I’m having a hard time blogging lately.

I open the browser.  I write.  Sometimes I even write a lengthy post.  Then I stop, look at what I’ve written, and either leave it in the drafts unfinished, or just delete it entirely.

Everything I write seems like just so much drivel lately.  I used to love blogging, and would do so several times daily, as I came across articles, or had thoughts, that I thought would be entertaining enough to blog about.  I’m sad, actually, that I am not finding as much to blog about anymore.

Then again, I don’t find a lot of things as entertaining as I used to, thanks to the work God has done in my life.

In the last week or two, we’ve decided that it’s time for me to go back to work.  It’s not what I WANT to do, but doing so will alleviate a lot of stress financially, and with Hubs’ job.  Things have gotten stressful enough at his job that today, chest pains brought us to the ER for a nice, long visit, and then an admission for overnight observation.   A couple of the jobs he’s considering are consulting jobs, that would include out-of-town travel, and better pay, but the benefits are super expensive.  Me working ensures better benefits, and, if necessary, a paycheck while he finds something less stressful.  It’s a leap I am not thrilled to be making, but I know God will work it all out for good.   I KNOW that.  Doesn’t make it easier to think of leaving my baby, even with family and friends, all day while I work.

Since making that decision, I’ve made a few other choices.  I have dropped my BSF class, which is sad, but it was also two hours worth of homework .  I skipped Hearts and Moms the last two weeks, instead spending time with my Grandma, and helping a friend out who needed someone to watch her kids while she went to a doctor’s appointment.  Strangely, it felt really freeing.  While I missed some of my friends, I didn’t miss getting up, rushing to get to church, and then feeling like 1/2 my day was gone.  Plus, my house was really clean.  Clean house equals happy me.

I thought, to some extent, I would feel more separated from God, without that ‘spiritual food’ to keep me in sync.  Strangely, not at all.  I’ve actually kept up on my Bible reading, and felt more relaxed, and therefore closer to God – so maybe He has taught me a lesson here.  Less is more, do what I like to do (media), and don’t stress about the other stuff!  We’ll see what that means in the future, especially as I go back to work.

And now, I’m actually going to hit publish on this post, despite it not being anything I’m thrilled with, and go back to watching America’s Funniest Videos for the 5th hour with my hubby.

Why don’t they make hospital chairs more comfy???

It started out a while back.

She stopped wanting to eat.

She stopped sleeping.

She had this wracking cough – horrible to hear, worse to see, as her frail body convulsed and she gasped for air.

Night sweats followed, as did the complete lack of interest in continuing to live.

She lost weight.

Her children came…meetings  were had, tempting meals were made, final decisions were legalized. 

And then she perked up.  She got better.  She reacted to the meds and the attention.  Things looked better.  A little more time was stolen.

On Monday she was put on oxygen full time.  I haven’t been to her house to see.  In my mind’s eye, I see the image of my grandfather, tethered to an oxygen hose that was long enough to reach from his bedroom, to his chair in the living room, and into the kitchen.  He would walk a few feet at a time, stop to rest, and continue on…a pale image of the rugged man he once was.  A pale image of the grandfather, cigarette in hand, who had stepped in and been the only real father figure I knew growing up.

Now she has the same sentence.  Oxygen, at all times.  She didn’t want to leave her house before – too much hassle, and too easy to sit in her chair, reading or watching tv. 

On Friday, a different call.

Lung cancer.  She has lung cancer.  She doesn’t know yet.  The call was courtesy of my mother, who has medical POA, and also works with the doctor she saw.  So no timeline yet, no difficult conversation with my her yet, but the rest of the family knows.

Ironically, my grandfather never had lung cancer.  60 + years of smoking, and he died of emphysema and COPD.  It was a horrific death…his lungs collapsed on several occasions, and the chest tube to help them reinflate was horribly painful for him.  In the end, that was what led to his death – he refused to have it done again.  He made them let him slip away – the opposite lung unable to compensate.

I can’t help thinking how he would feel…to know the woman he was married to for 49 years is dying of lung cancer.  She never smoked – and sure, there are lots of ways to get lung cancer, particularly when you grew up in the generation that found out a little too late that asbestos was bad. 

But let’s face it.  She was around his smoking every day for 49 years.  What are the odds?

