As a parent there are plenty of conversations you expect to have with your children. You plan to talk to them about happy things: family, friends, coloring, riding bikes, books, movies, TV shows, food, sports, games...general silliness.
And then there are things that you wish your children never knew about. There are school shootings and car accidents and cancer and suicide.
I had struggled through the day hoping to give a sense of normalcy to my students, hoping that is what they need. It was a quiet day. I could feel a sense of pain below the surface in my classes but they made it through the day; I made it through the day. I kept my composure, more than once I thought about the post I wrote over the summer. I thought about that tattoo I want for my birthday. I thought about the fact that someone chose a period when everyone in their world wishes it was a semicolon. What I didn't think about was that it would impact my oldest son's world.
After school today I asked a question that parents across the country ask their child on a daily basis: "How was your day?" It is a question that we expect to not get a response to half the time. It is a question we rephrase to dig deeper most of the time. It is also a question that we don't always know what kind of response we will get.
This is how it went today:
How was your day?
We didn't have guidance today because the counselors had to be here (we were in my classroom). Do you know what happened?
Yes, kind of. Do you know what it was about?
B told us that a kid died, do you know how it happened?
Kind of, what have you heard?
(long pause of hesitation) B said that he shot himself. Is that true?
That is also what I heard.
Mom (I will never forget the look in his eyes), I don't understand-why would he do that?
This was not how that question was supposed to go. That is not how I ever expected a conversation with my 10 year old to go. Ever.
I will admit that I fumbled with my answer with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. How do I attempt to explain something to my 10 year old that leaves adults asking why? But I did, I tried. I let him talk about what he heard and then I explained that we really don't know why. No one does. Not even the person who did it. Sometimes people get so sad that the feel like they can't be happy again. Sometimes bad things happen and we really don't know why. I just want you to know that you can talk to me about this-if you have more questions or anything. I also want you to know that it is something to talk to me and Daddy about but not the best thing to talk your friends about because this is something confusing for kids. If people are talking about it, you don't have to stop them or correct them but I would appreciate it if you don't participate and that you talk to me about it because this is a very adult thing for kids to be talking about. Kids should talk to adults about adult things rather than other kids. I hugged him and he seemed satisfied with my incomplete answer.
And then he sat in a desk and did his math homework and English homework and I wished I could climb inside his little brain and know that he was thinking. Did I say the right thing? Does he still have questions? Does he understand? Did I say too much? not enough? I'll never really know but I do know that he talked to me about it. He could have answered my question with his usual "fine" or "good" or "okay" but he didn't and I suppose that is one positive I can take from a pretty dreary parenting experience.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Monday, July 20, 2015
Tattoos-Mental Fitness
As a high school English teacher, I have interacted with hundreds of teenage students over the years. One common question that comes up quite a bit is, "Do you have any tattoos?" (Many of my students have tattoos themselves.) The quick answer to this is, "No." Do I have anything against tattoos or people with tattoos? Nope. I don't care much about other people's skin. The simple fact of the matter is that I have never found anything that I wanted on my skin for my whole life (no, not even my kids' names etc.) so, since that is the nature of a tattoo, I never got one.
Recently, that changed. I was scrolling down my facebook feed when I came across a story about semicolon tattoos. The headline was something about, "Do you know what they really mean?" Being an English teacher...and a curious person who clicks on facebook links...I clicked and read and understood and wanted one.
It is all summed up with this line from the Project Semicolon website: "A semicolon is used when an author could've chosen to end their sentence, but chose not to. The author is you and the sentence is your life"
If you know me personally, you know that I don't have the prettiest past. I have come a long way from where I once was and I am pretty open to talking about it, well...most of it. Most of you have heard my stories of having a mom addicted to drugs and alcohol; the impact that it had on me and my life and the wonderful people who rescued me from it (some of the most amazing people I know). But what most people don't know, what I really don't talk about, are the really hard times I suffered mentally-silently.
