Hello again

Hello again! It's been a while. So long, in fact, that I feel burdened by the multitude of stories, blessings, experiences, and lessons that that I didn't get to record here on the blog over the last 6 weeks. I talked to my mom this afternoon and she helped me see that I could just start fresh. Start with today. So, here I am.

Things are good.

A few highlights from the last 6 weeks:

Alex turned 15, had his first job interview, and got his first job offer. He'll be a Junior Camp Counselor at our local park district's summer camp for kids. I can't imagine a better fit for Alex's talents and interests! He's in the high school musical this semester, too. It's "Anastasia." He loves taking voice lessons. He loves sleeping in on the weekends. He loves baking on Sundays. He also loves his two pet rats that he got for his birthday, but they keep escaping from their enclosure!

Robert turned 12 and grew another inch taller. Or more. He's officially taller than Alex now and the difference is growing every week. He's doing well in his advanced math class and got invited to a summer program for kids going into advanced math next year. His English teacher tells me Robert writes well enough to skip a grade in ELA, but he's less enthusiastic about challenging writing assignments. We've been doing some Khan Academy pre-algebra together a few evenings a month. It's pretty fun. I love algebra. Robert likes it, too. We laugh and tease each other a lot during these sessions. Robert's way of bonding with people is through verbal teasing and physical play. He has no problem understanding the math concepts. He gets in trouble, though, for not reading the questions carefully enough. Doing well in school requires that you 1) understand the material and 2) understand how people will test you on that material.

James' annual physical revealed that he had lost 13 pounds over the last year. My anxiety kinda went haywire over that. He routinely skips dinner because he's afraid he'll feel nauseous all evening and night. He's not motivated by or interested in treats anymore, either. What kind of kid (besides Matthew) isn't that interested in treats?!?! James and I have therefore developed an eating routine that gets him all the calories and nutrients he needs by 4pm. If dinner appeals to him, he'll eat a little of that, too. He's happier, I'm happier, and the doctor will be happier. The doctor ordered blood tests that all came back normal. And wow, James' courage and self-control was tested to the limit preparing for those blood draws. They botched the first one and we had to go back another day. He was SO frustrated and angry and brave and calm and so stinking relieved at the end of it all. 

Matthew is only 7, but that also seems pretty old. He plays and jokes around like the older boys, but still lets me hold his hand and snuggle him when he's hurt. He lost his first tooth! And his second tooth. The adult teeth actually started growing in behind his baby teeth (like shark teeth). Once the baby teeth were out, the adult teeth kinda shifted into the right place. Whew. 

Bobby built a gaming computer and the boys helped him build and test drive it. It's brought the boys together as they watch each other play new and interesting games. Bobby has been running regularly with a couple friends from church. He's also been approved to go back to working onsite but there are a few tricky hurdles that need to be worked out first. 

My anxiety kept us from taking a Spring Break trip to the Gulf Coast *sob* but it's been pretty low since then. I'm working closely with my therapist on this travel anxiety. I do NOT want to stay home for the rest of my life, y'know?

I've been able to exercise regularly again! I'm getting back on the bike and taking a few mild classes at the YMCA: strength/conditioning, body combat, and gentle yoga. The exercise is good for me physically and socially. I get out of the house and make eye contact with people who aren't my family. I even make friendly conversation or crack a joke now and then :)

My interest in gardening has returned. I've got some veggies already in the ground, some ready to transplant, and some getting started this week. 

We have been raising a new flock of chicks. Our friendly neighborhood hawk killed one of them, sadly, due to my overconfidence in predicting how a hawk would hunt. We lost James' chick named Curry. She was one of the most adventurous, curious, and people-friendly chickens we've ever raised. She learned pretty quickly that people bring food and water and treats. Whenever you came into the bathroom where the chicks were living, Curry would be the first to the door eyeing you up and down looking for treats. The other chickens ran away from visitors and huddled in the back of the cage whenever the cage was opened. Curry liked coming out of the cage just to explore. She also liked flapping up to the tallest point and perching there while all the other chicks looked around nervously and cheeped at her, "Get down from there! You're going to fall and break your neck!" She had the craziest habit: whenever we offered her something tasty (e.g. a cricket or worm) she would grab it in her beak and run around screeching. I think she was concerned the other birds might take it from her, but all her fuss just got their attention and created the competition she feared. Silly chick. I'm gonna miss her. James certainly does. 

