The Golden Globes and Modesty: A Lesson For Violet

Posted on | March 1, 2013 | 6 Comments

Ok, so this is post is no longer timely, as the Golden Globes took place in …. January? But I’m feeling that old need to blog again, and this is still on my mind . . .

Violet is 9 1/2 years old and we keep her young. As young as possible. Some of the things we avoid include shows where the characters date — if she’s not of dating age we don’t think she should be watching shows where the characters are. We avoid shows with swearing – I was excited about Scott Baio’s new show (because, hello, Cha Chi!), but within the first 10 minutes he was saying ‘damn’ and ‘hell.’ This may not seem like much to you — and I’m not judging you for that. We just feel, for our children, it’s inappropriate. We’ve avoided, as best we can, the whole fat vs skinny deal and stressed being healthy. Last Spring we had to approach the needing a bra for the first time and buying clothing that I didn’t pick out off the rack at Target or Kohls. She and I have talked some – her leading the discussion – about what it feels like to ‘like’ a boy (maybe, she wasn’t sure. It was so ridiculously cute.).

But, we haven’t had to delve deep into modesty. She wears a uniform to school and dresses/skirts to church and mostly jeans and cute tops otherwise.

And then I had the bright idea to have her watch The Golden Globes Red Carpet show with me. Because the dresses and hair would be such fun for us to see together.

Ummmm . . .

I reached for the remote to change the channel as the first partially exposed breast popped (ha) up on the screen, only to discover it was in the other room. Violet’s eyes were huge and her mouth was hanging open. And I suddenly realized that this was the perfect, natural way to start a conversation about modesty, avoiding an awkward conversation started out of nowhere.

So I said, “Wow. Look at that. That dress is kind of low cut.”

She looked at me and said, “What is that crease on her chest? Are those breasts? Why is there a dent between them?”

Ahhh, cleavage.

So we had a discussion about cleavage. In which I had to demonstrate how it is made. Good times, people.

She wanted to know if she’d have that some day, and would she have to show it off?

When all the ‘key hole’ necklines started appearing she leaned forward and openly oogled the women. Then she turned to me, horrified, and said, “Is that the side of her breast? Will it fall out?” So we talked about fabric tape and how they were all taped in to avoid a ‘wardrobe malfunction.’

She had questions about how tight some of the dresses were and how the women could possibly walk in them. Then one of them tipped walking up some steps and we giggled together.

Then she said, “Why is that women dressed like a man? The one next to girl in purple hair?”

I busted out laughing, I will admit. She was talking about Kelley Osburne and Ross, who do the fashion 360* mirror deal. I told her his name was Ross and he most certainly was a man. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Mom. Listen to his voice! That is a woman!” I couldn’t argue that he sounded like a woman, so I just said that was just how his voice sounded.

We continued to have a great conversation about the dresses, the hair do’s and which ones she found pretty. Then Jennifer Lopez walked by.

Violet about choked.

She looked at me, completely shocked and said, “MOM! That woman is naked! On TV!”

I explained that she wasn’t naked, that there was a lining in the dress, so she was actually covered, it just looked like she was naked. Violet stared at J Lo some more and asked, “But WHY would you want to look naked? On TV? In front of people?” So we talked about how different people find different clothing appropriate. I did my absolute best to not be judgey while still teaching her what we find appropriate and what God finds appropriate.

It was so hard. What I wanted to say was, “You will NEVER dress like that! Turtle necks! Floor length skirts! Heavy tights! No make up! No skin! Most of these women look like whores!”

Instead, we acknowledged what parts of the dresses were pretty, what colors we liked. What hair do she’d like to try out. All in all, I have to say I feel like this was a parenting win. Every now and again we have those moments.

The sad part of this? The next night I watched some of Joan Rivers best and worst dressed review. Every single woman that was covered – that didn’t have cleavage up to her neck or her breasts exposed to her belly button, was ridiculed for not dressing appropriate to her age, for being dowdy and most were put on the Worst Dressed List. The women, namely Jennifer Lopez, who had exposed breasts and slits in their dresses up to their crotch, were declared to be ‘true Hollywood elegance,’ the ‘epitome of what a star should look like,’

Not that I would take Joan River’s advice on what to wear, but what a sad statement this is for our society.