Depression is never an easy thing to talk about. Suicide is even more difficult discuss. Too many people simply suffer in silence and it is some of the most painful silence a person can ever live with. So...here I am...trying to put into words...something I have avoided talking about for about 20 years...all because of the semicolon...
I spent a good portion of my young life depressed which I think will surprise a lot of people because of the person I am today and the outlook I have on life. I wasn't always this way. I'd like to think I hid my depression well but the only people who could tell me that are the people who were around me during those times. Looking back, I know it started in middle school-I remember a good friend that I had at Discovery Middle School in Vancouver, Washington. She was the first person I could talk to about the darkness I felt growing ever larger inside me. She had similar feelings and together we did some stupid things to get our adrenaline going and make us feel at least a bit better, even if it was only for a moment. Eventually, we moved and I never saw her again.
I spent a good chunk of the next part of my life writing about my feelings to release them without letting anyone know. My mind was quite the dark lonely place and constant moving only made things worse. I idolized suicide and wondered what it would be like to just be done with life, be done with feeling terrible, be done with living in scary places where people broke in, be done with sadness...just done. I wrote things like, "My life is a train that's on the wrong track; it won't turn around it just won't go back. Things just get darker and darker until...crash." My mom found that written in a notebook and questioned me about it. I lied and said I didn't feel that way but I was SCARED. What if she didn't believe me? What if she really knew what I was thinking? She did believe me, and I made sure that anything I wrote was well hidden after that. Even today, I wonder why it was so hard to talk about what I was feeling and experiencing. I think I worried about rejection-if people really knew how screwed up I was inside, would they want to be around me? I still have journals going up all the way through college of the constant battle I waged against my depression. Some journals list the kinds and amounts of pills that I had in my possession-my journals of the mental battle I was locked into within my own mind: live or die. I am thankful that the live side won but it never felt good; it felt hopeless. I think I keep those journals and glance at them every now and then to remind myself how far I have come and also to remind myself that there are other people out there silently struggling as well. Maybe a semicolon tattoo is just what I need to let those journals go because I chose to continue my life's story rather than to end it.
Matt was a very bright light in a very dark place in my life. I was able to talk to him about some of the stuff that I was going through, but part of the power of depression is the fear of putting too much of the burden of it on someone else. Like if I shared too much, it would be too much for him and I would lose him. Back when I was struggling, I thought that much of how I felt would go away if I just got out of the situation I was in. But even when my life changed my junior year in high school, I still felt that darkness. It stayed with me through my junior year in college. I couldn't just change the setting of my life and get myself to snap out of it.
Sometimes I wonder what kept me from taking my own life? Did I have just enough hope to get through? Was I too scared to disappoint the people who cared about me? I really don't know and that's okay. What matters is that semicolon. So when did things change? Marrying Matt and When I became pregnant with Cohan. Both things happened pretty close together ;) Some day I will tell Cohan just how much of a blessing he really is. He was the light that chased away the rest of the darkness and it has stayed away ever since. I created the little family I dreamed of-it wasn't some dream in the future; it was reality.
At this point in my life, those 10ish years seem like a little blip in the story of my life. The happiness that I now have and experience on a daily basis feels so much more powerful than any of that darkness but I never knew that back then. If I could have one wish, I think it would be for people to be able to see the happiness that awaits them if they can just hold on a little bit longer...well, that and a semicolon tattoo.
Recently, that changed. I was scrolling down my facebook feed when I came across a story about semicolon tattoos. The headline was something about, "Do you know what they really mean?" Being an English teacher...and a curious person who clicks on facebook links...I clicked and read and understood and wanted one.
It is all summed up with this line from the Project Semicolon website: "A semicolon is used when an author could've chosen to end their sentence, but chose not to. The author is you and the sentence is your life"
If you know me personally, you know that I don't have the prettiest past. I have come a long way from where I once was and I am pretty open to talking about it, well...most of it. Most of you have heard my stories of having a mom addicted to drugs and alcohol; the impact that it had on me and my life and the wonderful people who rescued me from it (some of the most amazing people I know). But what most people don't know, what I really don't talk about, are the really hard times I suffered mentally-silently.
