get the help he sorely needed.

not that they thought they could get him up to grade level for years and years. it was five years that they let these issues go untreated, so it would be another three, or four, or five, until he was able to read and work at the level of his peers. which shouldn't be so much of a problem because now he qualified for extra help! so instead of doing the reading work the rest of the class was doing, he was reading other text that was on his level! and instead of trying to keep up with the spelling words that his peers had to learn, he had his own list that was phonologically selected to help his learn "sound chunks!"

except there was certain work he had to complete with the rest of his class. he had to learn the definitions of the same vocabulary words, for instance. words that correlated to a story the rest of the class worked on, but not him because the story was above his level. so he had to struggle to learn the words as he didn't have the benefit of context clues to help him memorize the definitions.

and yet there is hope, finally. because i was listened to, finally. and he is getting help, finally. for all my failings and fears that all of his issues were my fault, i would not stand by without fighting for him. i might not fight for myself, but him, he (like his siblings) are always worth fighting for.

trigger warning

there are certain phrases that i feel have been corrupted, taken over and used again and again so their impact is watered down. or used in a different way than their original intended meaning, so that their present definition has skewed from what has been intended. slang has a way of doing that to words, and i am fully aware that i do it too. one phrase, though, that i wish hadn't been corrupted by the populace is "trigger warning."

now i see that phrase used by those that don't want to offend. or i see those that ask for it's usage so they know the steer clear of certain articles that they might be upset by because it is filled with different opinions than their own. but that's not how it's meant to be used. it is not a phrase that is supposed to help those pushing a completely politically correct agenda. it is not to be used lightly, placed at the beginning of any article that might offend or upset. there is nothing wrong with getting upset about things, especially if it leads to a discussion on differences. or if it highlights a point of view that was previously unknown to a person. sometimes we live too much in our own safe sphere, never venturing out to explore other viewpoints or dissenting opinions. how can we changed and grow and understand each other if we only ever surround ourselves with those like us?

but that is not the point of this post. the point of this post is how upsetting i find it that the people who need the protection that phrase provides aren't getting it. but then, that also bleeds into a larger view on the corruption of mental illness and its descriptors. people use the word "depressed" all the time to mean sad, but that word means so much more than that. i've heard people describe others with the term "bipolar," when they really mean that someone is moody or changes their mind a lot. people sometimes say they think their kids have "ADHD," even though their child is just showing the normal signs of being a kid. all these phrases, tossed around so lightly, are actually medical terms, diagnoses and diseases, and the people who have these illness (as determined by their doctor) probably don't appreciate what could be construed as the belittling of their difficulties.

(i will not say i speak for the community as a whole, i only speak for myself)

and so stories and articles with the phrase "trigger warning" don't use it to signify that they are posting something controversial, they use it as a true warning, and follow that phrase with a short description of why the follow might be a trigger for some. the warning may explain that the piece could talk about self harm or suicide or abuse of alcohol, and those that also struggle with the problem should be aware. not everyone that self harms needs to worry about reading an article on dangers of cutting, but there are some that might read it and think that it sounds like a pretty good idea. so instead of showing the possible dangers, the article would inspire those to begin again. hence the need for a warning, because some people need to be more careful than others about what they read or see or do. and maybe one day they'll get to a point where it doesn't matter, that they are strong enough read things like that without backsliding into a bad place. but then there are those that are still at the beginning of their journey, or are having a hard time, or it is just a bad moment, and then they need those warnings so they don't accidentally fall deeper into the pit.

i am all for not offending others, but a line must be drawn between being unoffensive and being ridiculous. people also must realize, though, that there are so many other views than their own, and people are fighting struggles with demons that others don't even know exist. and if we can help those that need help, or even just make their fight easier in some small way, why is that a bad thing? in the end, i guess i just wish we could take back the meaning of things, use words as they were originally intended, until we don't need those words anymore.

not like you

so it's been a few weeks since i've posted anything here. we are still trying to get back into the swing of school and scouts and sports. plus last christmas it was decided that taking a family vacation during the fourth week of school would be a lovely idea, so once we were finally getting used to our routines, we took a break and now have to embrace them again.

i've also had a lot on my mind, things i've been working through, things i want to share here. it's the thoughts i have that pop up every year around this time, when our family schedule changes. it takes almost all school year for things to settle and everyone to accept their roles and duties. and then school ends and summer starts and all the routines and schedules and set daily plans go out the window in bits and pieces, until we find ourselves at the end of summer and the beginning of a new school year and we have to start all over again.

i don't mind the starting over again, i like routines and schedules, and my kids really thrive on knowing what comes next and what is expected of them and the plans we have for the day and week ahead. the part that throws me for a loop every year is that the school year also includes scouts and sports and all the other activities that my kids are involved in. all summer i can luxuriate in my agoraphobia, but at the end of august i am expected to be an adult and mother and go to meetings and practices and interact with other adults. and that is when, unfortunately, my differences always shine.

i don't like talking to people, i am terrible at small talk, and i always feel like i have nothing to say. but small talk is almost a requirement at these kid events, or it used to be until the age of smart phones and my new ability to stare at a small screen and pretend i am busy. i also have a "bit" of social anxiety, where as soon as i leave my house i start to panic. once we finally get to where we are going, the kids jump out of the car to join their peers and leave me milling around with the rest of the adults. those adults who i am convinced are laughing and pointing and talking about me, secretly belittling me because they know i am not like them, that i don't belong, that i am different and not the same and not worth being here. and so the panic sets in, and invariably i feel like crying or vomiting or hiding in my car, or all three if i happen to be at a boy scout meeting. so then, to pass the time and look busy and give me something else to focus on, i live tweet my panic attack, describing my cold sweats and nausea and racing heart and fear (it's a good time, you should follow me). and eventually, it ends, the kids come back, we get in the car and go home, and in the comfort of my safe space i am better.

all of my issues about leaving my house are tied together, and to fix one i must work on fixing them all. i know i would have an easier time if i was better at small talk, i would feel less different if i could hold a conversation with the other parents. because i know that they really aren't standing around making fun of me, they probably don't even notice me, but because i don't interact with them, my mind jumps to worse case scenario. the problem i have is that (especially at scouts, which is the worst) i don't have anything to talk about with the other parents. our interests are too different to be able to talk week after week about anything more than the weather. beyond the activity at hand, our kids don't even have much in common, so after all these years of seeing the same people, i have run out of ways to talk about the weather.

