I know I know

It's been forever since I posted, I know. My schedule has been very inconvenient to my desire to write lately. And those pesky kids always want fed, THREE times a day, the nerve! I also just really haven't had anything profound to say, I'm just living life on life's terms, trying to fit in 30 hours of life in a 24 hour day. I'm also finally making progress on potty-training the Tyrant, and really, that just takes up your entire day. If you don't have kids, you won't believe me, but other parents will agree with me on this one.

Spring is here, so I'm mourning the loss of winter. I'm already missing the heavy sweaters and crisp snowy air. Sigh. I will content myself with the joy of sitting on the swing in the backyard for my prayer time, and watching my skin freckle.

God has been changing me in some neat ways the last few months. Years ago I heard Joyce Meyer say that "Wisdom is doing now, that which will satisfy me later." I have been reminding myself of this every time I choose to go to bed at a decent hour, or take daily time to pray and study the Bible, or get up early to exercise. None of these things come naturally to me, but God has been helping me to change into a person who does them.

In other news, the Princess is having a very busy week. On Monday night she sang in the chorus for the District Music Festival, something she had been preparing for for several months. She did a beautiful job, and we were so proud as we sat in the audience. On Thursday she will be at Reading Olympics, another honor that does us proud. Her soccer season (and the Boy's) also starts this week, and let's throw in a dermatology appointment and a trip to the orthodontist to get her bottom braces on, shall we? Poor kid, her calendar is starting to look like mine.

The Man and I have been at the new church for nearly 18 months, which is hard to believe already. I'm still dealing with emotions towards our old church, and working through them. I keep thinking that I need to let that go, but things fester for some reason. We'll be back there later this week for a funeral, and as much as I want to attend the service, I kind of dread drawing any attention to ourselves since we have been gone so long. People seemed somewhat supportive in the beginning, but these days if I post anything on Facebook talking about church events, or something I'm excited about, none of the folks from my old church respond. I find myself getting annoyed, can't they just be happy for us?

I can't control what other people think, and really, what they think is none of my business anyway. I know that, and on a certain level, I accept that. I wish it didn't bother me, or annoy me, to be more specific. I think that's why I find myself going around with things in my mind over and over, because I have resentments left over from our time there. I hear rumors of things going on there now, and I admit that I think, 'See? This is WHY we left!"

I know that's not fair. We stayed there for a long time when we had a choice to leave. I feel good about when we left, because we waited until God made it clear that it was time to move on. I don't need to have some chip on my shoulder about it, and I frequently am pushing said chip off, only to find it creeping up again later. Anger is one of my worst trigger emotions, and something I struggle with all the time. I know I need to let things go, if only for my own mental health.

Going to go out into the sunshine now, and enjoy the spring breeze...

God Bless the Broken Road

So I mentioned the other day that I have to wear a bridesmaid dress this July.

The Man and I are taking a course called The Truth Project, and if you haven't taken it yet and you're a Christian, I highly recommend it. I won't try to describe it - you need to just watch the trailer for it and you'll see why: Truth Project.

This week the topic was history, and Dr. Del Tackett spoke about the big picture. This is something I actually think about a lot, because it brings me comfort to know that when things go wrong in my life, God has an amazing way of using them in a greater story. I may not see most of that story until He shows me the home movies in Heaven, but sometimes I get glimpses that give me goose bumps.

When we lost Lily eight years ago one of the ways that God brought me comfort was that I really never questioned why it had happened to us. I went through all of the grief and sorrow, but I never asked God why He let it happen. I know that only the Holy Spirit can give you that kind of peace, because I honestly cannot say how I could never question Him about this. I just didn't. I knew that our loss brought the Man and I closer to each other, and closer to God. I knew that He would work beauty from our ashes. I couldn't begin to imagine how He would, but one step at a time, He did.

Follow along with me.... The miscarriage led me to look for a support group. I couldn't find one locally, so I looked online and found one. I met wonderful women who had also experienced loss, and many of us moved on from that group into another one for women who were trying to get pregnant again. When I got pregnant with the Boy, I moved on to another group for moms who were due in March of 2002. Some of the women from the loss group also came with me, and we shared the joy of being pregnant again. At the same time I found a group for Christian stay at home moms, and began forging relationships there as well. Many of the moms in that group were involved with MOPS, an organization that I had never heard of before. I looked and found a local MOPS group, and began attending their meetings. It was there that I met Kate, who is one of my most favorite people.

