Packing

At first I found packing to be exhilarating.  It was so much fun to see items go into a box, knowing that when we opened it later it'd be fun like on Christmas morning.

Now that I'm past the easy stage and entering the 'can I live without this for a few months' I have noted that it's almost like a slow death.  The death of this current place in life.  Even though we are most excited about what is coming next, there are still many dreams that will not see fruition in this home.  Plans for a basement master, larger deck to house my outdoor furniture, and tree house expansions, for example, are no longer talked about.  Then there are the memories of how we bought the place and how we've slowly molded it to a home over the past few years.  Our two boys were conceived in this house, and one was born within these walls.

Call me a sentimental fool, but as I'm packing up kitchen spices and equipment that I won't see for a long while, I'm saddened by the process.  Of course I can always open the boxes up if there is an item I really do need to use.  I think though that ripping the tape off the box is akin to removing a bandaid--no matter how you do it there is still some stinging involved.  The item will still have to be placed back in the box and I'll still have some lingering sorrow over leaving.

Change is hard, but I know it will be worth it in the end.  It always has been.  Some of the dearest people in my life have entered because of change.  For now I'll just remind myself of the great adventure we'll have, and the amazing new friends who will join me for the ride.

Estate Auction

Tissue Notice, I went through more than a handful writing this!

Yesterday was my grandparents' estate auction.  I had been dreading this event from the moment I heard it was happening.  The idea of strangers pilfering through their belongings and then hauling them away was unsettling.  I told Phil that I didn't want to even be there.  However, I knew myself well enough to know that, as hard as it may be, if I didn't go I'd regret it down the road.

The original plan was to get there ahead of time, see everything laid out along with the antiques that even my mother had never seen, and then journey on down the road to Omaha for a lego robotics convention.  Plans changed though as Phil and I both had a rough night of sleep.  Miles didn't sleep worth a hoot which meant I didn't either, and Phil couldn't sleep as he is just starting to walk this grief stricken road of losing a beloved grandparent.  His Papa Zlomke passed early Friday morning and with it being the last day of the trimester Phil was so busy he didn't get to process that information until evening.  With a heavy heart, Phil wasn't so sure that he wanted to try and pretend to be chipper and drive all over the countryside.  We are learning that grief is very taxing on one's energy.

We ended up staying for the whole auction.  My heart paused when I saw everything laid out.  There were so many things I had never seen, so in that respect it was like any other auction.  There were just as many objects that had lots of memories attached, trinkets from around the house, and the furniture.  Like Phil said, seeing grandpa's chair sitting empty against the wall was the final piece of closure that yes, he's really gone, this era is really over.  It was the hardest part of the auction.  That, and seeing the bed that they breathed their last in, and their chairs.  I kept having to turn my head and not look, because as upsetting as it was to see them empty of my grandparents' presence, the times I glanced and saw strangers sitting and trying them out was worse.  Part of me wanted to run and shoo them away, and the other part agreed with my dad when he said 'I just want to tell them to treat them well as there are so many precious memories'

I am very glad to have stayed the whole time.  It allowed me to complete the journey of losing my grandparents in the physical realm.  Moreso, I am proud to have been there to support my parents and aunt who were all very close.  My dad worked side by side with my grandpa for almost a decade and was just as much of a son to grandpa if not more than his own.  I am glad that God gave me the strength to get through the day with only minimal tears, so I could be the arms that held them all tight and offer the love they needed.

At the end of the auction there were some boxes of random items that didn't sell.  We offered to take a load to goodwill for my Aunt and ease her burden.  I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the lamp that had sat by my grandma's chair sitting amongst the boxes.  I had secretly wanted that lamp, but didn't feel it right to ask as I already had so many of their possessions.  Aunt Connie said to take it and Phil said keep it and I smiled as I loaded up the lamp.  My friend told me that my guardian angel knew I needed it and saved it back for me.  Phil and I sorted through the boxes last night (some had books which we wanted to keep).  I opened one and there on the top was grandpa's glass.  I caught my breath and then ran sobbing into Phil's arms, I wasn't expecting to see that.  I was surprised that it wasn't with the rest of the set, and I held it back to keep for now.

This has been a hard road to journey.  I am grateful for the love that has surrounded me.  Phil never once questioned my need to go, he supported me through every trip.  Driving us down, holding my hand when we left while I stared out the window with tears streaming down my face.  Our budget is very tight and the gas allotment allows for one out of town trip a month.  Financing never came up, if I needed to go we went.  I didn't realize this until after the fact and it caused me to cry tears of gratitude.  It's made my love for Phil grow, and to appreciate that he is emotionally tuned in to my needs.  I just hope that I can be half as amazing to him as we say goodbye to his grandpa this week as he has been for me.

