Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Honest post

I've been a little discouraged lately, or at least that's what I think is at the bottom of the grumpiness that I've been feeling.

I'm not sure what I've been discouraged about, but maybe it's my sleeping.  I can't manage to sleep at night.... I'm thinking I maybe should not take my anti-anxiety med for a day so that I can take benadryl instead and maybe give myself a good night's sleep.

Maybe I'm discouraged because it's hot and being hot always makes me feel larger.

Maybe I'm discouraged because I'm too tired (see number 1) to exercise.

Maybe I'm discouraged because the boys haven't been listening very well.

Maybe I'm discouraged because I haven't seen my sisters in awhile.

Maybe I'm discouraged because we haven't made it to church in awhile.

Maybe I'm discouraged because some in our church are being swayed by false doctrine.

Whatever it is, I know that God is with me and loves me.  Say a prayer for me, ok?

Thanks.


Friday, June 20, 2014

Domesticated Part 2

I made one New Year's Resolution this year.  Only one.  I told myself that at the end of the year my feet would not look horrid.

Since January, I've waffled back and forth on that resolution.  98% of me didn't care what my feet looked like.  I have so many other things to take care of.  My feet are number 962,344,321 on the list.

But then I read about sugar scrub and, since I'm being domestic, I decided to make my own.  Before I did, I scraped my feet down so that the massive callouses would be gone.  Then, after I vacuumed the massive pile of dead skin, I washed my hands and made my scrub.  I used brown sugar and pomegranate infused olive oil.

It was LUXURIOUS.  Rubbing that stuff on my feet made me so happy.  My feet were so nice and soft after I got out of the shower.

So, at risk of being risque, I have to say, soft feet are SEXY.  They feel so nice.  I can give up the ease of scratching my leg with a calloused foot when I can't bend down to scratch it myself because I'm holding Ilse or driving.  Yep.  Sugar scrub.  I'm a fan.

Domesticated

I've sure been being domestic lately.  I've made four desserts in the last three week or so.  I've been making dinners (gasp!) occasionally that take more than one bowl.  I've been cleaning my shower and have gone through Ilse's closet to get rid of things we don't need to keep.

I found a recipe online for Raspberry Cream Italian Sodas and they are delicious!  Here's the recipe:

Raspberry Cream Italian Soda

Put ice in your glass. Fill glass 3/4 full of soda water (also known as seltzer or carbonated water). Add 2 TBSP of Raspberry syrup. I bought mine at Starbucks... theirs is the cheapest! Add 2 TBSP of half and half. It will be swirly in the glass. Leave it that way and your guest can stir it with the straw you serve it with. Top with whipped cream and a cherry. These ingredient quantities can be tweaked according to your taste.  Enjoy!

Rebecca told me about an easy way to make Iced Coffee.  I haven't gotten to try it yet since I haven't found my coffee press.  That recipe is:

Easy Iced Coffee

1/3 cup coarse ground coffee
1.5 cups water
Put together in your coffee press.  Store in the fridge overnight, and plunge in the morning.  Flavor according to your tastes.  

I bought cinnamon dolce syrup from Starbucks.  It's cheap!  I hope to find my coffee press today.

I hope you are all having a good day!

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

My Son

One of my sons has really been on my mind lately.  Tim and I have just realized how, gosh, I don't even know the right word..... mentally slow (?) he is.

I had this conversation with him this afternoon:

Mommy, can I broom the porch? 

Son, how many times have I told you it's not 'broom'? 

Son, confused: Mop. 

No, sweetie, it's not mop. 

Son: Broom! 

Honey, didn't we just talk about how it isn't 'broom'? 

Son: Mop! 

No, honey, mopping is wet. 

Son: Broom! 

No, honey, we just said it wasn't broom. It's SWEEP.



He's a strange mix of wisdom and confusion, of competence and absolute inability.  


He's going to take careful teaching and extra help along the way.  And he needs people to be understanding and kind to him when he's slow.

Before we adopted the boys, the social worker told me, "We want to make sure you understand that they are going to be mentally challenged."

I told her we knew, but I was thinking in my heart that our son's real problem was the neglect he'd endured for four years.  I was confident he could learn and would be *'normal'.  

I was so wrong.  He can learn, but not like I thought and he'll never be normal.

We don't regret adopting him.  That's not what I'm saying at all.  But I am sad about it.  He's going to have trouble in life.  He's going to be looked down on and he's going to have to have help doing some normal things.

Tim needs help doing some normal things (driving, etc.) and he is looked down on by some people.  People are impatient with him fairly often.  And in comparing him and our son, our son's mental challenges are worse.  It breaks my heart.

I'm glad we've discovered now how slow he really is.  He is oh-so-good at faking understanding.  But he doesn't understand, and I have to remind myself very often that I need to be patient with him.

*Normal:  I know people hate that word.  But it is what it is.

Monday, June 9, 2014

Friendship

This post has been on my heart for a long while, years even.  I want to write about friendships, and I don't mean to hurt anyone by writing what I'm going to write.  I feel a huge loss in my life in this area.  I have no in-real-life friends.  I wish I had someone to go to coffee with frequently, someone who cares about my life.  I wish we had a family we were simpatico with to get together of an evening for long conversations and fun with the kids.  I wish someone would call me and text me all the time.  I wish I had a fun, shared experience with someone that would blossom into that full friendship that comes from deeply knowing someone and wanting to keep knowing them.  I think friendships like that usually start in public school, and for that reason I regret that I didn't go to high school.  College is the other place that deep friendships start, but really the only friend I came out of college with is Tim.

