Life Lessons

Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, things just aren't achievable.

They say that "money can't buy love" is the lesson... but that isn't the real lesson. The real lesson is that once evil, lies, manipulation, and deceit enter the heart - reversing the cycle has to be something the person WANTS to do. You can't MAKE them see what they don't want to see, because no amount of good can break through the barrier they have put up. You can't break a cycle unless the person who needs to break it most has a sincere desire to change.

No amount of time, love, or anything else will make someone love another person unconditionally. They have to WANT that. Sadly, sometimes that means that one person is able to manipulate another to turn against their own family members.

This, my friends is the sad fact of life. There are people out there who thrive on manipulation, deceit, and lies. They have spun such a sensational web that their twisted stories have become their reality. Everyone else is out to get them. Everyone else is the liar, they are being ganged up on. They refuse to see it any other way. Sometimes, this is one person. Sometimes, it is a group mentality.

Here is the thing. Whatever your dig with other people... be an adult. Try to work it out. Try to see things from their perspective. Love each other well.

It doesn't matter how truthful you are, someone will always doubt your honesty.
It doesn't matter how much you twist the truth, eventually the truth comes out.
The grim reality is, somtimes it's too late to do anything productive.
Sometimes, it's just much better to continue your prayers, let it go, and walk away.

The Horror of First Mammogram Call Backs

So, I had my first mammogram. Something that happens to every woman when she hits the magical age of 40.

It started right before my birthday last year, I started getting reminders in my mailbox that my patient account inbox had messages. I figured, yea, ok. Until one day I had to log in anyway... so I went ahead and looked at them. "Oh, joy of joys." my mind thought.

So I called to get switched to a different doctor... because I have a yearly physical coming up anyway... and I am tired of getting switched to random male doctors. I don't know about you, ladies... but the idea of having random men - whether they are professional or not - looking at my lady parts is just not too appealing. So I got everything situated. Then I pestered the HELL out of them for 6 months to get me an appointment with the doctor they had placed me with. Yea, you read that correctly... 6 months. But that is beside the point, at least I got it scheduled... and could relax.

Then came the day for my mammogram. I figured, well it will be easy peasy. I mean, I've made the right choices and have no family history of breast issues. I've breast fed.. all should be fine.

Enter my own personal version of hell. The call back. (And it's not the happy go lucky type of call back... no. It's a call back for more images.)

You see, they tell you when you get those first images done (4 total) that it is very common to receive a call back for first timers. They don't have a baseline to go by... so don't. freak. out. It's okay.

Don't freak out. Yea... that's a LOT easier said than done.

So, I got the call back.. I called and I scheduled my appointment dutifully (for a day and a half later). Enter overactive imagination.  Yea, that voice in my head worked overtime. The voice of reason inside my head kept telling me "everything will be okay. You'll see. You'll be fine. Just have faith." The evil little asshole voice kept saying, "Seriously? You have seen so much in the past year... and you still want to have faith? Why not add a little trust and pixie dust. This isn't Disney, sister!"

Yea, even the snarky voice in my head likes to hit me where it hurts.

I arrived at my appointment. A nervous wreck that hardly slept the night before. Checked in... and waited a few minutes. My name was called and I saw "DIAGNOSTIC" stamped in hot pink across the top of my order. Okay, now whose cruel ass joke was that? Seriously? This is typical, yet you're labeling it diagnostic? That doesn't scream all rainbows and marshmallows to me. It screams "Hey... we found something... and now we're going to let you stew on that a while."

So, I asked the tech. "Did they find something? I thought they just needed more images." Her response, "Let's just get some images and let the doctors look at it. We'll see in a few. Okay."

Well, you're just a happy, go lucky, torture chamber supervisor, aren't you?

So I obeyed. Let her manipulate me and contort me... and then was released after about 15 minutes to stew in the "what if" waters until someone came out to talk to me and see which way we were going to go with this game.

25 minutes. That's right almost 25 minutes I sat. Trying to occupy myself. Praying. Hoping. Praying more. Asking God for forgiveness and praying to Him that he wouldn't make my parents go through another child with cancer. I mean, holy shit, isn't one private hell walk enough? We have endured plenty, let this shit rest already.

Then, they finally called my name. We stepped into a small changing room by the desk... and I was vindicated. Yes. I was told my exam was good. I was free to go home and they would see me in a year.

I don't really think she expected my hug. Or my tears.

Environment Toxicity

Environment toxicity is a real deal.

I believe this. Beyond the shadow of a doubt.