Depression is never an easy thing to talk about. Suicide is even more difficult discuss. Too many people simply suffer in silence and it is some of the most painful silence a person can ever live with. So...here I am...trying to put into words...something I have avoided talking about for about 20 years...all because of the semicolon...
I spent a good portion of my young life depressed which I think will surprise a lot of people because of the person I am today and the outlook I have on life. I wasn't always this way. I'd like to think I hid my depression well but the only people who could tell me that are the people who were around me during those times. Looking back, I know it started in middle school-I remember a good friend that I had at Discovery Middle School in Vancouver, Washington. She was the first person I could talk to about the darkness I felt growing ever larger inside me. She had similar feelings and together we did some stupid things to get our adrenaline going and make us feel at least a bit better, even if it was only for a moment. Eventually, we moved and I never saw her again.
I spent a good chunk of the next part of my life writing about my feelings to release them without letting anyone know. My mind was quite the dark lonely place and constant moving only made things worse. I idolized suicide and wondered what it would be like to just be done with life, be done with feeling terrible, be done with living in scary places where people broke in, be done with sadness...just done. I wrote things like, "My life is a train that's on the wrong track; it won't turn around it just won't go back. Things just get darker and darker until...crash." My mom found that written in a notebook and questioned me about it. I lied and said I didn't feel that way but I was SCARED. What if she didn't believe me? What if she really knew what I was thinking? She did believe me, and I made sure that anything I wrote was well hidden after that. Even today, I wonder why it was so hard to talk about what I was feeling and experiencing. I think I worried about rejection-if people really knew how screwed up I was inside, would they want to be around me? I still have journals going up all the way through college of the constant battle I waged against my depression. Some journals list the kinds and amounts of pills that I had in my possession-my journals of the mental battle I was locked into within my own mind: live or die. I am thankful that the live side won but it never felt good; it felt hopeless. I think I keep those journals and glance at them every now and then to remind myself how far I have come and also to remind myself that there are other people out there silently struggling as well. Maybe a semicolon tattoo is just what I need to let those journals go because I chose to continue my life's story rather than to end it.
Matt was a very bright light in a very dark place in my life. I was able to talk to him about some of the stuff that I was going through, but part of the power of depression is the fear of putting too much of the burden of it on someone else. Like if I shared too much, it would be too much for him and I would lose him. Back when I was struggling, I thought that much of how I felt would go away if I just got out of the situation I was in. But even when my life changed my junior year in high school, I still felt that darkness. It stayed with me through my junior year in college. I couldn't just change the setting of my life and get myself to snap out of it.
Sometimes I wonder what kept me from taking my own life? Did I have just enough hope to get through? Was I too scared to disappoint the people who cared about me? I really don't know and that's okay. What matters is that semicolon. So when did things change? Marrying Matt and When I became pregnant with Cohan. Both things happened pretty close together ;) Some day I will tell Cohan just how much of a blessing he really is. He was the light that chased away the rest of the darkness and it has stayed away ever since. I created the little family I dreamed of-it wasn't some dream in the future; it was reality.
At this point in my life, those 10ish years seem like a little blip in the story of my life. The happiness that I now have and experience on a daily basis feels so much more powerful than any of that darkness but I never knew that back then. If I could have one wish, I think it would be for people to be able to see the happiness that awaits them if they can just hold on a little bit longer...well, that and a semicolon tattoo.
Parenting: The Mental Struggle
This has been one of my toughest weekends in a long time. Those that know me, know that I have a pretty upbeat and positive person but sometimes the load just gets a bit too heavy. I have really been feeling down, and I wish there was something that I could do to make myself feel better.
Being a parent is hard. Sometimes, parents need a break to be better parents. It is frustrating, challenging, and scary at times. It is also amazing, rewarding, and joyous. Simply put, parenting is a balance and sometimes the scales get a little off balance. That is the best way to describe this past weekend-the scales were tipped but not in my favor.
