Coping with Threats

Disclaimer: You may, dear reader, read my thoughts on anxiety and think, this lady knows nothing of real life of real anxiety. All I know is, if something is hard, it is hard. Difficulties are custom to each of us, whether I have no children, or I'm dealing with death in the family, illness, money concerns or three babies at the same time. Trauma is trauma. If it is hard for you, than it is a trial, and that's okay.

So many times I have wanted God to take the anxiety problem away from me, maybe I could have taken a pill and made it all go away (I haven't ruled out this option, but it is back burner right now, as I've gotten this far) but as I look back He has made me strong instead of taking it away. And I see the progress I have made over time and I am glad for it. How often I have taken a quiet moment in my room praying for a miracle, that I can calm down, feel peace or patience. I never felt like the miracles came all at once. But instead I was just taught how to manage it. I have learned so much in the fight to stay calm, and just by using the word "fight" I have betrayed myself again!

Anxiety is just a word, maybe it's not even the right word for explaining myself but this is how it is for me. Anxiety is the multitudinous threatening thoughts that go through my head in the milliseconds after an event. An event could be anything- people talking over each other, babies crying, witnessing unkindnesses, something I can't control. When I feel threatened, my adrenaline starts to increase. The increase in adrenaline sends extra oxygen into my bloodstream. I suddenly have a kick of energy and I go into fight mode. I must be some kind of crazy warrior. Brain people call it the fight or flight instinct. I fight. Fight myself, try not to fight my kids and friends! Never fight my husband.

Quinn has the habit of finding crayons or markers and sneaking off to a quiet place to practice her artistry, unfortunately not on paper.  A week ago, I caught Quinn coloring and again,  I couldn't get the marker stains out so I had been on guard, watching out for any spare writing tools in her reach.

Within a few days, I caught her again. I also caught myself on the verge...
These are a few of the multitudinous thoughts that snaked and exaggerated their way through my head.

1. Great! Now we look like trashy people. Markers all over the couch. I'm never going to get that out and as soon as someone comes in here these scribbles are all they are going to see!
2. I don't want to look ghetto, maybe we could buy a new couch. How can I reallocate funds to buy a new couch? How much do they cost?
3. Mad. Who left this out? Who was so carelessly coloring that they let Quinn wander away with this?
4. Mad at myself. Why should I even care what other people think? We are raising a family under God the outcome is the goal not how it looks. I love my children more than I want to wreck them for coloring on the couch.
5. Mad at people that judge that was going to walk in my home a condemn me for having marker on the couch. Who does that anyway?
6. What else is going to get ruined?
7. This kid is going to be a felon. Am I ruining my kids? I must not be a good mom.

Those thoughts hit me all within milliseconds, so it wasn't just that Quinn colored where she wasn't supposed to, it was that my standard of living in society and my standing as a valuable daughter of God was challenged all in those few seconds. I had condemned my family and myself for one scribbly act. I'm really not doing myself any favors telling anyone about this, and I'm not sure I am explaining myself as a wish but I am learning how to manage my fears, I joke that there is a bubble of serenity around my head that I now know how to retreat into it when times get too loud. I am safe, I am at peace!

I spent the first few years of Hazel and Claire's life in guilt, berating myself for being in fight mode, running on adrenaline and not being good at controlling my instincts-- not knowing that I was letting anxiety control me, not even know what it was! (Never mind that motherhood is just really hard sometimes, let's add some more guilt and anger to it.) We had prayed for years to have children, and when Hazel finally came, I guess I thought I would have it all together and never lose my sweet temper. When I did, I thought maybe I hadn't prepared myself well enough and that I really was a terrible person. (People like me for some reason have enough guilt on their plate, would you like some?) It wasn't because Hazel was a tough baby but because I didn't understand what was going on inside my head. I had always had lots of exercise or had some some type of creative outlet before children. I didn't know at the time but exercise manages anxiety. I had this little newborn in front of me to care for, and Claire growing inside of me, it was new water and I didn't know how to paddle so well.