Anyway, I’ll get off my soapbox now and tell you that while most of dresses did not impress me, I thoroughly enjoyed the Golden Globes themselves and think Tina Fey and Amy Pohler should host every single awards show from here on out.

Category: honesty, parenting, random, really?

Doing What I’m Told . . . And Trusting God

Posted on | January 4, 2013 | 10 Comments

I don’t even know how to begin this post. I’ve already started crying. But after talking with my therapist and psychiatrist they recommended that I write about it. So I’m going to listen and do what I’m told.

We’ve all written posts about Sandy Hook, have prayed and done random acts of kindness in honor of those precious lives.

It’s been 3 weeks since this horrific event.

It wasn’t me that lost the love of my life.

But I’m grieving more than I’ve ever grieved.

More than even my 3 miscarriages – which almost sickens me.

I’ve avoided all news about what happened – I’m at least smart enough to know that information will not help in this situation. I’ve managed to quickly scroll past pictures of those babies lost and descriptions of funerals, information on what actually happened.

And still, I’m plagued by intrusive thoughts of ‘what ifs’ and ‘oh, Jesus, why, why, why?’

I’ve stood in my shower and yelled at God, sobbed and started taking Xanax again at bedtime.

I have stopped crying every time I look at my children. But when I kiss them goodnight, when they are sleeping soundly in their beds, when they are warm, safe and wrapped in my love? I get choked up and my mind races.

The first thing I think of when my eyes open in the morning is the parents and the overwhelming grief they are experiencing.

Because when I first heard the news we all thought it was a kindergarten class that was lost, I immediately fixated on John – because he is in kindergarten and I volunteer in his classroom. And an entire class of these amazing little lives were gone.

Then I learned it was a first grade classroom. So I transferred my obsession to Sarah because she is in the first grade and I’ve been in her room, on field trips with these sweet, sweet children, and how could this be gone in an instant?

I’m completely aware that I’m transferring my worries, my fears, from one child to another. Which my therapist and psych say is a good thing. It means I’m paying attention to what my mind is doing and beginning to understand what my brain does when I’m overwhelmed with grief and fear.

I did give Sarah and Violet good, appropriate information on what happened. Violet heard some worrisome information while at dance and around older girls, but we talked about it and she was reassured. Since I couldn’t talk about it without crying, we also talked about grief and being sad about something when it hasn’t happened directly to you.

I’m talking to God about this constantly and holding onto the knowledge that this, somehow, in some way, is His plan. But, even with this knowledge, I question continually and argue that even one soul saved from this tragedy does not justify what happened.

I’m furious with God and this didn’t happen to me.

I’m grieving deeply and somewhat inappropriately for the parents, family and friends of these perfect lives lost.

I’m praying that by writing about it I will be able to get some of this grief out and onto this paper, pour it into this instead of into my heart and mind. When I write about my depression that is what happens – I’m able to acknowledge what happened and begin to move on. Perhaps this will be the same.

I don’t know yet, because I’m sitting here wiping tears off my face and feel no release.

The only thing I do know is I’ve cherished my children and our moments together more than I thought possible. I thought I cherished them before – I was mistaken. This injustice has taken my love for, my feeling of being blessed for my life and babies, my patience with them and acceptance of who they are to a whole new level.

But even if that is part of God’s plan from this – that we all experience these feelings? It’s not enough.

My heart breaks numerous times daily for Sandy Hook and all of the victims. I know it stretches across the country with relatives and friends of those incredible lives lost. I pray almost continuously for them and think about where they are.

And I’m well aware that this is, on some level, going too far.

My psych says that I take my grief for one thing – something that has happened to me such as losing memories when I was so sick, my fear for Violet when she had the meningitis this summer, and instead of dealing with it then, in the moment, I shove it down and then it overwhelms me when something else happens. Then it all comes out – somehow safer when I’m feeling for somebody else and not me.

Messed.up.

I’ll let you know how or if this helps.