And so the bumpy road begins.  When my mother and I talked yesterday, I was too in shock to take in her emotional state.  My husband immediately asked how mom was doing – and I realized my insensitivity.  I called her, and immediately asked  how she was.  She instantly broke down in tears.  There she was, not my mom in that moment, just another woman facing the death of HER mommy.  She is terrified of the suffering she knows is coming.  She is a respiratory therapist…she sees this every single day.  She doesn’t want her mother to go through that.

But this is the road we are on.

My grandmother mused a few months ago, when this was initially starting to happen…what if she didn’t hear God’s voice after she dies?  We’ve struggled with that – was it a statement of lack of faith?  Was it just a silly musing?  Is she really worried? 

As one younger in the faith, in a family where we are all firmly convinced we know the correct answer and everyone else is wrong, I’ve been hesitant to ask her.  She has her own image she wants me to see…one firmly and unwaveringly faithful…a life given to Christ at the age of 9…but I don’t know.

She’s my grandma, and this is going to be a rough road.  My mother had projected, before this diagnosis, that Thanksgiving was unlikely…Christmas EXTREMELY unlikely.  And I don’t know.  I don’t know what that looks like.  I know our family (Extended) has decreased in closeness quite distinctly since my grandfather died.  I know it will be worse when my grandmother goes.

So I mourn her life light dimming, and I mourn what is to come.  I mourn my family, and the end of traditions that were a mainstay of my life growing up. 

We can make new traditions, as difficult as that seems.

But my grandma…not being part of them…I just don’t know how that goes.

I came home from lunch with the Hubs ealier to find yet another email from Pez’s teacher about his (lack of) homework completion.  I quickly responded, thinking once again, we’re going to have to have a chat about it.  I laid down to take a nap with BonBon.  As I laid down, I knew I only had about an hour or so to sleep before I had to get up to pick Lemon Drop up from school.  Anytime I know I have to be up for something I can’t miss, I sleep less deeply, always keeping an eye on the clock. 

I know I woke up at 2:44, glanced at the clock, and drifted back to sleep, and then, the dream started. 

But I didn’t know I was dreaming.

::in the dream::

I woke up to go get Lemon Drop at school, only to hear Hubs out in the kitchen.  I walked out and asked him if he had by chance picked Lemon Drop up at school, since it would have been on his way home, and he came home at the time she was getting out of school.  Nope, he hadn’t, so I still needed to go get her.  As I started to go downstairs to get in my car, I realized the boys were coming upstairs, but something wasn’t right.  In my mind, Pez was just a little dirty, but as I saw him coming upstairs, I told him no – come with me, we need to talk about the email from your teacher.  We headed downstairs and into the boys’ section of the basement, and I sat down on a couch (that isn’t really there) to bring up the email again and talk to Pez about his homework.  As I look up, I notice there is blood all over Pez’s face, neck, shirt, etc.  There’s also blood all over the wall, and blood on Peeps.  Of course, I was freaked out, and asked them WHAT HAPPENED???  Pez tells me that he had a bike accident on the way home from school (which couldn’t happen – he doesn’t ride his bike to school, but dreams are stupid that way), but it’s fine – Peeps fixed him up.  As I look up at him, there’s just more and more blood – so I sent him up to Hubs, yelling for Hubs to come look at Pez. 

I turn to Peeps, and tell him he needed to come get us – that that wound is too severe, and he doesn’t know how to handle that.  Peeps is immediately defiant and angry at me – I DO TOO KNOW, he says – I HAVE A BADGE IN FIRST AID!!!  I reiterated to him – No – not something this severe, we need to call an ambulance!  And he keeps telling me no – he has already taken care of it – Pez is fine, he did what is supposed to be done!  And he’s just so ADAMANT.  As I try to get my point across to him about how serious this is, it just gets more and more elevated, to the point that I’ve pushed him down on the ground, and I am trying to get him to look me in the eye so he will understand how serious it is, and he won’t look at me….

..and that’s when I woke up. 

I felt wretched.  My heart was pounding.  My stomach was churning.  It really was time to get up and go get Lemon Drop.  It had been 20 minutes since I last looked at the clock. No alarm went off – I just finally pulled out of it – but I couldn’t shake the feeling of panic, dread, and FEAR that gripped me at seeing all the blood on Pez.