We struggled with our older son in our last daycare. Every. Single. Day, there was some sort of an issue. He acted out. He didn't listen. The normal stuff. But then, she started with the strange things... the unbelievable things. The COMPLETELY out of character things.

We would pick him up and he would be sad. He would struggle with frustration at home. Was reluctant to share things, even with his little brother. He was angry, moody, and often would grind his teeth at night.

That relationship abruptly ended when the claims got completely outrageous, sparking my intervention ending in a gentle, but firm conversation. Two days later, the provider told us she wouldn't be willing to watch our older son any longer. I told her she wasn't going to watch either of them.

My mom, bless her, came up from Oklahoma. She dropped everything she had going on and flew up as soon as she could get here. No questions asked. I said I needed help, she was here at the drop of a hat. She watched the boys for us for nearly 3 weeks.

She didn't see the behavior.

On September 8, they started a new daycare/Pre-K "school". Since they started, we have had no issues.

Our older son was given a clear directive. They have a system for behavior. He is given goals and has a schedule they follow.

Since they started there have been NO ISSUES. Every one of the adults that deals with us says they would have seen some spark by now for behavior that was truly that drastic. Every. single. adult.

They love him. We have been told he will be no problem. He is an awesome kid. He is kind, considerate, loves to play and share, and that he follows every single directive.

At home, he is a new kid. He loves playing with and sharing things with his brother. Sure, they have tiffs... but they continue to grow closer and closer. His is no longer frustrated and angry. His teeth grinding has slowed drastically.

So, what has changed?

There is no more toxic environment.

He is surrounded by positive people every day. They treat him with kindness and respect, and they give him the benefit of the doubt. If he steps off the line, they direct him back onto the line. They don't just yell and try to force him to be something he is not.

He is a kid. They understand that. It's amazing the difference it has made.

Great Loss

How do you do it?

How do you keep it together when you miss someone more than words could ever express?

How do you get through loss?

Truthfully? You don't.

Let that sink in for a moment.... you don't. You just go through the motions... you do what you have to do to keep things moving... but you never forget. It never gets better. It never goes away. The void is there forever.

February 24 will mark 17 years since that awful day. The day my brother parted ways with this life and joined his ranks in Heaven. 17 years.

The pain subsided. I understand no one lasts forever... but the void still remains. There are good days and bad days. There are times when I just want to curl up and cry all day. But I put on a brave smile and go out into the world.

God has given me two of the most incredible gifts in my sons. They are endless sources of smiles and laughter. They give me purpose. They keep me grounded. At times, they even drive me a little bit crazy - but it's a good crazy.

They give me a reason to be... to smile... and to find something amazing in each and every day.

Until them, finding joy in each day was a lot more difficult.

Every single person is different. Some of us grieve openly.... others, like me, keep it all inside. I write. I sing. I try to find reminders.

I wrote a LOT.

To this day, hearing "I'm Turning Japanese" or "Brown Eyed Girl" on the radio sparks a huge smile.

I love looking at pictures and cherishing the memories. When you lose a loved one, you are left with just that.

Memories.

The best part of memories is that they are yours. Forever. No one can take them away from you.

How long is this going to take?

On the evening of Friday, May 15, 2015,  one of my worst nightmares was partially realized. Our 18 month old son tripped and fell right into the corner of our bed frame (which is oak and comes to a sharp corner - one of the precious few sharp corners in our house). There wasn't a comforter on the bed at the time, so there was nothing to buffer the blow.

I immediately picked him up and rushed into the kitchen to try to get some ice. When I looked down, his blood was on my chest and arm. I looked at him, and it was spilling down his face. I wanted to hug him and cry... but I couldn't. I didn't want him to panic.

Instead, I yelled to his father to bring me some clean, wet rags. I wanted to use one as a cold compress with the ice to hopefully stop the bleeding... and the other to clean my precious boy's face and hopefully help calm him in the process. 

I managed to get him calmed down as I sent his father to get me a band-aid. Making sure not to remove the rag for longer than I had to in order to check on the status... it appeared that, by some miracle, he may have impacted the side more than the actual corner…which spared him a deep gash, instead making a small L shaped cut.

That being said, it still bled. We still needed to get it checked out. So, once everything was under control, and we had someone in control of our older boy, off to the ER we went.

We arrived at about 6:30p.

To wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

All the while, Snow Monkey was giggling, dancing, bumming cookies off of a friend, and just being his normal, happy little self. 

We got into a room at 7:45p. 