My mom never really had close friends.  And growing up my siblings and I told each other that siblings were the best friends, and that we didn't really need friends besides our family.  I did have a few friends, but we've drifted apart over the years, probably because our lives have gone such different directions.  Even know I have heard from my family that siblings and cousins are the best kind of friends.

I don't disagree that sisters are amazing friends.  I really cherish my sister friendships, but I miss the friendships that I see other places.

Being a special needs mom is lonely.  I know my life is going to look different from other moms' lives.  I guess there aren't many normal women sitting up right now while their three year olds are watching Color Crew in bed, while tube feeding, while waiting for the Benadryl to kick in.  Maybe my friend is destined to be Ilse and Ilse only.  She will be with me until one of us dies.  But I'd like to try for more.

I was talking to Tim about this again last night.  We've talked about this many times over the last several years.  We feel like we had one experience in our marriage with another couple that could have turned into a good friendship, but it would have taken change on the other couples' part, because they constantly treated us like we were young and foolish.  Since then, we've just stuck together and enjoyed our families, but we wish for more.

So, I told Tim last night that I am going to make a friend this summer.  I'm going to go out of my house and make a friend, and I'm going to pursue that friend and hopefully the friend will pursue me, and then we will build a friendship that can last a long, long time, so that maybe we can be these kinds of friends:





Saturday, June 7, 2014

Summer

I'm always so excited for summertime.  It's not because I like typical summer activities... I actually dislike them immensely.  I adore summer because my husband and boys are home.  I've really missed my boys this year, and I always miss Tim when he is gone.  Summer is when we get to reconnect and it's when we get to be a family.  This summer I'm hoping to get my sleep cycle regulated, and I'm hoping to get to do some fun things as a family.  To me, fun things are just spending time around the house, but I bet my boys have a different idea of fun, so we'll add in some other things, too.  I know the boys like to go to the pool and to Cabella's.  Also, we hope to get to see a lot of our family.  Almost all our family lives close by, and my boys are delayed enough so that they still don't know/remember everyone's names.

Tonight I jumped at the chance to send them to their paternal grandma's house (YaYa) because they need to get to know her.  I don't like that they don't know her, and it's my fault.  I just haven't made an opportunity for them to cultivate that relationship, and I want to fix that this summer.  Also, Chris has asked specifically that he get to go to Mamaw's house this summer and spend some time there, so maybe my mom will host a sleepover, too.  :)

Both the boys had their birthdays recently.  Chris turned seven and Joey turned eight.  Joey has not had trouble remembering how old he is for a whole year now.  He never did understand that he was six, but he got seven and now he is absolutely sure that he is 8.  I'm proud of him.  We're still working on him remembering when his birthday is.  I was so proud of my boys.  I asked them who they wanted to see for their birthdays, and they named family members.  Chris specifically wanted to see his Mamaw and Grandpa and Abby and Luke, and Joey asked for Caleb.  :)  That melted my heart.

Ilse turned three recently.  I didn't write a big (or little) post on her accomplishments this year.  I just forgot.  She's gotten so big and strong and determined.  Just today she started throwing fits because she didn't want to do what I wanted her to do.  That's a whole new ball game with her, and it's one I need to learn to navigate.  I don't want her to be spoiled but neither do I want her to be confused.

Tim has had two interviews for teaching jobs so far this year.  He didn't get the first job and we don't know about the second one yet.  He's hopeful.  He has been so patient.  I'm so proud of him.



Saturday, May 31, 2014

Disability Cuteness

"Oh, your daughter is disabled??  But she's so cute!"

This has been said to me a time or two in some form or other.  It never bothered me.  Then I read a post by someone on facebook talking about how those kinds of comments really bother her, because it is implying that a child who has a disability and isn't cute is somehow 'less' and/or that the child can't have a disability for real because she is cute.  I understand how moms can feel that way, but I have a bit different opinion.

Sometimes dealing with Ilse is really hard.  All the tube feeding (which I really do love, but it's still something to deal with), the disturbed sleep, the screaming from teething.... and lest you think, 'eh, all parents deal with teething screaming!' don't be so sure that it's the same.  Ilse has been working on her two year old molars since before she turned two, and she's now three.  Teething is super slow for a tubie.  It seems like it will NEVER end.  And we deal with the not walking, the not talking, the barfing, the not being able to go outside, the constant supervision because she will choke herself on her toys or furniture, the immunodeficiency, the constant med giving, washing syringes....  etc.  

I love my life and I adore my daughter, but still, these things sometimes become a heavy burden to carry.  When they do, God has arranged it so I can look at my daughter and thing, "Wow.  (heartfelt sigh)  She's SO CUTE."  "Wow.  I adore her smile."  "My, what pretty hair."  "I can't believe we made her!"

My enjoying and being thankful for those things don't mean that Ilse would be less valuable if she weren't cute.  It doesn't mean that she doesn't really have a disability because those with disabilities are inherently ugly (what a horrible view some people have!).  It means that God has given me a gift to help me through the hard times.  

When I see her, my heart overflows with love for her.  And on those days when I'm feeling a little less loving because I'm more tired... or maybe a little less loving isn't the right word.  Maybe the right way to say that is on those days when I'm not feeling the joy of being a mom, the cuteness and bursts of her sunshiny personality bring back the joy and give me a bit of joy that carries me through until I'm feeling better and am more rested.

Can anyone else relate to this?