A Home

For the last four years (maybe even longer), I would say that our house was just that, a house....not really a home. It was perpetually messy, even dirty, but more than that, it lacked all the extras that make a building homey. 


When Eon was born, we suddenly had six children, four of whom were aged five and under, and we were plunged into the world of special-needs-parenting. Prior to his birth, I was (obviously) pregnant, a state that leaves me exhausted, queasy, and crabby...and doing the barest of bare minimum. After his birth, even though he was generally healthy, we had appointment after appointment, one always leading to another, plus two hospitalizations and one heart surgery. 


We had little (read "needy" and "messy") children who seemed bent on  destroying every knick-knack, throw pillow, and window covering in sight. A relaxed housekeeper in the best of times, I couldn't even pretend to keep up. My ADD, with it's trademark ability to hyper-focus on select things and not at all on other things, allowed me to immerse myself in the world of Down syndrome, but accomplish little else. 


After the first year, the appointments slowed and I thought I could get my bearings, only to find myself unexpectedly pregnant with KJ. Another 9 months of the barest of bare minimum, a kidney stone, and a scary delivery later and we now had seven children, five of them under six-years-old. Then I had a revisit of the kidney stone with stents, infections, hospitalizations, and surgery. 


Things at home continued to deteriorate.


Last summer, I found myself depressed, overwhelmed, and without hope and, what's more, I think I'd felt that way for a very long time. I couldn't cut this stay-at-home, homeschool mom thing any more. We, or rather I, discussed sending the kids to public school, but the kids seemed to be doing fine. I was the one struggling...with the dingy environment, the overwhelming clutter, and my inability to affect change. 


When the opportunity to escape for three months and work full-time presented itself, I was almost giddy with anticipation. With Shawn home, I knew things would change in rapid order. 


The first few months flew by and I agreed to stay on permanently. Things did not really change much with the house, but I didn't really care. It was no longer my responsibility and I just felt free, honestly.


It took Shawn until very recently to get his bearings. After all, he wasn't presented with a handy job description for his new role like I was. But, slowly, things with the house were changing. New paint, less clutter, window coverings, throw pillows, etc and, suddenly, I realized I am comfortable in my house. It feels...well, homey.


I am so blessed that God is allowing this change in circumstances to bring restoration to our entire family in so many different ways. I am grateful and I am humbled. I am glad to come home.

One Thousand Gifts

Recently, I mentioned to a friend that I don't often choose gratitude. In fact, I was reticent to log into my facebook account because so many of my friends were posting something they were thankful for every day in honor of Thanksgiving. I found it annoying. 


My friend graciously loaned me her copy of the book, One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. 


I am entranced. I'm also convicted, encouraged, and...well, grateful that God would put this tool in my hand at this moment.


She writes poetically, and it's difficult to read more than a few pages before needing to stop and absorb the content. So much meat in such a small book.


I'm only half way through and my own list of one thousand gifts stands at a paltry forty, buy my eyes are starting to see and my list is growing faster and my heart is growing larger as I develop the discipline and reap the delight of eucharisteo.


I cannot recommend this book more highly. Get a copy for yourself. Might as well get a copy for your friends, as well. Then you won't have to loan them yours and wait...and wait...and wait to get it back. (Sorry, Peg! :)

The Seizure

Saturday, after having donuts in honor of our bookends' birthdays (Michaela, our oldest, turned 15, and Keturah, our youngest, turned one), Eon suddenly started crying and grabbing his belly while rolling around in obvious pain. We tried everything to calm him and to discover what the problem was, to no avail. 

After a half hour of this, we called the doctor on call and left a message for the nurse. Before she returned our call, he calmed somewhat. Then, while he was laying on our bed, his eyes half-way closed, his eyes started flitting from side to side. I called his name and he didn't respond. When I called him louder, his eyes opened wider and stilled, but didn't focus. Then they half closed and flitted some more. The whole thing probably lasted 30 seconds or so. 