A Couple Images

With yet another adjustment to my medications last week, I feel like I'm juuuuust pressing through the anxiety muck enough to see myself again. I was trying to describe what it felt like. I could only envision it in a picture, so I tried to illustrate it myself:

That's my face emerging from the sticky grip of the anxiety that still affects me. It's not entirely what I pictured, but you get the idea. A persistent, low-grade anxiety is present every moment of my waking life (i.e. most of my body is still in the muck), but I'm just enough removed from it now that I can see the anxiety as separate from me. Any little hiccup in the day triggers an acute wave of panic and I can now cognitively tell myself, "That's the anxiety talking, not me." I can relax my muscles and take a deep breath and quiet the anxiety down to its background level. Honestly, the background level isn't comfortable...I'm still a kinda nauseous most of the day and I have to push myself to do ordinary things I used to love. But, but, but it's a wonderful and beautiful gift to finally see myself as separate from the anxiety. I want to feel more normal than this, but if I don't, it'll be okay.

Another feeling I was trying to describe was my turmoil around Alexander. I let myself imagine just for a moment that he changed his mind and turned completely around back to the way it was with Alice. For that split second, I felt whole again. Like a part of my body that had been pulled apart was brought back in and healed. I realized then that the break with Alice was like this:

This is me as a tree with four strong limbs full of budding, branching potential. They are the hopes and dreams and desires I carry for each of my kids. When Alice became Alexander, the Alice limb split and tore. It's still a part of me, kinda hanging there, and there's a ragged, gaping hole where I thought I had control and knew what would happen. I don't, by the way, have either of those gifts. How do I heal from something like that?! 

I don't know. 

I guess I'll just carry it for now and figure it out as I go. 

Let me be clear: the limbs are simply my future hopes and dreams for my kids, not my kids themselves. When Alexander came out to us, I felt closer to him than ever before. I didn't understand it all, but I knew I loved him. We were close then and we are still close. The broken branch is the imagined future I had built for Alice, never the relationship I had or have with my actual child. 

If you look at the top of the split, there's a new limb growing. This is the beginning of hopes, dreams, and desires I carry for Alexander as Alexander, not as Alice. It's small because I'm only just getting to know him. Kind of. I'm just getting to know what he wants for his own future. Maybe this is something I'll experience to some degree with all of my kids....they will live their lives as they will. And maybe their choices will follow my own hopes and dreams for them, and maybe they won't. I may lose a couple more limbs before I'm through here. And maybe...that's...okay. 

Alexander is passionate and courageous and creative and kind. He's intuitive and empathetic. He's vulnerable. He's strong. I love him. 

He can do this. 

I can do this. 

Photo Dump :)

We had a couple of warm days between two winter storms. I just HAD to get outside. Birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the ice was a lot of fun. Here, James and Matthew are playing "The Grass is Lava".

Later, we went for a block walk where James found oodles of puddles to stomp in and get soaked. Matthew wanted to look tough...as tough as you can look in striped pajamas, anyway.

"Take a picture of me punching the camera!"

Alex and Robert in their fencing gear. I still can't get over how they are the EXACT same height. They like fencing class. They'd learn more if they were in private lessons, of course, but then there wouldn't be as many other kids to fence against. And it's really, really important to Robert to know how many other kids he can beat in fencing. And video games. And test scores. And height. And everything else. I wouldn't call him competitive, per se, but he's all about comparison. He likes to do well. He judges how well he's doing by how many people are doing better/worse/more/less than he is. 

Alex leading our Valentine's Day Monday Night Fun activity: sugar cookie decorating!

Alex also got the rest of his molars sealed. All grown-up teeth now. Only the wisdom teeth left to come in. He's laughing and enjoying a sugar-free sucker they gave him (it helps with the bitter aftertaste, but it's not tasty).

This month, I traveled to Tennessee and Georgia to support Rachel on 2 more of her 50-50-50 bike rides. This Bigfoot statue, and many others, were on the property of the house we stayed in. Kinda quirky. I was too anxious/nauseous/unwell to ride with her on this trip. Fingers crossed I get this anxiety under control in time to train for the rides in April (Mississippi and Alabama coast).

The first real winter storm left a good bit of snow. I took the kids to the enormous sledding hill at Colbert Park. James conquered every single face of that hill, so proud of himself for being so daring. You can't see the hill in this picture, of course. That's the frozen lake behind them.

Clear Impressions

I was thinking about something this morning during my daily prayer and scripture study. Something had happened with one of my kids the night before...

...it was new and uncharted parenting territory...

...like all of my parenting opportunities these days...

I really wanted to find a solution and heal the rift.

As I considered two alternatives, I asked in prayer if the first one was right. I had a hard time envisioning the words to say and the picture was fractured in my mind. Then I asked about the second alternative, which seemed more complicated at first, but it was suddenly very clear in my mind. I marveled and questioned how this could be the solution and a calm light settled in my mind. It was so bright that I had to open my eyes just to check that it wasn't coming from my room. Nope. 