It’s funny, because as I was REALLY driving to pick up Lemon Drop, I thought – well, if you EVER needed proof that I really love my step-kids, that dream was it, because the sheer level of panic at seeing your child with that kind of a wound can only come from a parent’s heart – but bleh – it was just all so…AWFUL. 

I did a lot of rebuking on the way to Lemon Drop’s school.  I did a lot of praying, and praising God.  Only when I turned on some worship music did the feeling finally start to ease up – it was BAD. 

And now I’m mad.  I only have dreams like that when I’m in that dozing mode – apparently I am more susceptible then?  But there’s nothing at that point I can do to prevent it, and it makes me MAD to be attacked when I can’t do anything!  LOL

So now it’s written down anyway, and it has no power.  All my children are home, safe and sound, and I’m not even mad at Peeps (as often happens when I wake up from a dream that really bothers me!!) 

Bleh.  Stupid yucky dreams!

It has been a crazy hectic week.  Today, Monday, it is 9:15 AM, and I am still sitting here in my pjs.  This is extremely unusual, as I’ve made a point, since the week before school started, of being up at 6, showered and dressed by 6:30, making breakfast and  lunches and shuttling kids to and fro from 7:30 to 9-ish. 

BUT…

I have had a weekend of nothing but go go go.  I’ve served at church for a good portion of the weekend, and then had various other committments and things to do, that ended up making my Sunday NOT very quiet or restful.  I’m also a pretty strong introvert.  I’d be happy as a clam with a  good book and not seeing anyone for weeks.  It’s just how I roll.  It’s not that I don’t like other people, it’s just…very tiring to me when I don’t have alone time.  And I haven’t had real ALONE time since I had my migraine a week ago!  (And seriously?  Not enjoyable then.)

The rest of this week, and over the weekend, we’ve got hefty plans, so I am taking today to rest.  Obviously, I still have my munchkin to care for, but I’m just going to hang out in pjs if possible, do my Bible study and reading for book club, MAYBE make some bread (which is enjoyable and relaxing to me), and just chill out today.  We are catering a wedding on Saturday, and there is a slight chance we will need to do some shopping and prep for that today, but maybe not.

But my goal today is REST. Worship. Some quiet time with God.

and a nap. 

I had a hard time getting up this morning.  I was in bed, snuggled under the covers, next to my very warm husband, with soft, comfy pillows, and NOTHING I had to get done this morning – aside from getting kids up and moving.  I also knew, while a shower would feel great, getting out of the shower would be FREEZING.  So I just stayed where I was, a little longer than normal.

I started thinking about motivation. 

A little later, I was listening to pandora, when ‘Come, Now is the time to Worship” came on, and while I do like that song, one line bugged me.  “Still the greatest treasure remains for those who gladly choose you now.”  It bugs me.  I don’t do what I do to serve my Lord, my King, my God – because of what He will give me later.  I do it because I am in relationship with Him, because I LOVE Him, and because I want to meet the needs of His people.  If your parents have something they need done, you don’t do it because of what they will do for you, you do it because it needs to be done.

I remember feeling this way when I was a teenager.  I took confirmation classes in the church I grew up in, and there was so much emphasis on ‘storing up treasure in heaven’…what??  Jesus IS my treasure! 

I think this is part of what is frustrating me particularly in one of the situations in our life right now.  We can see work that needs to be done.  But our hands and feet are bound up in red tape, waiting for the ok to do it.  I don’t think God wants us to wait for an ok.  But at the same time, He’s certainly capable of removing the hindrances if He chooses.

So we wait.  Our motivation is to serve.  Our motivation is to meet the need of God’s people, even if it’s not perfect. 

I’m just not so certain the motivation of others is where it should be.

So, we have reached an impasse. 

My husband (who is awesome, and whom I thank God for) and I volunteer in a variety of capacities in a variety of places.  Ok, well, mainly one place right now, but we are considering ‘spreading the love around’ a little, and starting something new.  Today, I think, we may have received the push we needed to venture off on the new path.  I’m not sure, it’s in Hubs’ hands right now, so we shall see what he decides.