Category: Depression, honesty, Sadness
Tags: anxiety > crying > Depression > Family > Healing > honesty

The Magic of Walt

Posted on | November 25, 2012 | 5 Comments

We spent the week of Thanksgiving at Disney and it truly was magical in all Disney ways. We went to The Animal Kingdom and rode through the wilds of Africa. Sarah danced in a street show in Africa. We walked through the gardens of Asia. We went on the famous magic teacups. We braved Space Mountain. We went on Star Tours and Buzz Lightyears shoot ‘em out game/ride. We met characters. We shopped in the ridiculously expensive Disney souvenir shops.

Of course.

And we also experienced our usual family antics along the way. Because, really, what vacation is complete without a few hang ups ? And a trip the ER. On the day we arrived.

Of course.

Let me explain . . .

We woke the kids up at 4 am on Saturday morning and said, ” Get dressed because WE’RE GOING TO DISNEY!”

Violet stared at us blankly. John said, “I’m tired.” Sarah’s mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. Then the questions started: did I pack shorts? (pretty sure I had that covered) Swim suits? (even goggles) sneakers? (gee, I hadn’t thought of shoes!)

We arrived in Florida at 10 am without any problems at all. The kids were great on the plane and didn’t even need the books and games I’d packed in their carry ons. We went to the condo where there was an incredible water park with heated water and a lazy river. We played for a few hours then the kids all napped. We cooked a Thanksgiving dinner (my mom even made a turkey and all the fixings) and had family over that I hadn’t seen in at least 14 years. We laughed and talked for hours.

Violet couldn’t seem to wake up. When she participated with the family she was reserved and quiet. Very unlike her. After everybody left she really started complaining that her neck hurt, she had a terrible headache and she couldn’t swallow. We’ve had enough cases of strep in the house for me to recognize the signs — and we were a thousand miles from home, on vacation and about to do Disney World.

So we took her to the ER. They quickly diagnosed strep.

Of course.

They prescribed us antibiotics and sent us on our way.

She felt well enough the next day to visit The Kennedy Space Center. (a colossal waste of money, but they had fun) and go to our special dinner that evening. ‘The Hoop De Doo Revue.’ It was PERFECT. They put the spotlight on Sarah and announced her birthday. One of the actors teased my husband. One growled and pawed at Violet when he was dressed as a bear. John smiled, laughed and clapped along with the songs. They had a full gluten free dinner for me. We couldn’t stop smiling. When we got back to the condo they acted out their favorite parts for my parents.

In the morning, Sarah’s birthday, we got up early and headed out The Animal Kingdom. On the way into the park Sarah, my least coordinated child, was galloping and dancing along, asking what time it was so she could mark the exact time she was born. A lady heard her and said, “Happy Birthday!” Sarah looked up to say thank you, tripped and hit the sidewalk on one knee. Hard.

Of course.

It immediately started bleeding, quite nicely, too. She was sobbing and yelling as I whipped out my handy dandy first aid kit and cleaned it up. But it was big. And the brand new kit had one small band aid.

Of course.

The Animal Kingdom was incredible. We all had a great day without any other problems.

On Tuesday we visited my parents new house and had another good day.

On Wednesday I carefully packed our bags and coolers, put my schedule in my pocket and we headed out to The Magic Kingdom. We parked, took the little train to the Tram, the Tram to the front gates and waited for the park to open. It opened and we continued to wait to go through security. We went through, no problem. We got to the ticket taker, put the first ticket in and it spit it out, fast.

I had the wrong tickets.

The WRONG tickets.

Of course.

Cue uncontrollable sobbing — from me.

I had to wind and push my way back the opposite way, find where to buy tickets and buy 5 tickets. All while sobbing. Then I had to get back into the security line, where the worker asked me several times if I was OK.

No, no I was not OK.

Then I sobbed my way back through the line, apologizing over and over to the people I was cutting in front off, trying to explain, “I brought the wrong tickets -sob- my family is up front -sob- I’m sooo sorry -sob-”

But I got through it, we put our tickets in and off we went. We went on all the rides the kids wanted then stopped for lunch. Where we discovered that we hadn’t packed any bread sandwiches.

Of course.

We just ate the meat and cheese and soldiered on.

The kids went on more rides and met The Fairy Godmother. They had a blast.

We got home about 11:30, shoved everybody in bed and slept in the next day. When we woke up we took our time and went to Hollywood Studios.