Once the adrenaline builds up, it takes hours to come down. Hours that I still need to manage my family and home in a loving way. Hours that if I feel threatened again, I may react unkindly and slip-up, then I would break my children or husbands trust and if I do that... oh sorry there it goes again, that circle of worrying myself into a blow-up. Here I am raising my little group of felons again! They sure are cute though.

Fast Sunday is NOT Fast

In our church, we have something called Fast Sunday. It is the first Sunday of every month. We voluntarily abstain from food and drink for two consecutive meals. We combine fasting with prayer and ask God for help with special blessings. We take the money we would have spent on food and donate it to our Bishop. He carefully accounts for and manages our charitable donations to helps those in need.

To me, there is something peaceful about fasting. My body enjoys the reprieve that comes for abstaining from food. Since I have had a stomachache since the day I was born, I enjoy the placid peace of eating nothing and wonder why I don't have the stamina to starve myself more often?

Because we try to cook simple meals on fast Sunday, I spend less time in the kitchen and I feel as though there is more time for reflection and meditation. (It has taken years of study but I finally know how to meditate, hmm..maybe I will do a blog post about it someday.)

When I fast to be strong enough to overcome something, or to never let my thoughts go down certain dark roads, it is galvanizing to my soul to be actively working on overcoming weakness. I feel it bring me closer to God. When I fast for blessings to be given to loved ones, my love grows and I become more humble. The byproducts of fasting are well worth the discomfort.
Yes, I want to eat! Yes, I'm starving! But there will be time for that later. I just enjoy tuning my feelings to things that I can't usually feel when I have my mind on food.

Picture This

Hazel and Claire enjoying the company of sisters Tori and Macy

Wilson fulfills his lifelong ambition to drive and now has nothing more to live for

It's winter, I am always on to lookout for places out of the home to play. So it ends up that James is in heaven on the crock pot/rice cooker/popcorn aisle at the thrift store. Interestingly, the items named are the things he carries around our house all day and has subsequently broken. Lid on, lid off, lid on, lid off. Oops, sorry mom.

I'm trying to decide which of the two girls (Quinn or Hazel) loves playing in the snow more, Quinn who eats snow like candy and fights not to have to go inside when her wimpy brothers get cold...

Or Hazel, who wanders around our backyard playing for hours, shoveling in snowdrifts, swinging on frozen swings and knocking down icicles

Sophie and Claire build a snowman. (Does this snowman look a little like a Calvin and Hobbs snowman?)

Christmas Review

Christmas was spend with Nathan's family at a cabin his grandfather built in McCall, Idaho. They call it The Ranch. It has a large open plan house, a hot springs swimming pool and sleeps several families. What a sweet legacy to leave your family, a place to gather and enjoy each others company, usually...

Had I known how sick my sweet little family was before we left we would have never been there. Wilson threw up the Monday before we left. That was it. Two days later, we left for Boise. Fevers, barking coughs, hacking up lungs, lethargy, ear infections and stomach flu are all gifts we gave for Christmas. Now, can you see why I am not that eager to go back? Ever.

I held sick kids, wished I was closer to a pharmacy, watched them get worse and worse. By the time we got home, Wilson had double ear infections, James had one too and everyone received a diagnosis of Bronchiolitis. A deep chest cold for the big girls but darn near killed my babies, not to mention all the cousin babies that were up at the Ranch. 

All total, we were down for about three weeks again! I keep wondering, we are healthy people with decent immune systems, how did this happen again? It came out of the blue and wiped the floor with us, including me. If we were living in the 1800s, I would have lost half my children. 

I am still recovering and feel extremely humbled by the whole thing. At the Ranch, every cough from my children, grated on me and was like a hangman's noose around my neck, getting tighter and tighter. I wasn't my cheerful usual self. I'm sorry. If you got sick because you shared your Christmas with us, I am so sorry, I was sick with worry for you and your family. Grammy, you never get sick, and you got sick. Thank you for holding fevering children and sharing our load. Grumpy, thank you for taking special care of Quinny, she healed the quickest.