This weekend was supposed to be kid-free fun but it became kid filled frustration. I found myself in the car, in the bathroom, in the shower, on the couch, writing this post-crying and, to be truthful, I feel like a whining kid who didn't get her way having a melt down. I want my weekend back-the one I was supposed to have. No broken arm, no surgery, no scalp lac, no kids. I wanted meals without bargaining, sleep without interruption, games without kids, time with friends without watching the clock; and it was so close I could taste it. I think I wanted it too much.
It isn't like this was the first time that the kids ruined our plans so why is it SO HARD this time? I think it's so hard because I didn't know how much I needed it until I didn't get it; we didn't get it. As a result, every little thing this weekend felt like a bigger thing. The 4 hours of sleep on Thursday night, Cyver still not sleeping through the night, whining, tantrums, wildness, fighting, hitting screaming, it all felt like too much.
I also think it is incredibly hard because it isn't easy to talk about here. I don't want Cohan to hear us saying how much we wish we were on our trip. I don't want him to feel bad or feel like it's his fault we didn't get our special weekend because it isn't anyone's fault. Shit happens. He has enough crappy things to deal with as a result of his broken arm (missing state swimming, final baseball games etc.) I don't want the loss of our weekend weighing him down. This weekend was just a weekend that wasn't meant to be and it sucks. IT SUCKS! And it sucks even more to not get to talk about it and voice my frustration and just openly have a good cry. I am hoping that by writing this I can start to let this go and get out of my funk and open myself up to a better week.
**I don't want anyone reading this to think that I am not thankful for all the kind words, prayers, help, and gifts. Without the help of our little village, this weekend would have felt much worse. I am beyond thankful that it's just a broken arm. I am forever grateful that I did not have to sit waiting for Cohan's surgery with a whining 6 year old and a melting down 2 year old. We were very blessed to just be also to focus on and be there for Cohan during a scary time. So thank you to everyone that helped or sent kind words, it really was appreciated.**
Being a parent is hard. Sometimes, parents need a break to be better parents. It is frustrating, challenging, and scary at times. It is also amazing, rewarding, and joyous. Simply put, parenting is a balance and sometimes the scales get a little off balance. That is the best way to describe this past weekend-the scales were tipped but not in my favor.
This weekend was supposed to be kid-free fun but it became kid filled frustration. I found myself in the car, in the bathroom, in the shower, on the couch, writing this post-crying and, to be truthful, I feel like a whining kid who didn't get her way having a melt down. I want my weekend back-the one I was supposed to have. No broken arm, no surgery, no scalp lac, no kids. I wanted meals without bargaining, sleep without interruption, games without kids, time with friends without watching the clock; and it was so close I could taste it. I think I wanted it too much.
It isn't like this was the first time that the kids ruined our plans so why is it SO HARD this time? I think it's so hard because I didn't know how much I needed it until I didn't get it; we didn't get it. As a result, every little thing this weekend felt like a bigger thing. The 4 hours of sleep on Thursday night, Cyver still not sleeping through the night, whining, tantrums, wildness, fighting, hitting screaming, it all felt like too much.
I also think it is incredibly hard because it isn't easy to talk about here. I don't want Cohan to hear us saying how much we wish we were on our trip. I don't want him to feel bad or feel like it's his fault we didn't get our special weekend because it isn't anyone's fault. Shit happens. He has enough crappy things to deal with as a result of his broken arm (missing state swimming, final baseball games etc.) I don't want the loss of our weekend weighing him down. This weekend was just a weekend that wasn't meant to be and it sucks. IT SUCKS! And it sucks even more to not get to talk about it and voice my frustration and just openly have a good cry. I am hoping that by writing this I can start to let this go and get out of my funk and open myself up to a better week.
**I don't want anyone reading this to think that I am not thankful for all the kind words, prayers, help, and gifts. Without the help of our little village, this weekend would have felt much worse. I am beyond thankful that it's just a broken arm. I am forever grateful that I did not have to sit waiting for Cohan's surgery with a whining 6 year old and a melting down 2 year old. We were very blessed to just be also to focus on and be there for Cohan during a scary time. So thank you to everyone that helped or sent kind words, it really was appreciated.**
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Rain, Rain Finally Away!