It was perfect. Not too crowed at all, we got the Fast Passes we wanted and went in everything except Fantasmic. Because it was Sarah’s birthday she had on a pin that said, “It’s my birthday!” and all the cast members wished her happy birthday constantly. The ticket taker at The Indiana Jones Stunt Show saw her pin and asked if we wanted VIP seats. Yes please! So down to the front row we went!

The kids met “Green Army Man” from Toy Story, Sully and Mike from Monsters Inc, Wreck it Ralph and the little girl. Then? MICKEY MOUSE. During our wait at Indiana Jones, John had drawn Mickey a picture, then put it in his pocket and carried it there – safely- the rest of the day. When we saw Mickey – and no line – he whipped that picture out and rushed the line. He danced his way up to Mickey and thrust the picture in Mickey’s hand. Then Mickey took it, hugged John, turned and showed the note off to the photographer and everybody in line behind us.

::headexplosion::

We went home, so happy.

Friday we went to Downtown Disney and got ready for our flight out at 7:00. Sometime during 11 and 12 I received 2 calls from an unknown number in Texas. Which I ignored. About 1:30 I noticed that the number had left 2 voice mails, so I reluctantly decided to listen to them.

It was Southwest. Our flight time had been “updated” to 9:00. We wouldn’t be getting home until well after midnight.

Of course.

In the end we switched flights. We did have a connection in Ft. Lauderdale, but we made it without a problem. Sarah was complaining about her knee and we noticed that it had puss coming out of it.

Of course.

We got home and were in bed by 12:00.

Saturday morning we got up very late and went to a diner for breakfast. Sarah took two bites of her favorite pancakes and refused to drink her hot chocolate. Her knee was still kind of gross and she wouldn’t bend it.

So off to the walk in clinic we went. For a scraped knee.

It was infected. (but not badly)

Of course.

We got home and put all the kids on the sofa to watch as much TV as they wanted. I went upstairs and unpacked us. I came back downstairs and Sarah hugged me.

And was hot. So I took her temperature.

102.2

Of course.

The walk in clinics check out instructions said to take her to the ER if she developed a fever/chills.

She had both.

Of course.

So we bundled her up. She asked for a drink before we left.

And promptly puked it all up.

Of course.

So my husband drove us the ER while I held the puke bucket in the back seat.

They took us right in, worried about her knee.

It looked the same.

Her throat? Did not.

She has strep.

Of course.

Today we are all sitting on the sofa watching as much TV as we want, refusing to do a.single.thing. Drugging Sarah with Motrin and Tylenol.

Of course.

But did we truly have a magical time at the most magical place?

Of course.

Category: Just a Day, laughter, Memories
Tags: Family > good things > happiness > laughter

How John Came To Be & The Power Of The Mind

Posted on | November 11, 2012 | 5 Comments

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately about the ‘power’ of the mind. How I can control my reaction to something and create a new situation. Like the saying goes, “You cannot change others, you can only change how you react to others.” This has been on my mind because of our situation with Violet and how I react to her when a tantrum begins/is going on/ends. Today, as I was dwelling on this yet again, I suddenly remembered John’s birth and the power of my mind in that situation. It was, and I think, still quite amazing.

When Sarah was 3 months old we got pregnant. To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I was due 1 day before her first birthday. While trying to cope with a colicky, refluxing baby and a 2 1/2 year old, I slowly started to wrap my mind around this. And just as I accepted it and became overjoyed, we lost the baby. Obviously we were heartbroken. We were told to wait at least 2 cycles before trying again . . . however I never cycled and we found out we were pregnant again. Sarah was almost 5 months old, Violet was 3.

As my due date came closer I began planning, again, for a drug free birth. I’d done it with Sarah and was completely comfortable with going drug again.

Around March 5 I began feeling uncomfortable and contracting quite a bit. As I had delivered Sarah in 2 hours — from first pain to last push — I was hyper alert for labor. Between March 5 and 7 we made numerous trips to the doctor so I could be checked, put on a monitor to confirm I was in early labor and be sent to the hospital. They sent me home every time. Even though they were convinced I wasn’t in early labor, I knew differently. We called my in laws to come down so when I was ready to leave we wouldn’t have to do anything with the kids.