When the nurse called and I explained what happened, she sent us to the ER. Eon was completely exhausted by then and didn't even move when Shawn buckled him into the van. Pulling into the ER parking lot, I thought he looked pale and I couldn't get him to wake up. I shook his leg and patted him and called his name loudly. Nothing. Freaked out, I pulled into the nearest parking spot, yanked him from his car seat and took off running.

Halfway to the door he said, "Momma. Down!" After that, he acted totally normal. He was diagnosed with an ear infection. I tried to hold him down for a CT scan. That was fun. They were able to get enough to rule out hydrocephalus and a brain tumor, anyway.

We were instructed to have our pediatrician order an EEG and follow-up with a pediatric neurologist. We have an appointment with our ped tomorrow morning.

Honestly, I'm a little stressed about it all. I was very afraid on the way to the ER. 

Also, I'm in a lot of physical pain. I hurt my back dashing into the hospital with a 30 pound bundle of low muscle tone. I just recently recovered from a back injury that happened over 3 months ago. I have some thoughts about this new injury that I haven't sorted out, yet. I'll keep you posted.

For now, please pray for my boy. 

Groundhog Day

The days run together until everyday is Groundhog Day....generally pleasant, but not something I would like to endlessly repeat. I find that physical exhaustion collides with mental fatigue and so I numb myself with the mindless drug of television...partly because I want to escape or avoid, and partly because I'm too tired to remember what I could/should be doing instead. 

How does one do the "quality time" I've heard so much about? How do you make every moment matter when you really just want a nap?

It takes a courage that I lack. To step outside of myself, to push aside my selfishness, might carry the expectation that I'll do it all the time. It might invite further guilt when I cannot pull it off consistently. Better to let them think it's not a possibility, than to show them what of me they're missing.

Oh, Lord. I've been a fool to think I need you less when  obviously I need you so much more. So many more people needing me...needing You...needing me to show them You. I have no time to lose, yet losing time is exactly what I've been doing on these Groundhog days. Instead of wallowing, the Bill Murray in me needs to wake up and finally get it right. Have mercy on me. Give me grace and strength. I need you. Please, show them You through me.

Role Swapping Part 3

I've just finished week 7 of our great social experiment and I wonder where the time goes. It feels like we are still at the beginning instead of in the middle.

It has been working so well, that we started contemplating if this is something we could actually do for longer than just 3 months. We knew they had permanent positions available and began discussing the possibility of expressing interest in one of them. After stewing for awhile about it, I finally just told God that if He wanted me to do this, they would have to approach me. The very next afternoon, my boss and the rest of the staff decided I should work there full-time and set things in motion to make it happen.

After much, much prayer, we've decided that I'll accept the position. 
 
I'm learning a few things. I think I've been overwhelmed, and slightly depressed, for awhile. Maybe years. I think the fog I've been living with is starting to clear, just enough to realize it's there, but not quite enough to see with any great clarity. 

I have things I wonder, too. I wonder if my guilt at loving my job is true or false. I really believe that this is the best thing for our family at this time. Shawn has vision for schooling the kids, developing a relationship with the boys, strengthening his relationship with the girls, and even whipping our home into shape. He is really enjoying the sleep that comes with knowing that paychecks are consistent. I am enjoying not being solely responsible for all of the above. I love feeling like I actually completed something at the end of each day. I love coming home to the kids and enjoying them. I love that my relationship with my teen daughter is so much healthier, now that we aren't fighting about cleaning the house all the time. And I love the new found confidence my 6yo son with a diagnosed anxiety disorder is displaying, now that he has his dad around to pour into him.


And yet, I feel a bit guilty and selfish for loving all those things. It almost feels like the death of a dream. I kept hoping that, one day, I would magically get better at the whole homeschooling/home managing thing. I secretly wonder if God just gave up on me and gave me an out. It's humbling to admit that you can't cut it in your chosen profession, especially if your chosen profession is raising children. But, my husband is so grateful that I'm doing this. Whatever God's motives for working this out, there is grace for this, and I am grateful, too.