Kate and I began hanging out and getting to know each other pretty well. This led to me talking to her about our church situation and our unhappiness there. I said I just would really like to find a good Bible study, because I wasn't learning anything at our church. She promptly invited me to come to hers at BFC. I have been in that Thursday morning group ever since. Two years later, when the Man and I finally made the decision to leave our church, BFC was the first and only place we looked. We knew immediately that it was a great fit for us, and everything we had been looking for in a church.

This led to several other families from our old church hearing about BFC, checking it out, and also attending there steadily ever since. (Disclaimer: these families were already searching, and their decisions to leave our old church were for their own reasons. The Man and I had no influence over their decisions, we just said that this was where we were going and why we liked it.) This also led me to invite a couple who were struggling with some things. They were from our same old church. They had made some incredibly bad decisions, and their sins were coming back to bite them. (I can certainly relate to that.) I suggested that a fresh start could be helpful. They've been coming to BFC ever since. A few weeks ago, during a meeting with one of the pastors, they gave their lives to Jesus. In spite of their previous time in church, they really had never taken that step. They got engaged a few weeks ago, and the bride asked me to be one of her bridesmaids.

When Del Tackett said that we should look at the big picture, I couldn't help but think that my daughter Lily must be rejoicing in Heaven today, knowing that her death sent us down a broken road that ultimately led us to so many good things. God could see all of this ahead of time, and He knew how this story would play out. Maybe it's presumptuous of me to think this way, or maybe the writer in me likes to see things in the form of a grand storyline. I had never needed a reason why for Lily's death, but if I had to lose her for two people to find their way to Jesus, I can rejoice in the small part that I played.

Harper

I'm still loving our new pup. Mostly. She is still cute and docile and sweet, but I think I'm finally on to her game. She pretty much does what she wants, and I'm starting to think that she believes she is feline with the level of ignoring that's going on.

First thing in the morning when I call her to go out, she is all joy and ear-flapping, and trots right out there. By night time however, she's kind of like the Man after a long day of work: dragging around, creaky. I call her to go out, no response. I call her again, and I see maybe an eyeball flitter. I repeat my half of this dance endlessly, and she rotates between looking bored, and digging further into the couch. I then walk over to her, my voice growing ever higher pitched, as I attempt to convince her that going outside to pee in 14 degree weather is, in fact, a really super fun idea. She of course does not buy this, but does raise her head enough to indicate that petting would be acceptable now.

I then take her by the collar (gently, I swear) and attempt to lead her (read: drag) from the couch. This is where her Gandhi skills emerge, as she flops to her side in a passive aggressive stance. No amount of squeakyness on my part will prompt her to get up and walk to the door. I give up, pick the tiny thing up and go plop her out the door.

If that was painful to read, then take heart, because you got the easy part. This process being repeated every night is so stinking ex.as.per.ating. On another note, we've changed her name from Phoebe to Harper. I'm no longer worried about confusing her with this change, because she clearly could care less how we address her, so long as she doesn't have to move. And when it comes to cool pet names, I think Harper is the cat's pajamas of beagle names. (See what I did there?) My literary nerd euphoria was short-lived, however, when the Princess said, "Oh cool, Harper! Just like on Wizards of Waverly Place!" (Why yes, I did just die a little inside, thanks for asking.)

The Mighty Quilt

Remember forever ago when I said I had been working on a denim quilt since the dawn of time? Well it's done! It really is quite lovely, and the Man has said that the sheer weight of it pins him to the bed, causing him to sleep more soundly than he has in years.

That's also new paint & curtains in our bedroom, feel free to admire.

Ned Flanders would be proud

We joined our new church! *applause*

The Man and I took the new member's class and officially joined our church before Christmas. There isn't much else to say about that, but I wanted to share because I'm ridiculously happy about it. What I can say though, is that the Man and I are considering being baptism. We were both baptized as babies, he when he was 3 days old, since he was a preemie and they didn't know if he would survive. I was baptized in my grandmother's Presbyterian church when I was a month or so old.

