Sappy Mom: preparing for senior year...

Baby boy is going to be a senior.  He'll turn 18 this year, and I suppose if he wanted to, he could pack up his legos, and hit the road.  I don't see that happening this go around, but I will say that it goes by so much faster than you think it will.

My kids will be quick to point out that I cry- a lot.  At internet bits of soldiers came home reunions, and hallmark commercials, I am a complete mess when people die after a poignant scene in a movie.  But I don't normally have trouble letting go of my kids.  First day of kindergarten?  See ya!  Mommy will be here when you get home.   Dance recitals?  Awe very cute, but not tear worthy.  Dropping at sleep away camp?  Peace and quiet at home for a few days!  I have a sinking feeling that this senior year stuff might be harder.  

It's a real accomplishment to get your child all the way through all the years of school.  You have to navigate: dress codes, homework, mean teachers,  playground bullies, and don't even get me started on the policies which make sense to one narrow thinker, but always seem to not work for the masses.   There are activities, and social choices.  There are sleepovers, non-invites, and cuts from sports teams.   Your perfect newborn who you silently vow to protect from the big cruel world will (despite your best efforts)

come through it bloodied and strong enough to stand on his own.... I hope.

I have 9 more months of "before" memories.  One more season of running, one more season of swim.   I am so proud of the young man he is becoming.  He is a compassionate, hard-working, dedicated, team player.  His generous nature, and even his angst make him who he is, and will be.   And when that final day arrives and I watch my baby-man walk across the stage in cap and gown, I may cry, but only for a bit.  After all, two of the others are bound to start fighting and snap me right out of it.  This will remind me that a new chapter is starting. 

Bored this summer? Have a few more kids, oh and get a puppy!

I've got the cure for summer boredom.  It is constant activity.  So far this summer we have had a soccer tourney, a camp, college for kids, swim practice, cross country practice, soccer tryouts,  in a play, picked raspberries on a farm, done volunteer work,  film-making classes, a teen with a new job, oh yeah and the worlds wildest puppy....  It's still JUNE.    We still have another camp, more swim, a Colorado training trip for Ian,  golf lessons, a trip to California for Jill,  a 5k, and soccer skills to go.

I am so very blessed.  I have active, happy, only sometimes crabby kids.   I am hoping to have a few days of sleeping in, playing in the grass, going to the pool, reading books, a mini vacation,  late nights with friends,  and even a few "I'm bored" s (that way I'll know they are mine).   Life cruises right on by ready or not.  

Anxiety sucks and other stuff I know all too well. ( here we go again)

My whole life I have been in the closet about anxiety.  A few times literally ( I slept on the floor of my closet to hide from burglars).  People say all the time that I am type B, Laid back,  easy going.  And I am. Sort of. About some things.  The problem is anxiety doesn't look like you probably think it does unless you have it too.   It isnt always the kid throwing up before the big game.   Or the preschooler hanging onto her mom's leg so she won't leave. I mean, it is those things but it can look like a whole lot of other things too.   With me it often looks like obsessive thinking over every minute detail of every conversation so that I just don't sleep at night. It means second-guessing decisions it means forcing myself to believe that I have done everything I can do after a lot of positive self talk.  It means I will avoid doing certain things that should be easy because they are unfamiliar until I have no other choice. But all of this is taking a lifetime to get there.
My kids it's a whole different animal. It looks like crying and very inappropriate times. Means panic tears and yelling over things that other people don't even care about. It looks a lot like defiance sometimes.  But after years in therapy we realize that sometimes defiance isn't because you don't want to comply it's because you can't comply. It means obsessing over stuff to the point you push other kids away because they just don't get why you care that much. It means training harder than everyone else just to make sure you don't mess up. And when mess up you do, it means hours of worry, uncertainty, and replay. It makes you your own worst critic.  It means that every small change is a big change.   It means that when your coach teacher or mentor says the wrong thing to you it might take months to get over instead of just hours like a kid your age normally does.   As a parent the problem is I can't pre-warn everybody on how my kids are going to feel about what they say and do.   Instead I have to teach and reteach coping skills to kids who resist learning them because it is uncomfortable to be vulnerable.  It means meeting after meeting to get your child a diagnosis as disabled emotionally.  Yay? It means explaining time after time that special Ed does not always mean cognitively impaired.  That yes, he is smart, but that does not mean accommodations are inappropriate.  And most of all it means adjusting my mommy expectations to meet the abilities of my kids emotionally not just physically and mentally.  It means never running out of medication that is working even if means driving and hour out of the way, or rearranging The schedule of an entire family to not miss a doctors appointment because we know how real this disorder is. It's not just mental weakness.  It is a physical problem for which there is- at least on some level, relief.    On some level, it means moving to a place where you hope things will be enough different to help them cope with the day to day.
After noticing the all to familiar signs that took first time parents years to recognize, it is crystal clear with Hadley.  She is such a high strung achiever.  Everything is a BIG deal.  But this time around I feel like we are doing a better job with heading it off.  Some of that is probably personality, some of it may be level of suffering.  Interestingly enough, I learned about EO right when I was starting to ponder a treatment plan.  I am all about western medicine.  But if I can find a natural alternative to Zoloft- I'll try it.  ( that's coming from someone who is so thankful to the makers of said medication for being the right fit for my other child that I should appear on their poster).   I don't want her ties to a doctor month after month for the rest of her life.  Right now, Valor is working.  She is using it for test days, and we tried it, (in addition to allergy roll on which works awesome for her too btw) on Sunday before soccer.  She did great.  No tears or panic.  We are trying to "not sweat the small stuff". After all there is so much big stuff to attend to.