also, the simple fact that i struggle with anxiety sets me apart. but how to explain that i am not stuck up or bitchy but flat out scared is the reason i sit quietly and don't say anything? especially when in so many places the discussion of mental illness is taboo? last tuesday, while sitting around with the other parents, bumble ran over to me and said that i should try to make friends. it kills me that even he realizes i am not like the other moms. he has enough he is dealing with and has to personally overcome without being the kid with the weird mother, but i am at a lost with what to do.

on the internet it is easy to find people who share your interests, who are similar to you and with whom you can talk to about anything. in real life, in the more conservative circles i am forced to travel, it is so much harder. i don't watch sitcoms or care about the latest celebrity scandal or agree that this country was really founded on christian principles and the bible should dictate the laws we pass. i would much rather talk about superheros and space exploration and environmental conservation and the best way to build pneumatic steampunk fairy wings. but finding physical people to talk about stuff like that with, instead of just digital, has proven impossible. so i will continue to sit quietly and stare at my phone and try to slow my racing heart, and hope that, even if others do think i'm different, they don't hold it against my kids.

something like normal

my social anxiety makes me worry. such is the nature of anxiety. but specifically, i worry about what other people think. i worry about being normal, i worry about whether people will see me as weird or different or strange. i worry that my reactions to events won't be quite right, so i hold myself back and don't react. and then i worry that not reacting isn't quite right and that people are judging me any way. and so sometimes i take cues from my peers and mirror their reactions, even if it goes in the opposite direction to my own.

and then, of course, i worry that people can see through me. can see that i am just acting, just pretending to be like they are, that they know that i am not. that all of this is a facade and that i am not like them. and so i worry that they are judging me, that every one is talking about me behind my back, laughing and pointing and saying terrible things.

so i avoid as much social interaction as possible, because all of that worry is stressful. all of that pretending and then second guessing every action taken leaches all the fun out of any and every activity. i can't relax when i am out, because if i let myself relax then i worry that i will let my crazy show. of course then i worry that by not participating in activities and putting myself out there socially, people are still talking and judging and laughing.

so yes, most days and places, no matter what i do or say or how i act, i feel not quite right, not in line with the expectations of others. and even though a much more rational part of my brain tells me that i shouldn't care about the opinions of others, that i should live for myself, that i should do what makes me happy, i can't. i just want to be normal.

all of this probably stems from me living in my own head way too much, and that most of those that i interact with don't notice me at all, let alone think of me much, that i really am mostly invisible and unimportant to others. still, i worry that people will see me as a fraud. that they will know i have no idea what i'm doing and am secretly panicking constantly. and that, because i am a ball of stress wound too tight, i would much rather go home.

on edge

i am trying to keep everything straight this week. school starts, and football is in full swing. this weekend there is a big party we are not only attending, but i agreed to help set up and make food for. plus i have house guests to deal with. one has been here for a week and will be here for another week or so, and two more come this weekend for the aforementioned party.

needless to say, i am a bit stressed. i am afraid i am going to miss something. i am afraid something is going to remain undone and i will let people down. there are so many moving parts and pieces this week, and it falls to me to get everyone in place backstage so when the curtain goes up, we are all ready.

the other side of this, the more crazy less rational side (and isn't there always?) is that i think i am not as stressed and upset about certain things as i should be. i like my home a certain way, i have routines and schedules in place, but i also try to be an accommodating hostess. and so, with house guests, i have deferred to their preferences and let some things go so i know they are comfortable. which has left me uncomfortable and stressed out and unable to fall back on my routines to get me through. so i am personally upset. but on friday, my dear fish goes to kindergarten all day, and i am ready to push her out the door. and i am more than ready for the boys to go back.

and so it stands as this: friends and beloved family come for a visit and stay causes me panic, but a milestone that proves all of my children are growing up and will soon leave me makes me feel next to nothing. and because i think that this is not how things should be, i feel the need to pretend that i welcome all my guests with open arms while acting visibly upset at my children heading off to school.

i know i am me, that nobody else is me, and that if this is how i react to my life, i shouldn't feel bad about it. but this is just another one of those times where i feel less than normal, and that my reaction to things isn't quite right, and over so many years i have been trained to feel bad about my choices and my feelings, especially when they don't fall in line with those of my peers. part of me knows that i shouldn't feel bad about how i feel, but i also know that i'm not there yet. society's pressures are still too strong, and i am not like the brave women i've seen who don't care what others think. because honestly, i do care. i want so much to be liked and accepted that there are times i am willing to go against who i am if it gets me closer to who i think people want me to be. maybe one day i will be strong and brave and will find my tribe who will support me no matter what i do or say. right now, though, i still feel like i need to hide all this crazy.

controlling the volume of my voice

one thing that i have always appreciated is silence. it's not that i have ever taken it for granted and then am reminded of how awesome it is when the kids are away (like now). no, i have always loved the quiet. as soon as they go to bed, i shut off the tv and just sit. even when my hubby and i are up watching shows together, and we stay up much later than we should to watch just one more show on netflix, even then when he wanders off to bed and wants me to join him, i will sit in the silence of my living room for a little.

too much noise has always been too much for me. when the world around me gets too loud, the voices and thoughts that are constant in my head start turning up the volume. then everything feels like it's shouting and i can't reason or think or function. i feel swallowed up by the noise. i need quiet to breath and to think and to calm myself. because if things stay too loud for too long, i feel like i get wound up, going around and around, tighter and tighter until i can't breath. and then i feel like screaming.

so yes, i appreciate the quiet, i enjoy the silence, i need to be noise free everyday to recharge and regroup. but in this house, with three boisterous children? silence doesn't happen. not very often during their waking hours at least. as they all get older, they have gotten louder. they shout over each other, vying for my attention, until they are literally yelling at me and i can't process what they are saying. so they yell louder, thinking that turning up the volume will help with understanding.

i am trying my very best to get them all to understand that being loudest doesn't mean that you win, it's the one with the best reasoned argument that gets the point. also that taking turns speaking means that everyone can be heard, and it doesn't matter if you were the first one talking, and it really doesn't matter if you get the last word in. most days, though, these finer points of debate are lost on my children.

and so they talk loudly at me, as excited kids do, and they talk very loudly at each other, to make sure they are heard. then, so that i know i am heard, i talk louder over them all to get them to be quiet. there have been many days when my husband has come home from work and heard me yelling at them for quiet, i can only imagine what my neighbors think.