So if we were baptized as babies, why are we considering doing it again? Because the Bible says that we should. (Acts 2:38) I've believed in Jesus as my Savior since I was 5 years old, and I recommitted my life to him after the Princess was born. But my baptism came before that, and it had very little to do with me really. The Man accepted Jesus around 8 years ago, and he appears more ready to be baptized than I do, which is surprising if you know us. I think my one hang-up is that in my mind I see baptism as something that new believers do, and I'm not a 'new' believer. In addition, we've just come out of many years in a Presbyterian church that did not allow you to be re-baptized if you had been baptized as a baby. Having seen an elder be removed from Session after she violated that rule, I admit to feeling a bit squirmy about taking this step. I know that it's not really based on anything other than my own squirreleyness. (That is too a word!) I do feel as if He is drawing us to make this public proclamation, and really, what chance do I have in resisting the Almighty?

Psalm 30

Oh what a difference a few weeks can make! Well, a few weeks, a few hundred prayers, a pound of flesh and some coffee, if we're being thorough about this.

First on the list of updates is me, because it's my blog and I can talk about me first if I want to.

I'm completely unmedicated right now. I prayed a ton about everything that had been swirling around me, and decided that after 18 months on the rollercoaster, I wanted off. I know that this goes against what would seem wise, but I promise that I made this decision after careful prayer, thought, and thorough conversations with my husband and a friend. I need a break from the crazy side effects, of feeling weird and medicated, so I can tell how I'm really feeling. The Man and I agreed that if I began to sink back into depression again, that I would go to the psychiatrist and go back on meds. (I have also shared this with the women in our Care Ring, for the sake of accountability with them as well.) The depression has been cyclical for me in the past, and I knew that it could be possible that it was gone at this point. With only one way to find out, I weaned off my current prescription. And praise God, I feel amazing. I don't mean that I just feel ok, I mean I truly feel healed. My mind feels clear, and I feel able to handle life on life's terms right now.

I've been back at the gym consistently (ok, not this past week, but I've been sick with a horrid sinus infection, blech) and the exercise has been lifting my spirits even higher. I gained 25 pounds on my last prescription, yes 25! How is that supposed to make a girl feel less depressed I ask you?! Add that to the 20 pounds of *cough* baby weight *ahem* that was still hanging on. So I have a long ways to go before I'm back at a healthy weight. But I'm feeling much better about it, in the sense of needing to lose it to be healthy, rather than fussing about being a plump housewife. (Which reminds me, another post coming shortly about how I must fit my fluffiness into a spaghetti strap bridesmaid dress this July, eek!)

I was watching Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew recently, and he said something that really struck me. (I feel I need to put in a disclaimer here, that no one should take anything on that show without a grain of salt, because it is 'reality tv' after all!) He said that boredom for the addict equals depression. I thought about that for several days afterwards, realizing that maybe this was a part of my problem. The Man and I talked about it, and the short version is that we realized that I have been at home for too long. Long days with no structure and no one to answer to have not been good for me in the long run, and I need to change that. I'm updating my resume to include 8 years of stain removal and PB&J assembly, and am keeping an eye out for part time office work. In the meantime, I'm buckling down with my writing, and will hopefully be churning out the next great American novel soon. Or at least some magazine articles.

Now, onto the Boy.... This past week we finally had the feedback meeting with The Team (guidance counselor, teacher, school psychologist, myself & The Man) and it went very well. We got a rough copy of the evaluation report and the short version of the two dozen pages is that he is now qualified as 'other health impaired'. (They cannot legally diagnose him, so this is what ADHD falls under.) The guidance counselor has 10 days to write up the IEP (Individual Education Program) and send it to us for our approval. We are praising God that the Boy is finally getting an IEP, because with it he is protected legally by the state, provided certain rights and services that he otherwise could not get. We met with our family psychologist later in the week, and he gave us some great ideas and strategies on how to better parent the Boy, and how to build a better relationship with him. He had some ideas we had never considered, and it was really helpful. The doctor also has the copy of the evaluation report, and we'll see what he says about that when we go back in two weeks. The question of autism spectrum is still there, but it seems very unlikely to us based on the report. Either way, we are making great progress, and I am finally feeling empowered and able to help my son. What an amazing answer to prayer.

When you feel lost and helpless, it is easy to give up and hide your head in the sand. I let myself get beaten down, and I forgot that I have God on my side. If He is for me, who could possibly stand against me?