On the morning of the 8, I woke my husband up around 4 and said it was time to go, even though I wasn’t having heavy contractions. Being the intelligent man he is (and remembering how I yelled, “I need to push!” while on the way to the hospital with Sarah) he got up and we left. When we got to the hospital I was comfortable but insistent that I was in advanced labor. The eye rolling that went on! Especially since when the nurses checked me they couldn’t even find my cervix because everything was still so high. The gymnastics that took place in order for them to finally determine how many centimeters I was dilated were comical. I kept saying,”I’m not going home. I’m at least 7 centimeters.” When my doctor arrived she was able to determine my dilation — 7 centimeters.

So we labored. My husband and great friend and L&D nurse, and my doctor were all in the room with me. Things started to pick up, but only when I was walking. I’d sit down to take a break and the contractions would drop back. So I paced and squatted and paced and squatted. I was in a lousy labor pattern and had been at it for some time, when my doctor asked me what I’d like to do. She said we could continue as I was and just wait for the pattern to even out, or I could get some pitocin and jump start things a bit. I was getting very tired, but I knew if I had pitocin the chances of me then having an epidural increased greatly. I remembered all the words of all the natural birthing books I’d read, the words of my friends Rachel and Anne (who both gave birth med free and told me I had the power and ability to do it), and asked for 20 minutes. If things hadn’t picked up then I’d do the pitocin. I know my friend and L&D nurse thought this was pretty funny, but I was going with my gut.

I pictured my baby moving down and out of me. I remembered what it felt like to be in heavy labor with Sarah. I even ‘visualized’ my cervix as a flower, opening up and letting my baby come out (That would have been thanks to Ina Mae, an incredible author and mid wife).

I was using my mind to change a situation. Controlling my reaction to a situation to create a new one.

And 20 minutes later my contractions picked up like crazy and I began transition. John was born shortly after.

Because I had the power, within me, to control what was happening.

(am I saying that this is what a woman should do and then viola! your baby will immediately be born? Not at all. It’s what happened and worked for me. Me only.)

Now I need to dig deep and draw on these same things. To deeply understand that I have the power to change a situation while in that very situation. To control my reaction with Violet when she begins to get ramped up. I need to see what I’m doing as I’m doing it and know that I can change it.

But honestly, I think making my body contract was easier.

Category: John, natural birth, Violet

Guest Posting over at Letters For Lucas

Posted on | November 7, 2012 | Comments Off

Today I have the honor – and luck- to be guest posting over at Tonya’s place Letters For Lucas. If you haven’t visited her before, you really must. She is wise, kind and inspirational. I’ve written my own letter to my family, Dear Husband and Children. today and I hope you’ll pop on over and take a look.

Category: random

After Shocks

Posted on | October 25, 2012 | 16 Comments

So . . . I haven’t been around lately, at all. Not on Facebook, not really on Twitter and definitely not here. And I’ve missed it all. But something more pressing has been keeping me occupied, and once it was under control, well I’d kind of lost my mojo. Again.

You all know that all three of my children had viral meningitis this summer. Oh the joy. Violet had it the worst because we didn’t know what was going on — we initially thought it was just a stomach virus. Since she went the longest without treatment it took 2 1/2 days to get it all under control. Which left her with some side effects we had no idea were coming.

About 6 weeks after the meningitis things started getting weird with her and then they got violent. She had such raging tantrums that I was forced to empty her room because her toys provided ammunition to launch at me. She screamed. She jumped on her bed. She yelled strange insults at me. When she’d done this twice in a row I sought the help of a dear friend, Lisa, who knows so much about brain function, environmental issues, allergies etc. Her son has mild autism and she is a wealth of knowledge. As I cried to her about Violet’s behavior, she started questioning me about other things, and we made a list of symptoms and dates they started. What resulted was a timeline that started after her meningitis.

Things I saw included violent temper tantrums, sleeplessness, clinginess, quick mood changes, recurrent headaches and a fear of doctors. I made an appointment with her pediatrician, talked with her teacher, my therapist (who is also a child therapist) and social worker at her school. Then I started to research all this myself.