today i go and pick up all my kids from their grandparents, with whom they stayed this last week. and though it might make me sound like a terrible mother, i would love to leave them there for a few more days. i don't mind physically taking care of them anymore, making dinner everyday and making sure they've bathed, picking up after them and laundry and driving them places and all the other million things that make up my day. no, all of that gives me something to do. i am loathe to get them because i will miss the quiet.

guilt and shame and selfishness and motherhood

i could write pages and pages on guilt and shame. i feel guilty over everything, whether it was my fault, whether it was beyond my control or not, whether i even actually did anything or not. and when my anxiety flares up so much that i am frozen in place and can't actually do anything, then i remember things that i did in my past to feel guilty about, or i feel guilty about all the terrible thoughts running through my head, even when i don't act on them or share them with anybody else.

and the shame, oh the shame. i feel shame for feeling guilty about all the things that i know in my rational mind i shouldn't feel guilty about. i feel shame about who i am on the most basic level, so much some days that i can barely function. and so starts the cycle over again.

now, if i had another life, i don't know if i would still feel like this all the time, if i would always find some crazy, not my fault, thing to feel guilty about, but i am a mother, a job with guilty built right in. any failing on my children's part i take as my personal failing, and so i feel guilty for it. every time i failed to protect them (even if i tried and they didn't listen), i feel guilty. all the times that i feel like i should be doing something with them, something more helpful or enriching or pinterest inspired perfect, and i'm not, i feel guilty.

and then comes the shame of feeling that i've failed them. or that i can't be the mom that they deserve. or that if i was somehow magically better or different or not me, they'd all have the perfect life. and so i feel ashamed of just being me, even if that's all i can be.

this is all to say that, because of all my shame and guilt and random feeling bad for not being enough, i don't take much for myself. like ever. even the times i actually need a break from them, some time away to recharge, or really need to buy myself things to replace falling apart shoes or clothes worn through, i don't. i feel like i have such little time to give them, with taking care of this home and running the household and trying to find time to spend with each of them individually, that i don't have any time left over to take for myself. (unless i forgo sleep, but running days on little sleep with no way to catch up doesn't make things better.) and i don't go out and buy things for myself, even when my hubby says i should, because for every shirt i pick out for me, i think of all the other things i could be doing with that money. i know kids want things, they are kids and they want all the things, but as their mom i want to try to give them all the things that i can.

and so most days it all comes down to the fact that i feel guilty for not giving them everything i think they deserve and in the same breath feeling guilty for not taking better care of myself so i can take better care of them. i know i need to be selfish, but taking time to relax and then feeling guilty the whole time isn't terribly relaxing. i'm still striving to find a balance, something that works for everyone that i can feel good about. some days i feel closer to it than others, and i think i'll know when i achieve it. i've been a mommy for almost 12 years, maybe in another 12 i'll find it.

droning on and on and on

let me preface this post with the fact that i love my kids, i really do, and hopefully no matter what i say that fact remains unquestionable. there are many facts, many truths, that pop in my life, some which seem contradictory. such as the fact i love my kids, but there are days that i can't stand them. that they are a joy to be around, but i really don't want to be around them all the time. that i know they love each other and miss each other when they are apart, but they fight like cats and dogs when they are together, and i am surprised there hasn't been more blood spilled (literally) when they do get into scrapes.

but what is true for all relationships is true for a mother and child bond, that i can love them more than anything but that doesn't mean that i love everything about them. such is another one of those tricky truths that i am working hard to accept. and it doesn't mean that i want to change them, because they are not clones of me, they are their own people with their own personalities. still, they have these little quirks that drive me up the wall, such as monologging.

seriously, they monolog like super villans, talking on and on with no pause, whether i am listening or not, whether i am trying to pay attention to something else or not, about whatever they are doing or thinking. and i've told them before that i don't care, i've told them before that i am busy and if they want to talk to me they need to say "excuse me" and wait for my attention, and i've told them that if they want to narrate their own life, they should try to do it quietly in their heads and not bother other people. or write everything down on a stupid blog on the internet.

really, i haven't said most of those things to my lovely children, even though i've thought them, because i have enough guilt from all the things without adding that i yell at them to shut up. i have become adept at tuning them out though, because all the rambling and senseless talking drains me. i can't handle all the noise, the way that i recharge is in silence. too much sound overwhelms me, it's really one of the main reasons that i don't like going out places or doing things with other people. i have so much going on in my own head, too much sound on the outside makes the voices on the inside shout that much louder. and then i'm done, all panicked and crying in a corner, social anxiety for the win.

so yes, i love my children. and i do love that they are creative and imaginative and expressive and clever. i want to know what is going on in their heads and in their lives, what their opinions are and views on life, just some days i'd like the cliff notes version.

all mixed up

things are crazy here, have been crazy here for more than a month. we, i, thrive on routine, and that routine has been thrown out he window. and though i feel like i'm just barely keeping it together, i am mostly doing ok. with, as is usual, some days being better than others.

normally i don't have to worried about losing the normalcy of my days until summer break hits, and the boys are off and wanting to watch cartoons all day. and then i have to feed them every meal and try to reign in their screen time and still get them to do some sort of work so their skills don't totally get lost. but now our nice daily schedule is all thrown off because my dear hubby has been home for more than a month. it's the longest time we've ever spent together with neither of us working, and the bottom line is that it has been a true test of our relationship.

more than a month ago, all the way back in april, he crushed his finger trying to put his ladder away at work. not just broke, the bone in his left pinkie was in about ten pieces in the xray that was taken in the emergency room. if he hadn't been wearing his wedding ring, he probably would have lost his whole hand, which is not the first time that circle of medal has saved his fingers. still, he only broke his littlest finger on his dominant hand (of course he's left-handed), which seems like such a small thing, though over the weeks we have been finding out how big on an injury is it. he has a very manual labor type job, and without his little finger, he can't grip anything with the rest of his hand. for a while, to hold everything straight, there were pins that made an x around the bone and came out through the skin, which he had to be very careful about. we're finally at the point where the pins are out, but now he has to go to physical therapy, because after being forced to hold his finger straight for so long, the joints no longer want to bend.