We are not big spenders for Christmas, the babies received two little gifts, not that they will remember and Hazel and Claire collectively, got one gift from us but it was a good one. In the summer, my friend Mary Kate was getting ready to go to college and decided to sell her dollhouse. I bought it from her, and a rubbermaid tub that held accessories. I didn't look too much into it, I shoved it in the basement and put a grimy dust cover over it. I didn't know what a treasure I had. For years, Mary Kate had meticulously gathered every dollhouse piece known to man, sewn tiny blankets for beds and pillowcases, collected animals, tea service, cupcake tins, dolls and dolls for dolls. That dollhouse is one of the best purchases I have ever made (besides the limo) and the only gift Haz and Claire got from us ahem, Santa. Thanks to Mary Kate. Long live the dollhouse!

In No Particular Order...

Hazel, New Years party at the Mall, one determined little climber. She didn't make it to the top but she swears next year she will. Chill out kid, you're five. I'm not sure I could make it. Although next year, I promise to try and climb with Hazel and I will sing karaoke -just to get myself scared stupid. Actually, I'm torn between going to Idaho and participating in the polar bear swim or going back to the beloved mall New Years party.

My finest kitchen help. These two, James and Wilson are always lurking around in the kitchen trying to get up on a stool and wash dishes or help mom cook

Legendary Dollhouse

Merry Christmas Kids.

Happy New Years

Found princesses, must stare. Lost blue balloon dog, can you see it?

Fresh Wind in Sails

After a month of sick on and off everyone I am surprised at how well the day has gone. I am not standing by the door anxiously waiting for Nathan, or hiding in my room with the door shut while 3 angry babies cry without and stick their fat fingers under the door but I am playing happily on the floor with everyone, truly this is my bit of heaven.

Sickness can really take the wind out of your sails. James has been my "Helen Keller" baby for the last 3 weeks. Banging his head on the floor at the least provocation. It has gotten so bad that I would dread looking at him for fear he would throw a screaming match and injure himself or others. He didn't want to be held, he didn't want to be put down, he didn't want a bottle or a toy or food. It tell you I was barking mad last week. I climbed onto the roof and started howling when Nate didn't get home on time. Over the weekend was no better and I begged Nate not to leave me with the "crazy people". He offered his apology and skipped off to work -mind as empty of worries as a tin can. (That's how it felt anyway) Heart heavy, I turned to my crew. Dark circles lined their red watery eyes, coughing, and drippy nosed they balled their fists and zombie-like started after me. I ran.

The Learning Robots Evolve Too Fast!

These babies are learning too fast and growing too big. I can't even keep the important documents and sharp knives far enough out of their reach on the counter. When you come over, don't forget to put the chair back in front of the door when you use the facilities, or Wilson will get in there and have a tea party with the toilet. When that happens, I have trouble looking at him or kissing him for a few days so please remember to close the seat and bar the door with the chair.

You have to keep the garbage on top of the oven, I know it makes it a little awkward when you want to cook, but trust me its better this way, unless you prefer cleaning up over and over.

Just because you put it up high doesn't mean it's safe. Zip it, lock it, whatever you gotta do.

After you feed the babies, it is advisable to leave them in their highchairs for a bit so you can clean up the floor. If you pull the babies out of their chairs first, then try to wash the floor they come walking through it and track rice, green beans, oatmeal everywhere. So, while they sit in their chairs looking down on you  and while you are on hands and knees scrubbing up their mess, they will start to throw their food at you, just remember Jesus had it worse. It's only humiliating if you let it be...

James fancies himself your best dishes helper. By helper I mean, he throws a fit if he can't push his stool up next to you and dump cupfuls of water down your legs while you wash all the dishes. Oh sure, he'll find a knife or two to wave around, maybe a glass to drop, but mostly you are doing all the work.

Keep the front door and the water dispenser locked. Wilson finds the water dispenser on the fridge indispensable. He fills his cup up, pours it out on the floor, admires his new skating rink and determines that it needs more water. I beg you, don't forget to lock it, I hate the sound of that dispenser on because it's either Wilson, or someone that is going to forget to lock it, then it will be Wilson!