Role Swapping Part 2

Week two is completed of our social experiment and here's an update: The first week, I came home exhausted every night. The baby was still waking in the night to feed so I wasn't getting much sleep. Plus, I chose not to pump during the day so that my daytime supply would decrease as she does well on formula. Unfortunately, that caused a clogged duct which led to mastitis. However, I was able to recognize the signs early enough to get on antibiotics and didn't miss any work. 

And, I'm still dealing with a back injury from a month ago. I'm in physical therapy (which seems to make it worse) and beginning to think I have a herniated disc. Ugh. But, even with pain, I've managed to be functional. Yay!


This past week, the baby slept through the night and that helped tremendously. I'm beginning to have a bit of mental/physical energy left at the end of the work day. I still haven't figured out the best start time. I think it's probably 7:00 am. Seems to work best for my energy level and for the patients. I have some that would prefer to get therapy over before breakfast.

At the end of the week, I felt groggy and disconnected from the family. I'm having trouble remembering to pray for them as much as I used to. Plus, it's hard to engage when I first get home. I just want to escape into facebook. I've allowed myself to do just that, but I don't plan to this week. 

The kids don't seem any worse for the wear. They seem happy to see me at the end of the day, but nobody seems distraught if they see me leave, and they're pretty matter of fact about the whole thing. 

Here's what I've noticed about the whole thing: 

The boys seem to be doing better. I realized that they really benefit from having Dad around more. They were running me ragged and really need a heavier hand than I was giving them. Shawn is much better at consistency than I am. 

The house is still a mess with Shawn at the helm, but I have no guilt about it and it's awesome! I realize that I've lived with guilt about everything home-related for years. I have ADD and I struggle with housekeeping, and that is putting it so mildly it's almost laughable. Even when the mess is under control, there is always so much more that can/should be done. I'm pretty good at relaxing anyway, but not without guilt.

That being said, I also realize that I need to contribute when I get home. I plan to do so, I just need to get the exhaustion under control, first.

Without the messy house coming between us, I think I'm getting along better with my type-A teen. I'm able to enjoy her without feeling judged for being a slacker or judging her for being to harsh with her younger sibs about cleaning up. It's a good thing.

On the flip side, I feel completely disconnected from my husband. He seems to be struggling a bit to find his way in this new role. We love our kids, but let's face it. He has the harder of the two jobs. He's not used to all the different personalities and sin natures asserting themselves in his face all. day. long. Just feeding all of them is a major feat! He is worn out at the end of the day, too. I'm also biting my tongue...a lot. He would be amazed at how much, because sometimes I forget, but I'm trying. It's much easier to see what needs to be done when you're not in the trenches.



We'll figure it out. For now, I'm enjoying the swap and continuing to take it one day at a time.

Role Swapping

My husband is self-employed. He is a handyman and is very good at what he does. Unfortunately, his business has taken a blow by the downturn of the economy. 

I am a SAHM, but I'm also an occupational therapist. I've been working a day or two per week to supplement our income this summer. It has helped, but we've wiped out our savings and things are tight.

Recently, I was offered a 13-week assignment working very close to home 6-8 hours per day. If we stick to our bare bones budget, we could bank several months worth of expenses by the time it's over. We decided that I would take it and he would stay home with the kids.

This is a big move for our family, even though it's only temporary. Switching roles is challenging. Letting go of our old roles will be challenging, too. 

We homeschool and I was really looking forward to teaching our kids this year. It's been a long time since I've looked forward to school. Here's an explanation of that. It's hard for me to give that up, even for a few months. It will be hard not to tell Shawn how to do everything or to express frustration when he doesn't do it my way. Which is actually pretty funny given that I feel like a failure as a home manager much of the time.

I feel like this is a big social experiment happening in my very own home. I intend to blog about it, the practical and the emotional. I start Monday.

One day at a time.