It's Still Real...

So we wander through life thinking we know what the hell we are doing.  So. Not.True.    We fretted, and prayed, and prepared for this move.  I felt ready.  Then all of the sudden it was here.  Things got real very fast.  I had to wrap my mind, heart, and in some cases my arms around leaving people I truly love, and everything familiar.   Every day the tears still arrive at the dumbest moments.  When I unpack a soccer jersey, or when I realize that I cannot just meet my friend for lunch, or when I see the overwhelming size of the pile of stuff still to do...  None of it would change my decision, but it is hard to understand the impact of a move on a family until you do it.  The only home 4/5 of my kids have ever known was a lovely, comfortable suburban paradise/nightmare (depended on the day).  We knew people, places, the schools, the everything.
We are suddenly in a very, very, different place.  We are in a rental house, not one we would ever have chosen, but one that was available.  One that would be enough.   We are in a smaller town riding a never ending roller coaster.  Nothing works quite right.  Nothing falls right into place.  Nothing is a perfect fit.  The house I had never seen is WAY dirtier and more neglected than anywhere I have ever lived.  The kids are way more emotional than I could have imagined.   The distance between my old life and this one is the grand canyon, not just a 2.5 hour drive up I-80.
I have scrambled to find health care, as Jillian broke her foot last weekend, and Hadley had to have a strep culture yesterday.  Just one more thing to change.  

BUT...  My son is happy, and frankly I have not seen this kind of happy from him in a long, long time.  He joined the cross country team, meaning that he is diversifying for the first time since 8th grade.  Life is more than just swimming. 
My house, while really ugly provides a roof for my family to be together.  My neighbors seem really glad that we are here. (I think we give them hope that the house will be renovated) After a few days my kids seemed to have adjusted and do not think of the place as "old and scary" anymore...

It is time to cut the final physical tie to Naperville.  Our house NEEDS to sell.   It has never looked better and is totally move-in ready. We dropped the price, and are prepared to take the financial hit.  Yet another potential buyer is coming back today for a second look.  I don't don't even know how to pray this one, other than to say, "it is all in your hands Lord, and that will be trusted. "

Raising Iowa kids in Naperworld....

Living here frustrates me SO often.  I try hard to see all the good things:  Nice home, safe community, plenty to do, close to Chicago, not too far from Grandparents, seasons, (although never-ending winter was not what I signed up for), quality schools, and a good job for Kevin.  So I should just end it here and count my blessings for they are many.  The reason that I struggle with living here is that it does not match who I am, and it does not match who I want my kids to be.  It is not easy raising kids against the grain, they tend to notice when everyone they know does it differently.


What do I want?  I WANT my childhood for my kids.   I want them to appreciate everything they are blessed with, and to know that not having everything you want is ok. I want them to get to try things (and not have it break the bank) without training like an Olympian.  I want doing your absolute best to not mean that private tutors most be hired STAT.  I want my holidays back to spend with family, and not being afraid to miss a practice, a rehearsal, and sometimes even a competition.