The resident came in, then had a staff physician in at 8:00 p. 

They put the numbing gel on his forehead at 8:30.... 

At 9:30 the resident came in with his sewing kit.

There was some debate as to whether they could just glue the cut and go with that, but the staff physician urged them to go ahead and stitch the wound shut and then use glue as it was located on his forehead. 

Two stitches and 4 hours after the initial injury occurred, we were back home.. safe and sound. Snow Monkey had eaten and was on his way to dream land... and I was in for a restless night of checking on my little sweetheart.

Of course, I didn't need to be so diligent, he was perfectly fine... but mommy instinct kicked in and I found myself checking up on him several times.

Flying

To the stewardess on the flight between Minneapolis and Oklahoma City:

I realize you may be fairly new to the job. I also realize you probably don't have children... but please try to understand...

1. We are seasoned travelers. Both of our children have been on airplanes several times and are used to them. That being said, we already know that there are 3 masks on the right side of the aircraft and only 2 on the left.
2. Given that knowledge, we understand that our child in arms should stay on the side of the aircraft with the proper oxygen mask availability in case of an emergency.
3. Children are funny creatures. By making us switch seats, you caused our 3 year old to be upset. Causing other passengers distress until we were able to calm him.
4. Once we switched and everyone settled, the 1 year old decided it was time to play a few fun games.
5. The basic law of toddler-hood states that there is always more fun to be had on the other side of the aisle...until you are on that side, then there is more fun on the other side. This game can go on for hours. It is futile to remind us every single time the baby shifts to the "wrong" side of the aircraft as his position will shift frequently.
6. Rest assured, in the event of an emergency, we WILL take care of the babes. We WILL make sure they have oxygen masks. Therefore, you can rest. You have let us know, your job is done.

To the man and woman on our flights returning home. You know who you are. You gave up your seats and moved - whether this was a thoughtful gesture or purely selfish desire to not sit next to a toddler is irrelevant - thank you.

You realized that flying with a small child is challenging. You both had window seats - his favorite spot on the airplane. You both let us have your seat so he could travel securely and see out the window. He really enjoyed his flights because you were able to move. He loves to fly - almost as much as he enjoys his personal space. So, thank you for allowing him that space.

I hope you were pleasantly surprised that the flight was relatively peaceful and neither of our boys threw tantrums. We know how to keep them entertained and happy. But you deserve some credit for your assistance. You will never know how helpful you were.

Retrospective

Things I sometimes wish I had the guts to say out loud....

In retrospect, I don't think you care for children very much. Admit it, it's ok. Maybe you did at one point, but then decided somewhere along the way that the idea of being around children day in and day out wasn't really something you were completely cool with... We all have those revelations.

In retrospect, I should have seen it a LOT sooner than I did.

Maybe the time you made him sit from noon until 5:30 with food in his mouth. He didn't like it, you refused to let him spit it out. Instead he had to sit at the table all day long. He didn't get a nap. He didn't get to play. He just got to sit there with his food stuffed in his cheeks because you refused to bend. (FYI, this caused us a huge issue...for quite a while. He would cry when he bit into something he didn't like and refuse to spit it out. Thanks a lot for that. Thankfully, with gentle guidance, I was able to teach him it's ok to spit things out if they don't taste good to you - because not everyone enjoys every single flavor they encounter in life. Now, we work on the resistance to try new things because they look different.)

Maybe it was when he would make himself get sick at least once every couple of weeks because he knew he would get sent home. We would dutifully pick him up and take him to R&R care the next day. They would gently remind us that he wasn't ill and we really shouldn't bring him to their facility. I spent many hours scratching my head and puzzling over what could be causing his sudden attacks of tummy trouble.

It wasn't until I sat down and urged you to help me figure out the issue and try keeping him a couple of times when that happened, as long as there were no other concerning factors, that you tried my suggestion and found that he was actually forcing himself to get sick. (How terrible must things have been going that a 1.5-2 year old was forcing himself to get sick just to go home?)

Maybe when, day in and day out, you were putting our son in time out. Multiple times a day. Often for completely petty crap - so petty you couldn't even "recall" the reason, often claiming you'd had him in so many times you'd lost track. 

You had once stated you hoped he wasn't going to take the place of your trouble maker kid when he left. I should have seen an issue then. I had a feeling you would project your expectation of him being a trouble maker onto him. But I had no idea how badly you would treat him. I had no idea you would be so hard on an innocent child just because he has a clever way of figuring out his boundaries.