This week's rabbit race

This has been the busiest of weeks for us!  Monday was a partial school day, then lots of social gatherings for the children.  It was so great for them to get out of our abode and mingle and laugh and enjoy the great outdoors with the fantastically unseasonably warm weather.

Tuesday the kids were absolutely nutty.  In three hours from waking I have not heard so many no's, screaming, or crying in the weeks since Abi has come home combined.  We even had a knock 'em down drag it out fight that I had to untangle.  Most of our schooling day was spent on how to interact appropriately.  There was a whole lot of 'circle up' time.  Circle up is where we sit on the floor holding hands.  Hurt feelings are discussed, better choice options offered, and a look each sibling in the eye and give a genuine statement of what you like about him/her (no 'I like your shirt' comments accepted), followed by hugs.  In light of this when another homeschooling friend asked about getting together at the park I practically jumped into her arms through the phone lines in joy.  It was just what we all needed.  Spending the whole afternoon at the park was amazing.  The kids burned off oodles of energy, reestablished working (and speaking!) together nicely,  and I got to soak up some sun and precious friend time.  We all came home tired but refreshed.  My pastor's wife met up with me that afternoon and helped me with some staging and tips for showing the place.  As if that wasn't enough, she said some very encouraging words that breathed life into my soul.

Today it was off to the races for us.  Early morning dental appointment, library, quick trip across town to get some homeschool materials from a friend, pb&j lunch (my idea of fast food!), a short rest for the kids while I packed up my sewing room, after school playmate, and then meeting with the contractor again.  Good news is being that we have done everything short of sending the rough draft of the blueprints his way!  I cannot believe how many thousands (yes you read that right, thousands) of dollars we'll save by doing the finishing work ourselves.  He even used some happy to our ears words like 'doable' and 'cheap for a new build' and 'if I quote you over your budget don't hire me'.

The bright turquoise room is now a lovely neutral (boring according to Abi) gray.  Our to do list is now down to almost nothing!  Two missing tiles in the master bath, transition floor piece in the main bath as well as one piece of trim that Menards was out of stock, rehang closet doors in the boys' and our rooms.  If we kick our rear into gear we could be ready to list one week earlier than planned.  If not, we'll be right on target.

I'll try and check in again before too long, but this is a crazy busy season for me right now.  As much as I miss writing on a daily basis, something has to give in order for me to accomplish the tasks that are before me.  I just wanted y'all to know that I'm still alive and kicking and that we're getting closer and closer to our dreams.

Oh By The Way...

...the realtor is coming in a hour.  Those words tumbled into my ear as Phil called me on his way home from work last night.  Panicked I flew into action and grabbed the kids to help me get the house looking halfway presentable (read: no immediate tripping hazards throughout the whole house).  I am grateful that it was a spur of the moment notice instead of long term.  I didn't have a chance to worry and fuss about getting everything just right.

I am not ashamed to admit I was mostly terrified the whole time she was here.  It is very nerve wracking having someone scrutinize your whole house from top to bottom.  Open each closet door (ha! at least the ones that have doors on them) and see all the skeletons tucked inside.  It felt like being in math class taking a comprehensive term final.  However, she was a very pleasant realtor with kind words and few concerns.  There are a few things that we could fix but shouldn't be deal breakers if we don't.  The only thing that she strongly suggested was painting the girls' bright turquoise room to a more neutral friendly tone.  One room to paint?  Yep, I can do that.

The high points were the compliments on the nice space we've created.  Finding out that the guest room in the basement is a conforming bedroom and we can list the house as a four bedroom home was wonderful news.  Knowing that we're selling at a time when the listings are few but the buyers are serious (they'd have to be or they wouldn't be trudging through snow and the bitter cold) puts odds in our favor of the house selling quickly.

The tough news to hear was my needing to clear more out of the home and remove pictures from the walls.  You want potential buyers to see the house, not the family who's living there.  I feel like I've already given away or packed up so much of our belongings that it stung to hear that it wasn't enough yet.  I guess it will be good practice for us all to go without for a while.  Who knows, perhaps in a few months when we go to unpack those boxes we'll wonder why we even bothered to keep what was inside.

When Sleep Desperation Kicks In

After a week of Miles waking up nearly every hour of the night I was beyond tired.  And Desperate.  Nothing sounded so good as a dark quiet screaming free night.  One that would hopefully included sleep.  I would have taken quiet so long as my sleepless nights didn't include him waking up screaming in my ear for various reasons.  Bad dreams, new teeth, developmental milestones (he's working on walking!), constipation, snuffly nose.  You name it, he was probably dealing with it.  Well, not just him, but Phil and I as well.  You know the nighttime noise level is bad when it wakes Phil up.  That man can sleep through the apocalypse and not notice.