The past two days it was pouring down rain in the morning. I didn't even need my alarm to wake up-both times I woke up before my 5:45 alarm. Before I even opened my eyes, I could hear the rain pounding on the roof, and my immediate thought was not relief but disappointment. Once I finally got back on my bike, I didn't want to stop. Much to my relief, I heard no rain drops this morning, and I had my lights all ready to go. I did have to spend a bit of time rigging the front light as the rubber grip wasn't keeping it tight. Once that was ready to go, I was off with a bit of mist in my face.
I do like these cool mornings-they are great for riding. I was happy to have my light as it was very dark and cloudy. Even though I left earlier than Monday morning, it was much darker. It was nice to ride along with the sound of the creek by my side-it was pretty silent on Monday, but two days of rain have given it a bit more life. By the time I reached the park, the sprinklers were off but I still didn't ride my normal distance. I rode down to the boat docks and turned around. My legs felt like spaghetti when I got home and that last hill is still my nemesis.
I am crossing my fingers that I have another dry morning tomorrow. I really want to get back on track and stay on track. Hopefully, if we do get more rain I can convince myself to get up and do some other sort of workout. Maybe play a little Wii Fit or Just Dance :o)
I do like these cool mornings-they are great for riding. I was happy to have my light as it was very dark and cloudy. Even though I left earlier than Monday morning, it was much darker. It was nice to ride along with the sound of the creek by my side-it was pretty silent on Monday, but two days of rain have given it a bit more life. By the time I reached the park, the sprinklers were off but I still didn't ride my normal distance. I rode down to the boat docks and turned around. My legs felt like spaghetti when I got home and that last hill is still my nemesis.
I am crossing my fingers that I have another dry morning tomorrow. I really want to get back on track and stay on track. Hopefully, if we do get more rain I can convince myself to get up and do some other sort of workout. Maybe play a little Wii Fit or Just Dance :o)
Monday, August 4, 2014
On the Bike Again!
So, I realized this morning that it has only been 1 year and 1 month since I last posted...oops!
Life has been busy and filled with three wonderful little boys. I had big plans to get right back on the bike this summer but between me being sick, baby being sick and just plain feeling exhausted, it didn't happen...until today! I finally woke up not feeling completely wiped out on Friday so I mentally set the goal to begin my bike rides Monday. I set my alarm for 5:30...woke up and 5:25 and realized I had my alarm set for Sat. and Sun. (I set it in the dark). I also realized that it is still VERY dark at 5:30 so I changed my goal to 5:45 because I did not have a clue where my bike lights were (note to self FIND them tonight). I got out of bed a bit before 5:45 because...well I was wide awake LOL! I grabbed a water bottle and my phone and off I went.
It felt SO good to be back out riding my bike in the cool morning air. As I got on the trail I noticed the colors of the horizon beginning to change as the sun inched higher. I saw a wild cat who scurried off into the tall grass and I listed to the chorus of nature all around me. I set the goal of riding down to the river and back. I didn't really want to loop around the park just yet. I reacquainted myself with some of the hills that I still hate. I got down to the river and thought I could keep going. I saw the sprinklers and changed my mind. Instead, I took some time to look at the beauty of the fog that had settled over the river and to snap some pictures.
This area has always been my favorite part of the ride...some times I see a lot of wild life and other times it just looks beautiful at sunrise.
I hope I can get myself back on track with working out and eating right but I feel like I have a long way to go! Wish me luck!
Life has been busy and filled with three wonderful little boys. I had big plans to get right back on the bike this summer but between me being sick, baby being sick and just plain feeling exhausted, it didn't happen...until today! I finally woke up not feeling completely wiped out on Friday so I mentally set the goal to begin my bike rides Monday. I set my alarm for 5:30...woke up and 5:25 and realized I had my alarm set for Sat. and Sun. (I set it in the dark). I also realized that it is still VERY dark at 5:30 so I changed my goal to 5:45 because I did not have a clue where my bike lights were (note to self FIND them tonight). I got out of bed a bit before 5:45 because...well I was wide awake LOL! I grabbed a water bottle and my phone and off I went.