and so i've had him home with me for many weeks. and he hasn't been working, which has been very tough for him. he's worked since he was 16, and in fact the company he's at he's been with for 14 years, which is a feat for somebody only in their mid-30s. but he doesn't know what to do with himself, and i've tried to entertain him, and we've watched a lot of stupid tv, and he's gotten to play some of his neglected quest games on the xbox, but still i'll be happier and he'll be happier when he's not home quite so much.

also, he finally finished school and graduated. it was nice to not have to work, that he was able to throw everything he had into his finals. though one consisted of hands-on lab work, but his teacher liked him so much he was able to use all of his participation in class to cover the work he wasn't able to do. so he graduated, with highest honors, and because he wasn't working his parents came down for the week to watch him walk across the stage and get his diploma holder. and we had a huge party, more because i wanted to throw a party than he wanted to celebrate, which is when more friends and family came down.

so over the month or so i have been absent from here, i've had a house full of people, i've hosted parties and dinners, i've seen my hubby more in these weeks than i have since christmas, and then of course there have been the normal ups and downs of life with my kids and the dramas of elementary school. i'm actually looking forward to summer break at this point, because then we start a whole new routine, so i don't have to worry about adjusting back to our old one. this is all just another example of how life is crazy and unpredictable. i would have thought i learned that lesson enough by now, but obviously the fates think i needed to be reminded.

just a push

i'm really not good at dealing with people. strangers or acquaintances, people i know or don't know or really should know but can't remember, it doesn't matter who they are, other people scare me and i don't like it. the it being the fact that i'm scared and the fact that people are scary.

the problem is that i am not graceful in social situations. too many times to i find myself out and about, trying to make small talk and having nothing to say. or there are conversations going on around me and i have nothing to add. so i am there, quietly observing, doing my best to blend in with the scenery. or if i do find my courage to actually say something, i usually falter halfway through when i realize that people are actually looking at me and listening to the words that are coming out of my mouth. not that i really enjoy my lonely existence, but i am so much more used to being ignored than having people pay attention. honestly, it's unsettling.

the paradox is that i enjoy going out. i like to people watch and observe from the sidelines. and i'm actually almost comfortable in a small group setting. in fact, i can sometimes handle one on one conversations, especially if i don't have to say anything. as long as i am not the center of attention, i am fine.

i do know this, and try hard to remember it, that i will be ok and enjoy myself if i'm going to be somewhere that to focus is on others. or if i'm going to be with my very close circle of people who understand my issue and jump in to talk for me. the hardest part for me then is the actually getting out and going.

it's like i have trouble just walking through the door, but when i sit down i'm fine. or i will try and get somewhere early, and then i sit in my car for a while, hyperventilating, debating on whether or not it would be better to go in or to just go home and never leave again. of course, when i am done and back in my car at the end of the day, i always wonder what i was so worked up about. and then i make the impossible promise that i will be better next time.

i do try to remember that the world isn't quite as scary as i think it is. and people aren't waiting around just to point and laugh at me. and that if they're paying attention to me, it's because they're actually interested in what i have to say. or even if they're just being polite and paying attention because i was paying attention to them, it doesn't mean they're judging me in their head. i don't know why i am constantly surprised that i am able to have a good time in the company of others, but i am.

all of this, of course, only holds true if i am going anywhere by myself. if i have my hubby or my kids with me, it's a whole different ball game. which, of course, might be the whole reason there is a problem, because i am so out of practice at going out like a grown up. i don't know how to act anymore if i'm not filling the roll of mom wrangling three crazed monkeys. but i'd like a chance at trying to remember, i just need a little push out the door.

tragedies and emergencies

back when i was in high school, i went on a back packing trip with my church youth group. after we had made camp, the leaders decided we should explore the area, which included crossing a 30 foot wide creek that was nearby. the water was only up to our knees, but the bottom was covered with large rocks that proved to be very slippery and the current in the middle was stronger than anyone thought it would be. we linked arms to try and steady ourselves when we were halfway across and realized it was probably a very stupid idea to be attempting. i was last in line, and when i slipped i let go of the hand i was holding and there was no one left to grab me. the current was too fast and too strong for me to stand up, but fortunately i had the presence of mind to point my head up stream and swim at an angle toward the shore. it turns out i was very lucky, because i ended up 30 yards downstream from where i fell, and there was only 10 yards between me and serious rapids. had i panicked, not kept a level head and tried to swim to shore, i surely would have drowned.

fast forward a number of years to a quiet afternoon at home. fishie was only a few weeks old, and i had just finished feeding her and put her down for a nap. my hubby was sleeping, as he had work that evening, and the boys were playing in their bedroom. suddenly i heard a loud crash and then crying. honestly, this was nothing new, as the boys were getting into the stage where they were starting to play rough. and then dear lumpy came walking down the hallway, crying. it wasn't a normal cry, it was a true cry of pain. he showed me his arm, and i could see where bone was trying to stick out of his skin and the whole forearm was at a strange angle because he had dislocated it from his elbow. i freaked out, i completely forgot what i should do in that kind of situation, and so i took him and we woke up his dad with the immortal words "does this look right?" after my dear hubby was full awake, which didn't take long given the situation, he took charge and sent me with lumpy to the e.r., where they set his bone and gave him a cast and sling. and the only reason i went instead of my much calmer husband is because i have all of the important medical history and information memorized for all of our children.

i wanted to share these lovely stories from my past because of the tragedies that seem to be happening more and more often in our world these days, and the wonderings of "what would i do in that situation?" because, unfortunately, i know what i would do, or at least how i would act. if it was only me, i'd be fine. when tragedy befalls my kids, i temporarily forget which way is up.

the truth is my family has been through an unfortunate number of tragic situations, and i wish that i could be calm throughout. invariably, i freak. eventually i will calm down and be the rock that is needed. still, because i know that i'm not so great in an emergency, i am trying to be prepared. so i plan what to do, and i go over those plans with my husband and my kids. they know where to go and who to call, and because the kids will probably act like me, they know where the important numbers and info are written so they don't have to worry about having everything memorized. i haven't gone all the way with fully packed bug-out bags, but that's really only because we have just enough money to live day to day. if i had enough left over, i'd definitely buy for tomorrow. as is, i plan. and wonder and worry and hope for the best. we know not what the future holds, but i will do my best to make sure we survive it, as calmly as i can.

adventures in getting to school

when bumble first started kindergarten, we used to drive to the bus stop. mind you, the bus stop was actually very close to our house, if i walked down to the end of our shared driveway, i could see it. the thing is, our shared driveway ended on a very busy street, and i just wasn't comfortable walking him and his brother down that road. especially since we would have to cross the street to get to where the stop was and there was no sidewalk so we were forced to walk along the shoulder. so as wasteful as it might seem to others driving such a short distance twice a day everyday, it's what we did.