Every single day, we would cringe when we asked if he was a good boy. It was funny that he might only get reprimanded once, if at all, if anyone else cared for him... but if you were the primary for the day, he would spend damned near the entire day in time out. You even sent a scathing letter home that when we were picking up was not the time to discuss how our child's day went. Well.. when else are we supposed to ask, genius?

Maybe it was when you would penalize him for being even one minute late in the morning by not feeding him anything at all. Letting him sit and watch his peers eat, while he got to sit with nothing. Not even a piece of toast. Not even a glass of milk. For what? Was it really THAT hard to go upstairs and put a piece of damned bread in the toaster, or maybe get a couple of graham crackers for him to eat? Seriously? 

Maybe it was when you came to me telling me my little one... at 9 months old... was being mean and hitting other kids, seriously - any person who deals with children knows this is a normal developmental communication skill in small children. I began to wonder if my oldest wasn't trying to let us know how bad things were. 

Our beautiful older son became more and more angry. More and more resistant. Acting out and throwing temper tantrums. Throwing toys. Often grinding his teeth at night to the point of waking up in pain. Worrying himself literally to the point of illness. Begging not to be taken back to daycare the next day, begging me to keep him and his brother home. We thought he was being overly dramatic. Perhaps he was trying to look out for his baby brother in his own way, trying to make sure the small one wouldn't go through the same hell you'd been putting him through.

At Christmas, you told me they made too much unnecessary noise. I asked what you meant, and they piped up with their little back and forth minion banter (that's what I called it, not loud, just noise. A back and forth exchange of little "ahh" noises.). They would make this when the baby was too young to talk. They came up with this method of communication because they understood each other and always knew where the other was.

Maybe that was so one would always know the other was okay.

We really started to grow concerned when our older son, who loves everything related to Disney and Disney Cruises... and who loves to travel... would say he didn't want to go on another cruise ever again. He kept saying he didn't like Mickey anymore and that he didn't want to go anywhere ever again. He even stopped wanting to look at pictures of our trips and watch videos on youtube. This thought disturbed us. We were wondering what spurred this sudden reluctance and lack of enthusiasm for travel. (What did you tell him?)

Believe me, we have heard some pretty appalling things come out of our 3 year old with regards to his time at your home. I am ashamed I didn't pull him out a LOT earlier. I am supposed to care for my kiddos... and that includes making sure they are getting loving and nurturing care when they aren't in my home. If he had told me about these things when he was in your care, rest assured, there would have been ramifications to what you did. I wish there could still be.

I really hope the reason he didn't tell me about this when he was in your care wasn't because you had threatened him. 

See, when I tried to make suggestions, you never listened. I suggested alternatives to timing him out, including sitting with him and explaining what was upsetting you about his actions. You would throw up your hands and say you'd tried everything and nothing was getting through to him. When I told you I really wasn't sure what to do, as he didn't act like this at home most of the time, you rolled your eyes as if you didn't believe me. (For the record, I have photos to prove what an awesome kiddo he is at home. He's helpful, he loves his brother, and he loves to be around his family and friends.)

Honestly, I'm glad things ended this way. Truth be told, in my opinion, you waited longer than you should have to exit the business. I will refrain from writing what I really think here. But I am grateful to the Lord above for your decision to close - because I really think He had everything to do with that decision. 

Thoughts of what must have happened to our little man from 7:30a-5:45p from Monday-Friday cross my mind on occasion. But I have to push them away. They are purely supposition at this point. But the other part of this is that I have to actively keep myself from thinking of what he must have gone through.

For the record, our son isn't perfect. We don't go around claiming our little peanut would "never do this" or "never do that". He is a rambunctious 3-year-old. The fact of the matter is he DOES sometimes do things that require redirection, and sometimes even time outs. He is testing the boundaries - and believe me, he is good at it.

What little boy isn't?

But, he is nowhere near the level of the children you see on Nanny 9-1-1. Which is what you would have us believe. He is not a bad child all. the. time. Sometimes, yes. But not every minute of every day.

We took him to other daycares at times, and they never had a problem. We took him on cruises and tested his limits (there is so much to do on them, he often wouldn't want to sleep or nap... he'd fall asleep late and wake up early). Never a complaint from the child facility about him, other than what a sweet and mannerly little boy he is - always.

So... riddle me this... why was it that you were the ONLY person for which he would act like a rotten little heathen that refused to listen?

Why is it that, at his new daycare, he has only required redirection a few times... and he has only been timed out one time in almost 7 weeks?