One of our areas of service has been in a holding pattern for awhile, and Hubs has had a great deal of heartache and unrest over it.  Despite A LOT of prayer, tonight it may have come to a head, and a conversation that was meant to ease concerns we’ve voiced - well – didn’t.  There were a couple of comments that were made that were not well received, and it’s time to evaluate whether – in the grand scheme – it’s worth it. 

At the same time, another opportunity, doing a similar function in another area of need has come up, and maybe it’s time to pursue that.  It would be less volume, but more frequent, with less oversight, for people who would not only really appreciate it, but really need it. 

So…prayers have been said, for weeks in fact, and perhaps this is the answer.

Funny, but…while a part of me would be really, really sad to leave the old arrangement, part of me is also really incredibly stoked about the new thing, and the lack of politics that appear to surround it.

When I say we have tried EVERYTHING, I mean it.

Really. We have.

My kids, in the grand scheme, don’t have THAT much that they are asked to do around the house. That’s the benefit of having five children – the ‘to do’ list gets spread around pretty well, and nobody has too much expected of them.

Aside from the obvious – keeping their rooms tidy, making their beds *most* mornings, the kids are randomly asked to take out the garbage, unload the dishwasher, do the dishes – usually this is a task for two. But ONE day per week, I have them do a household chore that benefits the whole house. This is an important thing for us, because first of all, in a household of 7 people and 2 large, shedding dogs, the ‘deeper clean’ needs to be done often, and second, we really feel it is important for them to take responsiblity and service to the family seriously. Oh – and third, we do want them to know how to do these things when they are on their own. No son of mine is going to marry anyone without fully being capable of doing every chore ever deemed as ‘woman’s work’! Ok, with the exception of actually building and pushing out a child – but that can’t be helped.

Here is the struggle. Thursday is generally chore day around here. Thursday is the day that I ask our children to do their one deep clean chore – which MAX should take 30 minutes to an hour per chore. In fact – the list of chores they do were ALL the chores I was expected to do in my house growing up – by myself. So it’s nothing ridiculous. I am not asking them to scrub grout with a toothbrush, paint frescos on the ceiling, retile the bathroom, or anything of the like. They are asked to dust and vacuum, clean the bathroom, sweep and scrub the stairs – simple things.

And yet, EVERY.SINGLE.WEEK, with 3 of my children, this is a fight. If I am not standing over them, supervising every moment, they simply will not work.

Today, Hubs had a rather rough day at work. I had to go get him, since we’re sharing cars right now, and I asked the kids – VERY nicely- before I left if they would PLEASE – because their father had such a hard day – PLEASE get their jobs done while I was gone. PLEASE. I pretty much begged.

I picked up Hubs, I took him out for a beer so he could decompress before we went home (and to give the kids a little more time to finish), and we came home.

They had over TWO HOURS to get their chores done. And understand – the kitchen was basically clean when I left, just needed the counters wiped down, sink scrubbed, shelves dusted, floor scrubbed. Living room just needed to be dusted, swept, and scrubbed. Entry way and stairs – again – sweep, vacuum, scrub – not hard. All of those are chores for different children, btw – so can be done contiguously.

NONE OF THEM WERE DONE.

I don’t know WHY I type that as if I was surprised. I guess, on some level, I just thought – if it was for their dad – not me – that they would really do it.

Nope.

So once again, I sit here, frustrated. I will give this to God, again, and I will ask for improvement. My kids aren’t bad kids – in fact, they’re awesome 95% of the time – particularly if anyone else asks them to do something.

But at home, if asked to do a chore? Nope.

Grrrrrrrrr. (For the record – 7 years of this. 7 years of the EXACT SAME PROBLEM.)

a new word jumps into your life.  It’s a word that may redefine…everything…or nothing…or something just very difficult. 

The word is dysgraphia, and it has to do with the struggle our 11 year old has on a daily basis at writing at the expected level for his age.  Now – when I say writing – I’m not just talking about the content of his sentences and sentences within paragraphs.  I am talking mainly about physically how he writes – always in fragmented sentences, words pushed together with no space between, letters large and scraggly  – too large – like those of a child who is just learning them.  B’s and D’s still written interchangably.  But mostly…it’s just illegible and looks like a 2nd grader wrote it.  And that includes the content.