then, when we were living with my moms, we still drove to the bus stop. we technically could have walked, it wasn't that far, and my moms lived in a quiet area. the problem was really that we were never all together and ready early enough that we could make it to the stop. there were many mornings that i can remember where we would pull up right behind the bus as it stopped, and my boys would jump out and run while i beeped so the bus would know not to pull away. have i mentioned how hard it is for us to get our stuff together so we can actually get to places on time? we rarely walked in the afternoon either. the boys were always bugging me to walk home, for whatever reason they thought it would be fun. the first day that it was nice, i threw fish in her stroller and we walked to get the boys, and then less than halfway home lumpy started crying. it seems that the bus ride was extra long and he had to go pee. we ended up "borrowing" a neighbor's bushes, and it was a long time before we tried walking home again.

now we live in a nice little neighborhood. quieter, and with sidewalks everywhere. and because the elementary school that my boys attend is connected to our neighborhood by a footpath, any child that goes to that school and lives in this neighborhood has to walk. technically, we have a choice: either we walk everyday or i can drive them everyday. depending on the weather, i will drive them, but most days we walk. of course, there are still days where we are running late in the mornings, and i end up driving them because they'll never make it if we tried to walk. or there has been a time or two when fish decided to take her nap at pick up time, so i'd plunk her in bed beside her dad, and then i'd drive to get the boys so i could get back quicker.

but now it's spring. and with the nicer weather and longer days, it seems easier to get up and going in the mornings. so we're trying something new: i am letting the boys walk by themselves in the mornings. for the longest time, i was worried to let them go, even though we live in a safe neighborhood. even though we see the same people whenever we walked together, usually people with dogs that walk the same way everyday. even though there are bunches of other kids that also walk. in fact, i finally realized that there are quite a number of other kids that walk by themselves everyday. so we sat and talked about it. and i talked about it with my husband. and everybody agreed that the boys were old enough, were ready.

still, we have walking rules. they go the same way everyday, which is the same way they'd go if i was with them. they always stay together. they don't talk to anyone they don't know, grown ups or kids, it doesn't matter. they walk straight to school, no detours.

so far, it's been good. they've made it to school on time every time, though i still have to tell them when to leave. and i always panic a little until after i know the school day started and the school didn't call wondering where my boys are. but then, that's just how it is, when you're a mom.

sring break

my boys are on spring break right now. it boggles my mind that they have such a thing. everyone else i know with kids in other districts near and far don't have to deal with this, the trecherous evil of the school board to give kids a vacation with a weekend filled with sugar and candy smack in the middle of it.

last week was a short week for them. it snowed monday, and though they could have handled a two hour delay, the school closed and the boys had off. then on thursday, the "start" of break, they only had a half day. it still counts as a full day of school, but really it's a day to rush through a little bit of work and then let the kids play "educational" games. not that i'm really complaining about them playing those kinds of games in school. lumpy needs more practice playing games with peers, unfortunately he's sometimes lacking in the good sportsmanship department. and it's not he's really a sore winner or loser, it's that sometimes people want to modify the rules to make things more fair or run smoother, and he freaks out. lumpy is a stickler for following rules to the letter, and working any loophole made by them.

well on thursday, i picked the boys up from school, and bumble came home with easter candy, so i can only imagine how much work was done if they stopped to hand out candy to all the kids. it is at that point i realized this break would be sugar-fueled craziness.

they then had off on friday, and they don't go back to school until this thursday, so it's almost a week off. and it really doesn't help that we had an easter dinner with my moms on saturday, and then with my dad on sunday, at both of which they got more candy. and of course, the easter bunny had to stop at our house sunday morning. though the easter bunny here was clever and left a handful of candy and a nice toy instead of a basket full of sugar.

still, it's been sugar overload. everyday, a few times a day, they have a piece or two of candy. i'm trying to be reasonable, and we're talking about appropriate serving sizes together so they understand, but still, that kind of constant sugar buzz is something they're not used to. and i know there have been studies done that say sugar doesn't wind up kids, and that might technically be true, because the amount of sugar they're eating is not what is calling their craziness. it's the fact that they're eating any sugar, because they're not used to it, that winds my kids up so. it's the treats, and then going out and doing things, it's all the over stimulation. all three of them have been bouncing off the walls at different times, and then dropping down in a crash when they don't get what they want.

unfortunately, my boys need the structure of school to help them hold their emotions in, and i just don't have the time and energy to keep a constant super schedule going at home. especially at this point, where everybody is bouncing around like rabid monkeys, i'm lucky to keep everything from falling into total chaos. i believe all of us are secretly, or not so secretly, counting down the days until school starts again. and already, i shudder to think what summer will hold.

keep it together until it comes together

i am by no means perfect. i don't even pretend to be perfect. there are days where i feel lucky to make it out of the house in one piece only slightly late while forgetting one or two things. seriously, my goal in life is to be able to get everyone in my house out the door on time for a whole week completely prepared for their day. it hasn't happened yet, but when it does, i will be throwing myself a party.

and so, when i'm out and about, at the store or on the way to school for example, i look at other moms with pity and understanding. because i know what it's like not to have it all together. and i'd hope that they look at me with the same sort of understanding.

like if i'm grocery shopping, and i hear screaming. full pitched, throwing a fit, should be accompanied by rolling on the floor and kicking feet, i feel bad for whoever that kid belongs to. well, my first reaction is to be glad it's not mine, because there but for the grace of god it could be. and then, i feel for them. because i've been there. in fact, there are times i'm there right now, because dear fish thinks she's a big girl so she doesn't want to sit in a shopping cart anymore. and it's hard to keep her near me and not run off. and it's hard to get her to not touch everything. and some days i just don't have the patience to deal, and i strap her in the cart, and then she screams bloody murder. so i know how it goes with kids in stores sometimes.

i try to be organized. i try to have it all together. mostly, i'm trying to get my boys to realize that they are old enough to mind their own stuff and get themselves ready. because if they could manage that, then all i'd have to do is focus on myself and fish (and making sure their dad is awake, but that's a whole different challenge). lately, they've been telling me that they are old enough and responsible enough to handle everything, and i've let them try and prove themselves. and sometimes it goes well. and sometimes they have a water fight when they're supposed to be brushing their teeth. or bumble forgets to wear his glasses to school. or lumpy forgets to give me the papers he brought home, the ones i was supposed to sign.