It felt SO good to be back out riding my bike in the cool morning air. As I got on the trail I noticed the colors of the horizon beginning to change as the sun inched higher. I saw a wild cat who scurried off into the tall grass and I listed to the chorus of nature all around me. I set the goal of riding down to the river and back. I didn't really want to loop around the park just yet. I reacquainted myself with some of the hills that I still hate. I got down to the river and thought I could keep going. I saw the sprinklers and changed my mind. Instead, I took some time to look at the beauty of the fog that had settled over the river and to snap some pictures.
I hope I can get myself back on track with working out and eating right but I feel like I have a long way to go! Wish me luck!
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Everything Changes
So it has only been half a year since I posted so I figure it is time for an update. I am now a mother to THREE wonderful little boys and my little family is complete. I forgot how exhausting those first few weeks can be-especially with a baby that was only sleeping when held. Thankfully we have worked through the kinks and we seem to be getting to more of a schedule. This means that I should be able to start incorporating some workout time while the baby take his long nap. Speaking of the little bundle...
Now the real challenge for me begins-NOT gaining 50 pounds while nursing him. So far I am up 10 so I really need to get to work! I am looking forward to getting in some Wii Fit time-I have been trying to up my fruit and veggie intake but my pocketbook feels the pinch. Thankfully, we chose to start a garden this summer and some of the veggies were ready to be picked today. I popped a couple pea pods and snapped some green beans-it made me feel like a kid back in the large garden we had on our small farm. Camden even enjoyed the peas...I think the beans were iffy though as he didn't want another piece when I offered it to him.
I am ready to start setting small goals and then move on to bigger ones.
Goal for tomorrow: Play 30 minutes of Wii fit or Just Dance (I want to start easy)
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| Cyver Matthew Born April 21st-my lightest boy at only 8lbs 7ozs and longest at 21 3/4 inches long |
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| My three sons :o) |
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| So sweet |
I am ready to start setting small goals and then move on to bigger ones.
Goal for tomorrow: Play 30 minutes of Wii fit or Just Dance (I want to start easy)
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
An Organized Life!
I spent a good chunk of my day yesterday creating a home management binder to help myself and my family be more organized. I modeled it after some that I had seen used by a couple bloggers that I follow (Money Saving Mom and Motherhood on a Dime). I used some things I liked and modified some others-the thing I really liked about creating my own was that I got to put in everything that I wanted (and I enjoyed a little graphic design time!). It is now fit just for my family-the photos I am posting are actually modified versions (I removed personal info) and they are all designed to be printed and inserted into a binder (complete with room in the margin to three hole punch). I can only post the entire PDF documents on this blog if I upload them and link them so I am just posting a few pics to give you an idea of what it is like!
Above is the cover-this PDF document is just the cover and dividers for each section.
This document is just a two page spread that shows each week in a bit more detail.
I designed the margins so that my binder will sit open showing the whole week all at once.
New week? Just print another!
Fill the month in at the top then write the dates in the little circles.
The bottom lines are for tasks or reminders that occur on a daily basis.
Mine are typed in and all the same.
This is part of the bulk of the binder-yearly planning!
This is what the calendar looks like.
There is a page for every month-it is a nice way to write things down so you don't forget something that you planned or paid for a few months in advance.
It is also a place where you can track pay days etc.
Goals are a great way to stay organized!
I have a page for financial, family, organizational, and personal (one page for each person in the house) goals.
There is another page for monthly and yearly chores as well.
That about sums it up! I am going to print all the pages on white card stock except for the week by week which I will print onto regular paper because I will need 2 pages for each week! If you would like to make your own Microsoft Publisher was a HUGE help (the calendars were super easy!). I would also be happy to share the PDF files with friends-just let me know. I hope you find this post helpful and inspirational to get you off to an organized start to the new year.
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