I rarely have such clear impressions of what to do. I rarely pray so long and hard for help. Those are likely related phenomena :) 

I acted on the impression and everything fell into place. The rift was healed.

I wanted to record this experience here because I tend to forget things. I don't want to forget this. I'm also not very good about sharing spiritual experiences with my family. Recording it helps me remember to share.

Whew!

Where to begin? 

It's been 6 months since Alex came out to us as transgendered and gay. It feels so much longer than that, honestly. He's happy, doing well in school, and engaged in activities and courses that he enjoys. He just signed up for his classes next year: English, math, science, PE, German, and Advanced Child Development are the ones I remember. ACD is a course where they run a small preschool from the high school. Alex will get to work directly with preschoolers every day :) He's really looking forward to that one.

*******************

Robert has accepted the office of Deacon in our church. He's one of the boys who passes the sacramental bread and water to the congregation every Sunday. He takes his duty seriously. It's a joy to see him progress in the gospel this way. I wish I could see what was going on inside his head and heart. He talks to me a lot, actually, about his thoughts and feelings, but once I start asking questions (as I am prone to do), communication often breaks down and talking turns into something else entirely. I'm trying to find a pattern, but boy howdy he's complex. I wish I understood the triggers better.

*********************

James rejoiced when I told the boys they could quit piano lessons after 4th grade. Matthew cried, because 4th grade is a long way away from 1st grade. Matthew draaaaaaaaaags out his piano practices and masterfully pays attention to every possible distraction within reach before playing a couple notes and instantly giving up in tears at the first note he plays wrong. I have to remind myself every week why I feel music is an important skill for all of my kids to experience :) James, on the other hand, is willing to put in the work to get the reward. He complains less these days. Partly because he's getting better and the songs are more interesting. Partly because he knows the end is in sight :) 15 months and counting!

********************

I recovered from my most recent episode of anxiety (August-October) and then took another nose dive when my mom had to get surgery to remove an ominous mass in her lung (my symptoms started again late January). My mom is doing great, her lymph nodes, liver, and brain are all clear of suspicious activity. She's recovering comfortably at home with lots of support from family and church friends. We should know soon if/when she'll need to do any chemotherapy.

I thought her recovery would make this episode of anxiety disappear instantly. Not so. Three weeks later, I'm still sick, cramping, emotionally fragile, and consumed with terrifying thoughts most hours of my conscious day. I still tend to recover more in the evenings (though not as completely as I used to) which is why I can write a blog post about it at all. Earlier today, even the thought of sitting down to write anything of what I was feeling would initiate waves of nausea, abdominal cramping, and cold sweaty fear. It kills me that the best I can do most of the day is get myself ready, do a little light housekeeping, and sit in a chair looking out the window. I do a lot of praying, too, but the anxiety has been bad enough that I haven't been able to feel the Spirit like I used to. I look forward to a time when I will again.

I met this week with my doctor and therapist. There's more to process than my mom's health:

1) I'm still processing the loss of Alice. That makes me so, so sad. Still.

2) And I'm processing the loss of Alex's childhood innocence. Teenagers are hard, man, and painful. Painful in new and exciting ways. Alex used to make me look like a great parent. Now I'm just a regular parent trying to MacGyver my way through the next however many years. 

Not surprisingly, the thought of losing my mom compounded the strain and tipped the scales back to crazy. My therapist named it 'anticipatory grief'. Which, by the way, does not make the actual grieving later on any shorter 🙄. So, yes, I've got a lot I'm working through, but I'm also getting impatient with myself...

...am I going to dissolve into a nauseous paranoid puddle for two months every time I might lose someone or something I love?! Why? Why?! It's infuriating. I always saw myself as stronger than this.

My therapist assures me that beating myself up over this is counterproductive. That this is out of my control. And I trust her, even if the anxiety doesn't always let me believe her. 

My doctor recomended an adjustment to my meds. He said I should feel better in a week or so. No improvement so far on day 3. I find myself on thought trains that lead to dark, scary nightmare sorts of places like losing my spouse or child...or dying and leaving my spouse and children. They feel so heavy and so terrifying. Those are the moments when I literally have to shake myself out of it and say, "That's just the anxiety talking. Those things do not occur to me when I'm normal."

Bobby has stepped up again and again to see our family through this. He's been infinitely patient and kind and warm towards my fragile state. He doesn't complain, even when he has a right to. Even when I can see this isn't easy on any of us. Even when I can't do more than cry and curl up into a ball and stare out the window.

I wish, I wish, I wish we didn't have to endure this.

I am so, so blessed not to be doing this alone.