i know i wasn't always the most together and with it person, or maybe i never really was, but it seems to me that i have become less and less organized over the years. and yes, i know that i'm not only responsible for myself, but also for all the people that reside in my house, so i've got more work to do just to get out the door. but there are days where i can get everyone up and dressed and moving and out the door on time, but i forget to brush my own teeth. and it seems lately that's how it goes, that i can remember everything for everybody else, but i forget myself sometimes.

i must admit that things are slowly getting better. there are weeks where i remember to help the boys with all of their school work, and only forget the work they were supposed to do for cub scouts. and when i go to the store, i actually remember my list and only forget to buy the things i forgot to write down. and most weeks i actually remember all the places we're supposed to go, even if we're a little late for most of them.

i also know that this state of barely controlled chaos is temporary. as my kids get older and actually become more self sufficient, they'll be able to manage their own affairs and better remember their own responsibilities without needing me to constantly remind them. and one day, i'll look back on all this craziness and wonder where my children went, as eventually i'll be surrounded by young adults who are too cool to hang out with their mother. so i've been told to cherish this time, even though many days all i want is for people to take control of their own affairs so i have the time to manage mine. also, most days i'd like a nap.

i wish i could be brave

being brave and speaking my mind on important topics is hard. especially when i always try to be so careful not to upset or anger people. if i know my thoughts on a subject are different, i do my best to avoid talking about.

yet, there are some things that i feel very strongly about, things that i believe in with all my heart. these are the things that i am trying to teach my children, important values that i want to instill. some are basic, but i realize that some are more controversial.

i know that as we go out in the world, we'll encounter people who are different than us, people come from different backgrounds and hold different beliefs. i like to think that i have a very open mind. as long as it doesn't affect me or my kids, i don't really care what others believe. jesus or budda or the flying spaghetti monster, i feel like you have the right to worship whoever you want. but you don't have the right to tell me who or what to believe in. and if i believe differently, you can't tell me i'm wrong simply because your god tells you that i am. my god is one of compassion and acceptance, of tolerance and love.

it's harder still when we want to be a part of things, join organizations and such, and the benefits for my children seem to outweigh the costs of keeping silent. but then sometimes it feels very wrong to keep quiet, like we are all pretending that nothing is wrong by not talking about it. or everybody assumes we all agree on all things just because we are not as vocal with our beliefs.

i feel so weak, and i wish that i could stand up and tell everybody what i really think. because though they haven't always been talking specifically to me, i know their thoughts and views on most things. especially way back in november, they made it very clear what they believe in and what they think others should believe in too.

i'm afraid, also, that if i do find courage to say something, it won't just be me that loses out, i'm afraid that their retaliation would affect my children. now i don't know for sure that it would happen, or that anything would change, but i'm sure i'd be the talk of their little circle. it's hard enough sometimes to explain the cruelty and unfairness of the world to my boys, but then to try to explain to them that they can't be friends with others simply because their parents are so close minded, i know they wouldn't understand. i had a hard enough time trying to explain what slavery was when it came up in their social studies homework. because when they ask you "why would a person do that to somebody else?" i just didn't have a good answer.

and i guess that's my problem. i don't really have a good answer for any of this. i just want people to be happy and treated fairly. and i can't understand why everybody doesn't agree with that.

cherishing mementos vs. hoarding stuff

at the moment, i am spring cleaning and organizing closets, and i remembered i had this and never posted it. i wrote it last june, when we were moving into the house we're in now. i am still no better about not holding onto things for reason only worthwhile to me...

are you tired of hearing about my moving adventures? yeah, i'm kind of tired of talking about them too. but, the fact is that it is the all consuming entity of my life right now. and, if i don't talk about it nicely like this, i'll probably just start randomly screaming on street corners, holding up signs that say "no more cardboard!" made out of cardboard, of course. because when you're yelling on street corners, it helps to get your point across if you look extra crazy.

my point of this post is that i have lots of stuff. too much stuff by some people's reckoning. but i'm trying to get better about all the random crap i keep. there have been boxes of things that haven't moved into the new house, they went straight to the dump or the donation pile. and there have been boxes that i've opened, and instead of trying to find homes of all contained there-in, i have gotten one of our lovely contractor bags (the 70 gallon kind designed to hold bodies), and filled it with all manner of stuffs.

and sometimes, the boxes are filled with things that i just look at and wonder why they got packed in the first place. those are the easy boxes to deal with, because there's no attatchment to them. it's the other boxes that are harder to figure out. ones that are filled with things that i don't really want, but feel like i need in some way. or it's filled with things that are still perfectly good and in working order, but nobody else wants, so i feel like i need to hold onto it, just in case.

just in case is kind of my downfall. that phrase is what does me in. because there have been boxes filled with old books or toys, or perhaps my wedding decorations from years ago, perfectly fine things that could totally be reused, but nobody else wants. so i think about getting rid of that stuff. and then, of course, i think that maybe tomorrow i'll need it, absolutely have to have it, so i should hold onto it. mind you, i haven't needed any of it in years and years, but tomorrow may be different! i made suddenly need to decorate my yard with frilly paper streamers, or absolutely have to set up a tea party for 20 stuffed bears, whose origins i no longer remember. so i have this burning desire to hold onto things, just in case.

that feeling is honestly easier to overcome than the other side of my problem. because i've become rational enough to understand that if i haven't used it in more than three years, or even gotten it out of the box it's stored in for more than three years, chances are i'm not going to need it. and if some random and crazy "just in case" moment comes up that i absolutely need it, i will go and buy a new version. because the truth is, in real today money, none of it is terribly expensive to replace.

the other side of things are the boxes filled with stuff that i deem irreplaceable. stuff that isn't worth anything to anybody else, but that i feel i must hold onto, lest i forget. they are boxes filled with physical memories. and yet, i'm getting to the point where i realize i don't need to save everything. still, it's very hard to figure out what is worth saving for all of time, and what are things i can let go of. because this is really where my problem lies, i want to save everything, and given the space, i know that i would.

ok, so honestly, my problem is that, even though i don't have the space, i try to save everything. like my closet is filled more with stuff i want to hold onto then clothes for me to wear. and the crazy part is, i am perfectly fine going through my clothes and getting rid of the things i don't use, so that i just enough "nice" outfits to get me through maybe a week.