Meningitis.com and The Mayo Clinic as well as several other sites listed after effects of meningitis: temper tantrums, sleeplessness, clinginess, quick mood changes, recurrent headaches and a fear of doctors.

What? Not a single doctor told me took for after effects. And I didn’t research the meningitis while she was sick because I knew I’d get all sorts of scary, ridiculous results.

I called two friends of mine who’s family members had experienced meningitis. I simply asked, “What happened after the meningitis?” One said, “You mean like behavior changes or tantrums?” What? She knew? And the other told me her brother had headaches for 6 months after.

We had blood tests done to rule out any other problems such as a hyper active thyroid. We had an MRI done. Saw an ENT. Everything was normal.

We went to the therapist and started to work on the actual behaviors — because even if they were a result of the meningitis we couldn’t live our lives walking around just waiting for the next explosion and all nervous about it.

So. Time has passed. She’s been to see the therapist twice now. Talked with social worker who gave her some books on anger to read. We have ‘anger rules’ up in the kitchen and her room. She’s earning toys back. She takes melatonin to get to sleep each night. She questions whether or not she’s going to have ‘a needle’ every time we go to the doctor – and remember, we went to the pediatrician, had blood drawn, were sedated for the MRI then went to the ENT. So she’s very worried. She is very clingy and tends to do it more around a lot of people. She’s tantrumed in front of two of her friends — who thankfully had experienced similar behavior in their own home so they just shrugged it off.

At first this consumed me. I searched the internet for hours. I talked to my friends. I asked for many, many prayers. I talked extensively about it to my therapist. My anxiety level has shot through the roof.

But I’m starting to see the other side now. She’s doing much, much better. She hasn’t had a full on tantrum in about 3 weeks. She’s beginning to learn that she needs to take a break from us when she starts to feel angry.

So this are starting to get better. Our home life is pretty normal now, no eggshell walking and no searching the internet for hours.

I think we’re going to be okay.

Category: honesty, parenting
Tags: anxiety > crying > Family > honesty > Violet

Politics and Facebook

Posted on | October 4, 2012 | 7 Comments

I’m a republican. But I don’t think Obama is evil. Do I agree with his politics? Not quite. I also don’t think Romney is evil. Do I agree with Romney? Not quite.

So who am I going to vote for?

I don’t know.

Then, after reading my Facebook feed this morning I decided. I’m totally voting for Obama.

Then I got deeper into my feed . . . and decided I’m totally voting for Romney.

Because these Facebook status’ verbally ripping Obama and Romney apart really made me think and change my point of view

*snort*

Here’s what those status updates did do:

Convince me that Republicans are going to vote for Romney because Obama is an evil man.

And also convince me that Democrats are going to vote for Obama because, duh, Romney is an evil man.

Mind? Blown.

So, who am I voting for on November 4?

I don’t know.

Category: fail, honesty, random, really?
Tags: honesty > omg! > Random > really?

Slow Cookin’

Posted on | September 7, 2012 | 12 Comments

So. With the kids back in school I’ve decided that I’m going to do more home, from scratch cooking. And Diana at Hormonal Imbalances has been talking about the beauty of crock pots for years. So I scoured Pinterest and cookbooks and found some that sounded amazing.

Ah-maz-ing.

This morning, before I even had the kids on the bus I had dinner out, prepped and in the crock pot. Honey Parmesan pork chops. I assembled all the needed ingredients then pushed little button that said, “High 6 hours.” Not worried a bit that the recipe said, “Low 6 hours.” Because 6 hours in a crock pot is 6 hours. Right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong.

My house smells wonderful, but the pork chops? Caked with the honey Parmesan sauce. The juice I was supposed to make a gravy with? Burnt and nasty.

The house smells amazing though. So there’s that.

And I just ruined 3 center cut, thick pork chops.

Awesome.

So. Those of you who use crock pots — what kind do you have? How many settings? I need some help here. This ‘easy’ way of cooking seems to be a little difficult for me!

Category: fail
Tags: omg!

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Blogroll

The Golden Globes and Modesty: A Lesson For Violet

Doing What I’m Told . . . And Trusting God

The Magic of Walt

How John Came To Be & The Power Of The Mind

Guest Posting over at Letters For Lucas

After Shocks

Politics and Facebook

Slow Cookin’

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