Sometimes I'm hiding away, from the madness around me, like a child who's afraid of the dark, but when I call on Jesus, all things are possible, I can mount on wings like eagles and soar... (Call on Jesus, Nicole C. Mullen)

Martin Luther King, Jr.

I think every American should watch this video, and today is the perfect day to do so. Martin Luther King, Jr. was an incredible man, and what an amazing legacy he left behind. I find it impossible to watch this speech without crying tears of sorrow and of joy at all that it represents. I see the people in the crowd, full of such hope & pain, and wonder if they could possibly comprehend what that speech would mean to future generations.

Phoebe

We got a new dog! Squee!

Her name is Phoebe, and she's a 6½ year old beagle. We got her from the West Jersey Volunteers for Animals, and she was originally a rescue from a shelter in the city. She is incredibly docile & sweet, and so far is getting along fine with Lucy. We wanted Lucy to have a companion, and Phoebe seems like a great choice.

*disclaimer* That is NOT our bed in that picture, that's a picture the foster mom took. My bed is always MADE, thankyouverymuch.

This & That

The Man has been meeting with the Mentor and it's going well. He's ordered himself a new study Bible, and we've been praying together as a family again. We've been communicating really well, and supporting one another in better ways. I'm feeling really good about where our marriage is, and I feel like we really are more in love than ever. Thank you God, because this is all Your doing, clearly!

The Princess was invited to participate in the District Music Festival, and we're so proud! She's an alto and has the sweetest voice. They have to get to school two hours early every Monday morning for two months to practice.

The Tyrant still refuses to use the potty. I have tried rewards, bribery, threats and insanity, and somehow none of these have worked. I'm thinking of hiring Jillian Michaels to motivate him.

The new church is still a big bowl of awesome and we couldn't be happier there. I am filling page after page of my study notebook with every new class & sermon. The Princess does 'PG Warriors' once a month, where they learn about prayer, keep a prayer journal and pray together. Have I mentioned the awesomeness?

A New Day

I'm very scattered lately. I have had several topics I wanted to write about, but never organized myself enough to do that. I'm tired, I'm stressed, I'm fighting the depression.... I'm always remembering after the fact that I need to let God carry these things for me.

The school psychologist called the other day and told me that she had the Boy's teacher fill out an autism spectrum checklist and the results came back high. I don't know how to respond to that. It's too much to think about, so for now it's in a cubbyhole in my mind. I filled out the one she sent home and tried not to over think my answers.

I'm lost in a sea of people.... guidance counselors, teachers, school psychologists, family psychologist, medical assistance people, social workers.... a sea of anonymous people who don't know my son the way that I do. I called my sponsor and told her how I was feeling, and that I had gone back to my doctor to change my anti-depressant yet again. The current one isn't working anymore, and it's making me sweat like crazy, along with odd muscle tics. He told me that I need to see a psychiatrist, because he has done all he can for me with the drugs that he is familiar with. I need to see someone with more knowledge, etc. I told her that I was annoyed about this, but fine, whatever, I'll find a new doctor and go. My sponsor asked me if I was open to therapy. I said if I had to that I would, but I didn't really see a need for it. My depression is just clinical, it's not based on anything going on in my life. She pressed me about this, asking if I would consider that maybe there was more to it than that. Looking at the conversation in hindsight, I don't know how I didn't realize this a long time ago. The harder things get with the Boy, the worse I feel. The more phone calls I need to make for him, the more I withdraw. I've been in this cycle of phone calls for two years, and one person after another sends me elsewhere, passing the buck, and not helping my son. I'm so angry, and I'm so frustrated, that I have withdrawn into this place where I do nothing for him, and instead he suffers and I suffer.

My sponsor asked how this was helping the Boy, and I broke. I tried for so long and got nowhere, and I gave up. Nothing was working so I felt like a failure and stopped trying. The worse it got, the more I spiraled, and now here I am; depressed, angry, and with a son who is still undiagnosed, and with no idea how to help him or myself.

I did what my sponsor told me to, and called my insurance company to find a new doctor. They told me to call the mental health coverage company. The mental health company told me to call the insurance company. The insurance company told me to call the mental health company. I told them that I already had, and got told that they would give a message to a supervisor, who has still not called me back. I just want to hide in my bed and not deal with any of this anymore.

God, help me to start over... grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can..... and the wisdom to know the difference.