and i can step back and realize that there is something slightly twisted in that viewpoint. but it's really very hard to get rid of the things you can never replace. like the boxes of drawings and art the boys made me, i have a box for every year that they were in school, starting in preschool. i've also saved all their writing and test and report cards. not that i know what i'll ever do with any of it, because i have a funny feeling they'll never want it. i also, for about twenty years, saved every card, birthday or thank you or congratulations, i ever got. i realized it was a silly thing to do, to save every card, so i stopped, but i still have a whole box from when i was still saving that i just can't bring myself to get rid of. and of course there are my notebooks. two boxes worth. most of them are a testament to my craziness. i finally was able to get rid of a box of disks; 20, filled to capacity with randomness, 3.5 inch diskettes to be precise, and the only real reason i was ok with getting rid of them was because i couldn't find the program i needed to open them anymore.

harder still to part with, but easier to rationalize why i keep them, are all the bits and broken things from all the people i'll never see again. i have a jewelry box filled with odds and ends of broken necklaces and bracelets, many from my grandmother who died years ago, some from friends i'll never see again. the hat from the hospital nursery, and pictures and scribbles and other things, all from my dear niece we lost too soon. and then there is the most random box, with a license plate and an old copy of macbeth and all the bits from high school physics projects and all the photos i took and some i stole from photo albums, all the things that remind me of my brother. and so many other random things from all the people i've lost and are gone forever.

so yes, i suppose that's why i really save all that i do. because i'm afraid to forget. memories are not something i can rely on. they twist and confuse me. my mind plays tricks on me. it's really the part of me that i know is not quite right, the part that can't keep the past straight. but with physical things, it's easier to hold them and remember what really happened.

the outside world is a scary place

confession time, and because this is what keeps running through my head lately:

i don't like people. i don't like talking to people or being around them or having to deal with them in most capacities. i nearly have a panic attack when i have to call the school if the boys are sick. i get all flustered dealing with their doctors or dentists or friends' parents. i struggle to rsvp for parties they get invited to, simply because it means talking to somebody else. someone came into my house recently to explain to me how to use less electricity, part of a process to qualify for help with my bill, and all i could do was stare and nod answers to questions. when i have to go to cub scout functions with lumpy, i do my best to stand in the back and blend in with the wall. not an easy feat when i also have to wrangle fishie, though she gives me the perfect excuse to cut short any interactions with others.

i also don't like kids. well, i don't mean not my kids, though sometimes they are hard to handle, but mostly i don't like other people's kids. i don't know how to deal with them or what to say to them. i don't want to yell at them, i don't know how to discipline them, and i don't want to be accused of being "too friendly" with them. most of them are loud and messy and hyper, and i can barely deal with my own loud, messy, hyper children. at least i know what i can do and say to my own kids to get them to settle down. other kids are a mystery to me, and i will stand quietly by and let them run amok because i don't know what to do and anything i want to say seems to me like i'd be interfering with whatever is going on.

there were times where i used to force myself to go out and about in the world. i hoped that if i had enough contact with random strangers and crowds of people, it would seem less terrifying over time.

it never really worked.

there were also times where i felt so stressed out that i couldn't deal with anyone, and so i wouldn't unless i absolutely had to. i can remember times where i wouldn't leave my house for days, where the only people i would see where my kids and my hubby. i would take the boys (this was long before fishie was born) and do all my grocery shopping at walmart at 2am on a wednesday because the only other people in the store besides us would be the stockers, and they were too busy doing their job to want to make conversation.

the last few jobs that i had were ones where i didn't have coworkers, because then i didn't have to worry about trying to make mindless small talk. customers i can deal with because i help them with what they need and then they leave and i don't ever have to see them again. it's why, if i ever get another job, i'd probably chose to be a register monkey again. there's comfort in knowing that all i have to do is focus on the task at hand and keep my "how can i help you" fake smile plastered on my face.

i wish i could say, after all these years of trying, that it's gotten easier to go out and about in the real world. unfortunately it hasn't. there so many things that i'd like to do, and many more things that i'd like to do with my kids, but i know if i tried to go , i'd just be freaking out the whole time. the boys, at least, are getting older now, so it's ok if we go and they run off to do an activity, and i can sit in the corner and mind their sister. and it's really not so bad if i have another grown up with me. the stress of taking the kids out in public coupled with the stress of being out in public myself is more than i can handle for more than an hour at a time.

that isn't to say that i never go out. or that i actively avoid letting my kids go out. mostly this confession is that i just hate going out. as much as i might complain about the fact that i have days where i don't talk to anyone other than my kids and my hubby, i still prefer it. but i do know how important it is for my children to get out into the world and interact with others. it is my hope that they don't end up like me. and so we go out, to the park and to playground and to other various activities. i might not like being there, but i know my kids do. just, if you see me, and i start acting weird, understand it's not you, it's me. me and my craziness.

compare, contrast, and change... all with a side of guilt

so there's been a lot of talk of change lately. how different people are doing different things, making positive changes in their family's lives. but change is hard, and for every thing worth doing differently, i have what i feel is an equally valid reason as to why i can't change it right now.

there are those that are going totally organic, or making everything from scratch. families that are spending as much time together as possible, or setting up specific times just for family time. those that are getting rid of tvs, and some that are doing arts and crafts together everyday. and then there are those parents that are just trying to yell less and read together more. those that are cleaning and organizing their homes, or volunteering and raising money for good causes.

and then there is me. i compare myself to all these parents and i feel so inadequate. i look at all the changes they're making and the good their doing, and i think how much better off my family would be and how much happier my kids could be if i could just be more like all those other parents.

it's hard enough for me to deal with the day to day without feeling totally overwhelmed. with my dear husband working and going to school, i don't get much help at home. so it falls to me to deal with bumble and all his school works, to find time to give him all the extra help he needs. and of course lumpy needs homework help too, though thankfully he can figure most things out that he brings home himself. and then there is my dear fishie, who is now three and needs all the supervision a normal three year old needs. also and as always, it falls to me to attend to the cleaning and laundry and cooking and shopping.

and so i sit and look around me and wonder why my house is a mess and my kitchen is filled with quick to make processed foods. why, though we have tons of books, i don't have time to sit and read to my kids every day as much as they'd like. the same goes with all the craft supplies that go unused and all the easy, kid friendly recipes that go unmade and all the games we don't sit and play.