I bemoaned to my friend about what to do.  Knowing that we are non traditional in our sleep accommodations she suggested the pack and play.  Maybe he just needed some space?  That had crossed my mind as well.  However, bending over and doing a dead weight lift in the middle of the night sounded as unhealthy as it did unpleasant.  The first night we tried a feather quilt on the floor, but that didn't offer enough touchable boundaries and he freaked out.  Then I had the brilliant idea of stealing the toddler bed away from Wesley.  We had used it once before to help Wesley transition out of our bed and into his own while pregnant with Miles, perhaps it would work again this time?  This is the earliest I've ever started moving a child out of our bed.  But desperate times call for some sort of action, right?

If you can imagine a 5'8" lady curled up nursing a 30" toddling baby, then you can envision what has been happening in this tiny bed.  I have decided that at this season of life I can nurse him to sleep, and then back to sleep once again, after that Miles can crawl up in our bed and snuggle next to us.  This has allowed me to get a few hours of the precious (quiet and touch free) sleep that I've been needing, but the closeness and security that Miles craves.

What did we do for Wesley?  A month ago this wouldn't have been an issue, he would have just slept in the closet nook.  However, since that's been dismantled and reconverted back to it's former closet glory, that option was out.  The kid probably would have been perfectly happy to have a sleeping bag, but to appease my concerns we set up a camping cot for him.  He has been on cloud nine.  He takes good care to ensure his blankets and pillows are arranged just right.  The cot has also been a wonderful new imagination spot.  Yesterday he figured out that he can drape the blankets down over the side and have a fort.  The cot has also become a puppet theater and a hideout from the lions.  Last night, true to form of our children and their odd sleep behaviors, Wesley slept underneath the bed instead of on it.  I now am waiting for the children to discover that they can tip the cot on the side and hide behind it and have snowball fights with socks, or something to that sort of endeavor.

This has reinforced the fact of life that I constantly forget.  Life is fluid, and what works changes as time progresses.  How long will this work?  Maybe last night was the last time that Miles will sleep in that little bed for many months.  Perhaps it will become the new normal. What I can guarantee is that we all have to adapt (especially me) and find what works best for the here and now.

Grandpa's Laugh

Saturday morning I awoke with tears streaming down my face.  I had a hauntingly beautiful dream that touched me deeply.

In the dream I was helping my sister get ready for her wedding.  She had her dress on and I was getting everything tucked and smoothed and just so.  She had thrown her hair up in a pony tail and I was chastising her that a bride needed something more special than a ponytail.  As I was putting bobby pins in her hair and making her hair lovely, I heard a hearty laugh.  I whipped around and there leaning in the doorframe with his head back and hands on belly was my grandfather.  I couldn't believe how dashing he looked.  In a tux, and looking about fifty years old, he was full of life and laughing heartily.  I ran over to embrace him and as I did I woke up.

 I cried for my loss of getting to see and hold him in my dreams.  I cried as I realized that I don't think he laughed with that full-of-life laugh of his after grandma died.  At least not that I heard.  I cried to know that I had an eternal glimpse of him.  I cried to know I wouldn't hear that laugh on this side of heaven.  And I cry now as I remember and memorialize that dream with words on this 'paper'.

Spoon Surprise

This morning I decided I would skim some of Wesley's oatmeal off and give it to Miles for breakfast.  I wasn't sure what to expect since Miles hadn't eaten oatmeal before, and the few times I've tried spoon feeding him it hasn't gone so well.  I spooned some yumminess and brought it to his mouth and Miles snatched the spoon away from me.  I assumed that he was going to chuck it to the floor as he'd done previously.  Instead, that little guy totally surprised me and started feeding himself!  I quit giving Miles silverware probably two months ago when he discovered gravity and found it more amusing to pitch the spoon over the side of the highchair than practice with it.  It was reminiscent of the first time he grabbed a toy and picked it up, I had no idea he could do that.  I rushed to grab the camera and enjoyed watching him self feed from a utensil through the viewfinder.  The expressions Miles made while eating were quite entertaining.  The only assistance he needed was getting the (thick and sticky) oatmeal onto the spoon otherwise he did all the work!

bringing food up

such a big spoon for a pint sized person!

yum, I like oatmeal

taking a break from the spoon and using fingers

I got excited when I saw him switch to his left hand

but then he switched back to his right, looks like I'll be the only south paw in the family

Siblings

This has been a long week of parenting and I'm only halfway through it.  The kids are cranky and have cabin fever.  They've tried going outside to play in the snow, but it's so cold that the time is very short before they are back in again.  There are fights, cruel words, stomping, tears, and other things that I'm trying to forget.  It's been enough to make me wonder why in the world am I choosing to stay home and home school these nutty people.