When asked to write in cursive, if he’s had his medication, it’s different.  His handwriting isn’t amazing, but it’s a far cry from print.  It falls probably more along the lines of lazy 5th grade – but it still lacks actual content.

SO today I started the process with his teacher of exploring what special services he may qualify for.  I don’t know if they will give him special ed time to work on handwriting, or to teach him techniques for holding the pencil differently, or what.  Basically what it comes down to is the number of things most of us just completely take for granted that are planning functions done by our brain – they come harder to him.  He DOES have to think about them, and it’s HARD!  I’ve researched a bit tonight, and found several citations where not only are students given special considerations as they struggle through their work, but special focus, accomodations on note taking and testing…things that can help.

And this is another of my ruts – because I really want the kids to function WITHOUT that help.  I want them to learn to manage their time and there homework, and their handwriting, and everythign ON THEIR OWN – without somebody making it easier for them. Becaues really – life isn’t going to make it easier!  But…if it’s a matter of get the help, or fight this fight another 7 years?   Yeah, get the help.

So we shall see where this goes.  bleh.

I feel like I’m in a rut lately – like this blog is all wah wah wah all the time!

What it comes down to is, I started my new routine a week before school started - and I don’t feel like I have hit my stride yet.  It hasn’t become natural, and I hate that feeling.  I mean, barring nights with no sleep, I am back in the swing of things, getting up at 6, getting breakfast and lunches made, keeping up wtih cleaning and laundry, and keeping my 2-year-old reasonably educationally entertained through the day. 

The thing holding me back is my older kids, and I hate to admit it, my husband.  While I planned out our new schedule, and posted it for everyone to see, it has not been embraced by everyone!  Hubs still gets moving whenever he feels like it, which throws a wrench in the morning transportation plans since we have three drivers and two cars, and everyone’s needs have been SCHEDULED, PER MY SCHEDULE, but others are not following it. 

The ‘middle kids’ also aren’t getting up when they are supposed to, even when woken up, and that causes problems.  On mornings when I am baking or making a more involved breakfast, I do plan on their help for making lunches, or watching BonBon, or helping out with other things.  When they don’t get up, I get no help.  I also have stated the expectation to them that before they leave for school, they are to bathe if necessary, dress in CLEAN clothes (I ask SOOO MUCH), tidy their bedroom and make their bed.  Given that they are all SUPPOSED TO BE up at least an hour and 15 minutes before they leave, this should be no problem.  Alas, it is. 

So I have been really, really frustrated by this, and today, I kind of exploded.  I got up at 6, showered and dressed for the day (make-up and all!), and went out to the kitchen to make pumpkin scones for breakfast.  I needed help.  The trash was never taken out last night – which is NOT OK when it was overflowing the can, and we’ve had a mouse running around.  As the morning ticked past, and nobody got up, I got more and more steamed. 

At 6:45, kids started showing up – you know – once they could smell the pumpkin scones baking.  I decided at that moment – everybody who got up late did not get scones, and I wasn’t making their lunch!  (I am such a big meanie.)  That meant two kids had to scramble to get their lunches put together, and one didn’t eat breakfast.  I feel bad, but at the same time, I am struggling with how to get through to them that I am serious.  Their continued choice to ignore not only the schedule I have set, but also my expectations for what they get done before and after school feels like complete disrespect.

The thing is, I know they don’t MEAN to hurt me by what they’re doing.  They don’t really MEAN to be disrespectful.  They just don’t care. 

SO, I unloaded on Hubs this morning, and I think he gets where I am coming from.  He has set his alarm for tomorrow, and will be getting up on time. (I have explained to him that he IS setting an example, and it does make a difference when he doesn’t get up when he should.  Obviously, there are allowances for when he has to work all night, but on a day-to-day, he’s going to make a better effort to follow the schedule.)

Tonight, the kids will be putting together their cards which explain what they are supposed to do every morning before school, in the afternoon, and before bed.  Hubs thinks having flip cards, which they can go through and remind themselves, will help.  (He did this in the past when I was working out of town, and had success with it.)

So I am optimistic.  I want this house running like the well-oiled machine I dream of.  Will it be perfect all the time?  Probably not.  But…I just keep hoping we can get there.

If not, this rut is gonna kill me!

(PS, the supermommyness category was used just to counteract Ren’s dislike of the FAILMOM category!)