so i feel tremendous guilt. i feel like i am somehow failing my kids. that they could be happier or healthier if only i was able to squeeze more into our days, to actually find a way to make all the good changes that it seems everyone else is making. with that also comes the extra special guilt that crops up when i wonder if, had i been more in-tune with my kids, i would have been able to help bumble more. that maybe somehow all the difficulties he has with school could have been prevented if i had done more with him or gotten him help sooner or sent him to a better school that had the resources to give him the special help he needs. in the debate over nature versus nurture, maybe it was my failings at nurturing from the very beginning that caused all of this.

but then that line of thinking is exactly what goes through my head when i remember fish and all her medical fun. and it's worse with lumpy, because he ended up in the hospital twice for a week at a time with me supposedly "caring" for him. what kind of care was he getting from me exactly?

but then, this is the way it always is in my head. i compare myself to all the happy families i see, and then i think that, if it wasn't for me, my family could be that happy too. my kids could be happy and healthy and satisfied with life if they had a more together and in-tune mom. unfortunately for them, they are stuck with me and all my short comings.

and yes, i know, the glimpses i see of other families don't necessarily mean that they really and truly are happier and better off than we are. and what i'm dealing with is terrible mommy guilt. i might not be perfect, but i am trying. we might not read or play games everyday, but we make time when we can. and though i don't always have the patience to have fish help me in the kitchen, i let her help when we're taking cakes to visit family. and it's totally ok that our house doesn't look magazine perfect, because this clutter suits us better.

i like to believe that, if i asked them, my kids wouldn't trade me for any other mommy out there, even with my imperfections and all.

labels

in my past, i have been labeled many things. and because of those labels, it changed people's notions of who i was. and, even worse, i let myself be changed by them. i would try to grow into a label that didn't quite fit, instead of fighting against it or ignoring it completely, which, in hindsight, is obviously what i should have been doing all along.

so i've rallied against them. i do my best to not label people, to let them show me who they are and what they can do, instead of grouping them in with all the other people that they seem like, stamping them all with the same label, and dismissing anything extra they might possess or be. in short, i think labels are bad and i try not to use them.

and yet, i know find myself in the strange position of working hard to label my dear bumble. i want him to be rubber stamped and categorized, because that seems to be the only way he'll get the help he desperately needs.

i love him dearly, and he has many talents and strengths, but school is not one of them. not all of school, and certainly not the experience as a whole. he makes friends, delights his teachers, and sets a good example by working hard and doing his best. and honestly, he's good at math, numbers are his strong suit. it's all those pesky letters that trip him up.

last year he was in a different school. and there he learned to spell by memorizing lists of words. and it was easy to get him to practice by writing and rewriting that list, then quizzing him on it and making him write the ones he missed again. this year, at this new school, they don't use rote memorization to teach spelling, they use a phonics system. it's a system all the kids were introduced to in first grade, and bumble, who is in third, had to learn not only the new lessons but how the whole system worked.

and he just doesn't get it. and i've tried to help him, but it's one of those things in my head where things just are the way they are. like, if there is a silent e at the end of a word it makes the other vowel long, just because that's how it works. so it's hard for him to wrap his head around because i can't really explain it to him.

but it's extra hard because, for his tests, he's supposed to spell the words by saying them out loud and figure our the letter combinations by how the word sounds, all according to the phonic rule he studied that week. but how is he supposed to sound out words if he can't say them correctly? i mean, he sees a speech therapist for an hour a week because he can't sound out word like everyone else. so even though he tries his best, he's barely passing spelling.

and because he can't speak properly and sound words out, and because there also seems to be some break down in his comprehension, he is failing reading. there are levels set by the school, and there are guidelines set by the state, and he sees a reading specialist to try and help him catch up. because he isn't just a little behind, according to all the guidelines he's only reading at a second grade level. like the latest tests he took, he scored at level 20 (whatever that number really means). by the end of second grade/beginning of third, he was supposed to be a level 28. by the end of third, he supposed to be a 42 or something ridiculous. sadly, he's so far behind, i haven't even bothered to see where he's supposed to be grade level wise at this point. his brother, lumpy, who is in second grade, recently tested at level 24. bumble has started bringing home the same books his brother brought home months ago. so you can imagine how fun this is to deal with when faced with competitive brothers.

i am at a loss with all of it. i try to help him. we practice practice practice at home. he does his regular homework, his speech homework, and extra worksheets we've found to try and help him catch up. because i keep desperately hoping that something finally clicks and he just gets it. because he loves school and loves to learn and tries so hard, he definitely deserves to get it.

unfortunately, i've finally accepted that he's probably not just going to get it. that, as much as i love him, there is something not quite right going on in his brain. and so now his teachers, his specialists, and i are working toward getting him a label. because he's getting all the help they can give at school, unless he's labeled with a learning disability. because until they can say exactly what programs he needs, according to his label, then he can't have access to any of them.

this broken system breaks my heart. and as much as i don't like it, i know it's best and the right thing for him. looking toward the future, it's what needs to be done.

the hardest part of motherhood...

...is trying to answer "why?"

bad things happen to good people, and that is a fact of life. things just happen sometimes, not through any fault of anybody, not because they deserve it or were expecting it or planned contingencies for it.

and sometimes terrible things happen to truly innocent people. and that's when it's the hardest, trying to explain how it was a once in a million situation, something that no one every really thought could or would truly happen.

it happens that while you're driving along down the highway of life, sometimes the bad just sideswipes your car and runs you off the road and speeds off into the distance before you can exchange insurance info. and the trick is to try and not live in fear of the what-ifs. even though there is bad in this world, we must try and find the good. we must strive to look for the light in our darkest days.

these concepts are hard for adults to embrace, but it's a million times harder for kids to understand. and so they turn to their parents and ask that magical little word: why? and sometimes it's hard to admit that we just don't know. though when we try to explain, we leave out the unspoken truth: one day bad things will happen to you too. and you'll have to try and pick yourself back up and put all the pieces back together and move on. but you can't let fear and worry rule your life and ruin your day. because worry doesn't stop bad things from happening. the best we can do is surround ourselves with people who love and support us, who will help us when we need it most.

there are so many answers to the question of why, things that we say and things that we left unsaid. our job as parents is to prepare our children for life, all the while trying to reassure and comfort them. and at the end of the day, all we can do is hope that our efforts were enough.