I know I'm not the only one to feel that way.  Even (more) veteran moms are telling me their kids have become cantankerous.  I'm sure there were days that my mom considered leaving us at a babysitters, shipping us off to boarding school, or being anywhere other than with us crazies.  So in honor of all us mommies who are parenting through some of the not so fun times with our kids I'm posting this picture.  A picture of siblings who grew up together and did all of the normal sibling stuff.  Even though we are spread apart geographically, our bond is strong.  None of us are very good at picking up the phone and calling 'just because' but when we get back together again just watch out because you won't be able to get a word in edgewise.  I love my brothers and sister and miss them dreadfully.  But when there are time and distance constraints on your relationship you appreciate every moment together.

Zach, me, Taylor (in back), Ken (front), Auntie Young, Mandy

This picture is my reminder for today that yes mothering is tough, and there are lots of days when I want to throw in the towel and be done.  This is one of my hopes for my children-- a deep bond with each of their siblings--that neither time nor space will break.  A bond that will last well after my life has ended.  If my children grow up to follow Christ and love their siblings as deeply as I do mine, I will consider my role in their lives a raging success.

Making Progress

This weekend we had a big push and we got a lot of work done on our to do list of things to fix up for selling this place.  I started friday by fixing up the stairs where a few of the edge pieces had fallen off.  That was my first experience using a finishing nail gun.  It was scary fun wielding such a powerful tool!

Phil tried his hand out with the gun that night only to find out that it was too strong for the kitchen kick boards we had selected.  Frustrated and tired we gave up and went to bed.  While sleeping, my brain came up with the solution of using the hand held nail gun.  Less power = success on getting those boards in place upon waking! The rest of Saturday was spent at church for a meeting and then with friends.

Sunday found me telling Phil that we had to have a work day or we were never going to make our goal.  We had avoided finishing up the trim work for three years, it was time to conquer.  Phil worked on the hallway while I spent the morning spackling and priming the living and dining room walls where the old trim had been.  We broke for church, lunch, and a few games and then headed back home.  Once the hallway was completed and painting finished we headed out for a super bowl gathering at his sister's house.  We left at halftime in order to get the kids in bed at a good time.  When we got home I suggested that we finish the job.  Everything was out from the walls, and the trim and saw were on the table (great time saver to not have to run back and forth to the garage to cut wood but huge mess maker!).  Phil took me up on it and he cut the trim while I put the kids to bed.  We got all of it done with the exception of one wall as there is a floor board that needs to be fixed before nailing the trim.

I feel like I can breathe a bit easier now that the trim work project is nearing completion.  All of the remaining tasks are small ones that require more time than energy.  It feels pretty good to get some of these home improvement skills.  Power sander, pneumatic nail gun, wall paper stripping, switching electrical outlets, and a pleasant surprise--I even reattached the fireplace mantle on my own.  It's going to take a lot more than those skills (or paying the contractor, we're still hashing those details out) to see our little dream home built this summer.  Next up, getting the realtor in here and telling us what else needs to be done to sell our abode!

What Social Anxiety Feels Like (to me)

A while back I mentioned that I have been struggling with social anxiety more and more.  This isn't a new phenomenon in my life.  I've just been more aware of how acute it has become ever since having a mild panic attack in Sams Club while pregnant with Miles.  Saturday I had a real bad time with it and wanted to share what social anxiety is like for me.

When going to an event or place that I'm unfamiliar with, or uncomfortable at, I get nervous. Butterflies begin flying in my stomach and soon group together to become tangled into a knot.  So I enter the social event with a stomach pain.  If there are too many unfamiliar people, or the group is tightly dispersed my checks flush, I feel flustered and my mouth gets dry.  As the flight or flight response kicks in all I want to do is high tail it out of the area.  If I can't get away which is usually the case, my fingers and toes get cold.  Sometimes to the point where they feel like they are asleep.  At this point I quit making eye contact and walk briskly around with my head down.  My arms are either crossed because of my stomach ache, or my hands are shoved deep in my pockets trying to regain warmth.  Sometimes I wring my hands out of nervousness.  Now I'm sweating profusely even though my hands are so dang cold I can barely feel them.  If I'm still in the situation, my breathing gets more shallow as the knot from my stomach rises higher making it hard to breathe.  Since I now am not taking in the full amount of oxygen, the area around my mouth and eyes start to get tingly.  Dizziness follows and now I'm just trying to hold on until it's over without making a scene.  I can't focus, don't talk, and if asked a question make curt remarks.   The panic attack in Sams Club was the only time I've escalated worse than this and my vision started to go dark like when you stand up too fast.  I'm guessing that if I hadn't stopped and forced some deep breaths I may have passed out.

Now that you know my secret struggle you may be wondering (as I am) what is she doing to help herself through this?  An excellent question to which I don't have an answer, but am open to suggestions.  The one thing I know is that as a member of a church with 800+ people attending on a weekly basis I will be faced with a trigger situation continuously until I have over come this issue.

What would you do if you suffered from social anxiety?