This Is What Fall Is About
Most of the Time I’m Sure I Suck at This
Way back when this picture was taken I sure thought I was good at this. (Picture credit goes to my mom who had the fancy camera way back then…in FILM *Gasp*)
Back, 14 years ago, when Denver was only 2. When I only had the one. When my co-parent was my own parents. When the biggest problem I dealt with was chronic BM issues (yeah, he’ll kill me if he ever reads this). When he was cute and adorable and obedient and kind and polite.
When life was “easy”.
Now there are three.
There is school. Homework. Teachers. Doctors. Specialists. Special Medicines. Bills. Cleaning. THREE kids. Doctors. THREE kids. Quirks. Hospitals. Marriage. Home repairs. Car maintenance. Cleaning. THREE kids.
Oh, did I repeat myself once or twice? Yeah. I know.
I don’t want to use the term “bad mother”…because, you know…it’s such a debate trigger.
Sometimes, though. Sometimes I look at myself and I see that I’m not good at this.
I don’t have patience.
I don’t have answers.
I don’t do the things that you’re supposed to. I love to read to myself, but get bored reading to my kids (shameful, I know).
I don’t have patience.
I don’t check homework every day after school.
I always miss deadlines for snack week, permission slips, all those things.
I don’t have patience.
I don’t give my kids daily baths. Or every couple of days. (But in my defense, my baths were 1x/week)
I use the TV as a babysitter.
I’m online too much (I’m trying to do better…some days I do better than others).
I don’t have patience.
…..
Are we detecting a common theme?
Sometimes I wonder what part of my brain actually thought growing up that I would grow into this ‘perfect’ mom. I saw myself doing it all. Crafts, dinner, cleaning…the perfect little household.
My ‘perfect’ has redefined itself into something that feels far from perfect for me.
It’s a process.
I’m working on redefining myself as a mom.
To snap less. To breathe and have patience. To do more cleaning. More cooking. Making sure I’m more involved in what my kids are doing in school.
I want to feel like I’m good at being a mom. Like I DESERVE the title. EVERY day. Not just now & then.
Junior Geeks
I’m a long time self-admitted geek of the Star Trek variety. I fell in love with Star Trek: TNG when I found it during its 4th season, and have never looked back.
Erik is both a sci-fi Aliens, Predator, Star Trek sort of Geek…and a horror Geek…and a few other Geeks I don’t understand.
Denver found Star Trek with the re-invention of Star Trek. He’s moved on to go back in time (thank you, Netflix) and watch EVERY episode of EVERY incarnation, swiped Erik’s movies to watch EVERY movie. The documentaries and anniversary specials, too. Since then he’s moved onto Battlestar Galactica, tried Dr. Who, and so on…
In the past eight or so months there’s a new sort of Geekling coming up in this house.
The girls are obsessed with all things Avengers.
Not just Avengers, though.
Comics.
They are making comics left and right – the one in this post was one of their first. One page, simple, with the battle of their beloved Avengers.
The obsession has grown so that their coloring books are painted on the front and back covers with comics. They swipe my printer paper and draw panels to fill in their stories. From super hero tales to stories about their cats…they are comic booking it up.
I, admittedly, am slightly clueless about comics. My Geek flag didn’t fly that far, even when I began my X-men addiction. I only have a few of those comics.
So we’ll venture into another realm of geekery.
Now…excuse me while I try to find some art classes for them…and seek out the perfect first comic for them both.
And considering their propensity to tear up anything they own, it will have to be one that it doesn’t matter if it ends up damaged.
A Vital Change
Three years ago we didn’t know.
Three years ago Denver had “asthma”. An occasional inhaler on the Cross Country field was needed.
A yearly, to bi-yearly round of antibiotics to treat pneumonia (which was my clue).
Then we got the diagnosis.
Last year was the first hospital stay.
1 full week.
The life-changing event still didn’t change much at home.
An occasional inhaler. A prescription for vitamin K. A small device for his percussion that he could carry with him it was so compact.
Fast forward another year.
Another hospital stay.
And Denver gets his first new car.
No, wait. It just costs as much.
The dreaded “vest”.
Or as Kennedy always calls it “The shakey-shake”.
We expected him to progress.
But not so fast.
Half the time I feel so blindsided.
I hate that he is so painfully aware of every change in his body.
I hate knowing that is sister will also progress one day, definitely before I’m ready, hopefully not before she’s ready.
Denver is smart, very intelligent, he researches and reads and wants to be a doctor after all of this. He gets it, and he lives it, and he tries to move beyond, although I think he had some trouble this year. His hospital stay came right at the start of Cross Country season and threw him off for the rest of the year.
Kennedy is showing signs of great intelligence.
Who knows, maybe one day one of them will be the doctor that finally cures this disease.
But for now they’re still my babies.
And they are tied to machines for at least thirty minutes out of every day.
And it hurts.
I don’t like that this is their ‘normal’.
I don’t like that Denver now has to add the “shakey-shake” into his schedule.
I never will.
Aim for the Sky – Denver’s Going Eagle Scout
A few years back, Denver joined the Scouts.
He was 11, we figured it was a fad, he’d grow out of it. He didn’t seem crazy-interested.
Just under 5 years later we’re staring down the end of the barrel.
Eagle Scout.
It’s a pretty darn big deal.
Even I know that.
He’s ranked up fast.
Been elected Quartermaster three times in a row.
It’s the one area of his life where I know he’s focused and intent and his behavior is on the mark. (How I wish that carried through at home, but that’s another post for another day).
If his application is approved, if his “Eagle Project” is approved, he could be Eagle Scout by next summer.
At the ripe age of 16.
I am a proud Mama…
Medical Rebellion – Not a Good Plan…
Teenagers are expected to rebel.
When they don’t you worry. I wasn’t huge on rebellion, but I found my own way to rebel – by ignoring my scholastic capabilities.
I never expected to be faced with a whole different sort of rebellion in my kids.
Medical rebellion.
It’s a dangerous game.
The “I feel fine, so I don’t need to maintain” game.
Now we have the new, added complexity of a compression vest.
Something the teen does not want to do.
Already he doesn’t do the things he doesn’t mind, and that only take a few minutes.
Maintaining seems like such a hassle when you’re fine.
Especially to a teenager.
Even a teenager that dreams of being a doctor.
Of all the things in my life that cause me stress and worry.
Medical rebellion resides at the top of the list.
Couldn’t he just give himself a mohawk and wear black and be all emo?
That I could handle.
I lived through that as a teen w/ best friends that weren’t…preppy…at all.
I could handle emo.
This medical rebellion crap?
It sucks.