  Kids here photograph the number of UGG boots in their middle school closets, and post them on instagram.   Kids here sport the new $350 fast suit at mediocre swim meets. New cars at age 16, and college are expected, not a hope.  Preschool costs more than a new car payment, and nobody blinks.  Nobody ever seems to say, "NO" to any activity that might somehow culture their child.  Six year olds own ipads, and every 6th grader seems to have a better cell phone than I do. Spring Break is around the corner, and Naperville will be a ghost town. (Every other family is in Florida or the Caribbean)


It's not just the money thing that bothers me.  It is the expectations placed on parents, kids, and families.  Ian's swim team just put out the new spring schedule.  He has practice at a high school that is not his 2 days each week at 5:10 am.  This means that I have to wake him at 4:30 in the morning, and drive him there.  Then I have to wait for him, or drive home for 15 minutes and drive back to take him to school.  I cannot take any sub jobs those 2 days, and I have to choose to either wake 4 sleeping siblings to come along, or leave them home asleep on days when Kevin is not home or has an early day.  There is a very real expectation that he WILL attend all practices at this age, but unless I blink him there, it just is not going to happen.   His coach will not accept this as a valid excuse, and I have no choice but to tell him, that sometimes we just can't do it all so ignore him when he gets on you for it. (if you know Ian's intensity level, "ignore it" is not valid advice)


My girls came home from school down in the mouth yesterday.  Their BYOT (bring your own technology) devices do not have a camera, or QR scanner capability.  Their ipods  and Kindles are not able to be used, so they are the kids "without".    It embarrasses them, and I know that won't kill them, but I am tired of being the parent who says"no can do"all the time.  I am tired of the expectation that everyone can just buy their kids whatever device is at the whim of a particular teacher.  I am also stubborn, and even if I had a wad of cash to buy new devices I would not, on principle.


Ian had to use special software(that our computers would not load) a video camera (which meant I had to give him my phone), and when I discussed it with the teacher she flippantly told me she "wished parents would pay attention to what schools need for kids to have when they buy computers"


I will admit that not every kid here is bratty or spoiled.  My kids have lots of nice friends, and as far a Naperville goes we live in a less uppity area than many.  My friends are some of the most caring awesome people I have ever known.  Our church has a strong youth program, and my kids have had mostly positive experiences with the kids they know there.  It is more the culture of this place.  The what normal looks like that makes me feel like I live in the twilight zone.  

One and Two are here

I resoluted (is that a word? or maybe resolved)  to foster 25 animals this year.  #1 and #2 are here.  They are skiddish little girls.  9 weeks old.  Dreamcicle and Cider.  They came to us a few days ago, and would not let us near them.  They are getting better, but we are still not living in the land of cuddles.

The Usual Suspects

She's cute, and really quite bright (report cards aside...) and she lives by that philosophy "don't be good at anything you don't want to have to do".  But her absolute speciality is making her siblings crazy by convincing them that stuff is true because she told them it is.   

"This i-pod (which Mom specifically said belonged to the whole family) is actually mine because I spent 1.99 to put a chipmunk case on it"  Nobody (except her) changed the rules, nobody with any authority backed up this proclamation.  She simply says it with the conviction of a tiny attorney who is cockily about to win a 2 million dollar settlement, rather than a 10 year old who wants to possess a used i-pod that Mom bought second-hand from one of the neighbors, and that we have 3 more of laying around....

And they ALWAYS believe her.  Every time, even after I point out that I never gave permission, and remind them of the past 50 times it has happened.  

"BTW, I need to ride shotgun whenever Ian and Dad are not with us.  I am 10 now, and too big to be comfortable in the back of the van..."  Seriously?!  Triplet sisters who buy that since their sister turned 10, she needs more leg room than them?  Do they not recall that they share pants?  Have they forgotten the birthday where they all had they exact.same.number of candles on the cakes?

Devious suspect #1, but she is not alone...

I also have this young man living in my house who feels that menial chores are beneath his great skills or total lack of ambition...  He watches his 4 sisters do daily chores.  He sees his dad shovel the driveway, mow the lawn, and put up Christmas lights.  He knows that his mother gets up at the crack of dawn to drive him to swim practice, washes his clothes, helps with homework, and cooks his meals.   This little prince has an automatic response to any request, even ones he doesn't really dislike.  

"Seriously, why me?  Can't the girls do it?"  Some of that is teenager.  Some of that is years of practice. Some of it is knowing that Mom will give up after enough resistance.  

Yes, Suspect 2 maybe a good cuddler, but don't ask him to scoop the litterbox!

Then there is the real Master.  Top dog when it comes to manipulation.  This master mind does not start her own shower, heat her own food, get things from high cupboards, or carry anything remotely awkward, let alone heavy.  Her shoes are always conveniently missing when it is time to carry in groceries.  Her toe gets injured at clean-up time, and searching for misplaced things is just not in her vocabulary.  She is cute, but I often find my ipad under her pillow. 

Suspect 3 showing some accolades.