Evils

When I woke this morning I thought someone had kicked me in the head:
pounding, couldn't see straight, throbbing--migraine.

The culprit is the darn medicine the neurologist gave me for the swelling in my hands. It's a heavy-duty, anti-inflammatory. It hasn't done a thing for the swelling, but it has helped with the pain.

This week, however, I started to notice a pattern: if I didn't take the medicine the same time each day then a headache started. This morning it finally caught up with me.

I would rather deal with the pain and swelling than with a migraine.

I've been down this road before and I had one month of withdrawal symptoms before I kicked the culprit prescription. Fun stuff.

So it's holistic for me: Ice, braces, and acupuncture until they can figure out what this really is.

Finding time

One to four nights a week Al and Samantha go off to Shrek rehearsals at 6. I finish work at 4:30 and need to have dinner on the table by 5:30 when Al gets home, otherwise they don't get to eat until 9 or 10 at night. Eight-year-old children don't process well without food, I've found.

It feels crazy. And I have some guilt about what I can manage to put on the table--fish sticks are getting a little tired.

But I'm finding time to relish the quiet, alone time I get with Alyssa before she's off to bed. She loves to help me clean up, fold laundry, water the plants. Simple and lovely all at the same time. We can sit and cuddle and get all that one on one time that a second child doesn't always get.

I love how she just wants me to kiss her freckly moles until she giggles. My sweet-pea.

Bend

Tonight I'm trying compression gloves meant for arthritic hands. I can't seem to get the swelling under control. And I feel like it's going to my left hand now, although I don't think it's visible. Could my left hand feel sorry for my right?

The neurologist put me on an anti-inflammatory drug, which keeps the pain under control but does nothing for the swelling. So tomorrow I get to have a whole slew of blood tests to rule out hypothyroidism and rheumatoid arthritis.

I hope I bleed quickly.

NieNie

For Mother's Day I asked Al for a book titled "Heaven is Here." He thought it an odd request since he knew very little about the author, only that she was burned in a plan crash.

I found it fitting for my life. I've been reading the Nienie Dialogues on and off for a couple of years. But lately I've found so much inspiration in Stephanie's words. I look forward to reading her blog every day. What an amazing soul!

~~ * ~~

Lately I've been having a pity party some days and other's just downright blue. I've got what appears to be tendinitis in both of my wrists and hands. It's affecting just about every aspect of my life. And for those who know me, they know I love my job as an Editor and to paint, garden, and sew in my spare time.

For too long I worked through the pain or ignored it until the swelling didn't go away. (I ignored this for 6 months!) Suddenly I couldn't pin a piece of fabric or put a fork to my own mouth without wincing. And lately, as it's become worse, I'll stand at the kitchen sink after Al and Samantha have gone off to rehearsal and Alyssa is playing and I'll silently cry. Everyday tasks have become so challenging. Making dinner that includes cut up vegetables, gardening, and vacuuming have become impossible.

This weekend, I asked Al if he would mind trimming the tree with some direction from me. I'm usually the determined, get-it-done-now gal, but I've had to walk away from the things I enjoy and let them be. Can I just tell you how hard that is!

I'm learning, both at home and in my job, how to let go. It's difficult for me and sometimes I feel inadequate. But it's also humbling to realize how important and significant hands, feet, etc. are to our lives. Right now I'm leaning on Al and, thankfully, he's not resentful. After all, I've taken care of him too.

At some point every day lately I find myself on the brink of tears whether it's the pain or simply that I'd like to sweep the kitchen floor. My kids are learning to fold the laundry, clean the bathroom, and generally be helpful without complaint. And for them and Al, I am grateful.

"Who cares!"

"Who cares!"

Those two little words can mean so much. 

My eight year old has grown increasingly irritated with her 5-year-old sister. Who knows if it's peers or age or both. I'm no psychologist.

But I'm thinking Samantha learned a good lesson tonight. 

Last weekend I bought Alyssa a desk at a garage sale. She was so excited--a desk just like sissy's. I painted it and put it back in her room. Today I added the handles and lined the drawers. Alyssa was so excited. 

So after ballet, Alyssa ran to her room, waiting to show Sissy her new, finished desk. Samantha rolled her eyes and mumbled audibly, "Who cares!" Samantha did follow and take a peak but then proceeded to her room with a sigh.

Tonight before bed, I asked Al if he had seen Alyssa's finished desk yet. So we followed Alyssa to her room and Al asked if Samantha wanted to see it. There may have been eye rolling or a "who cares" somewhere between the kitchen and her bedroom. Alyssa's response was "It's okay, Dad. Sissy doesn't love me." It was so very nonchalant. 

Samantha just stood in the doorway, stunned. I looked at her as I was clearing off Alyssa's bed and said, "It hurts, huh?

"When you roll your eyes or say 'Who cares!' it doesn't go unnoticed."

Samantha put herself to bed. 

After I kissed Alyssa I went into Samantha's room to find her buried under the covers, crying and hurt. Of course she loves her sister.

It won't stop the eye rolling or the sighing, but maybe Samantha will attempt to hold her tongue.

Parenting

Never doubt the lengths a parent will go through to make his child feel accepted, loved, secure, and confident. 

Last weekend I finally made good on my mom's birthday present: a painting workshop using Annie Sloan chalk paints at Loot in Soquel. We could not have asked for a better day--it was 75 in Soquel! It ended up just the two of us with the instructor and we got to play with paint. It was the perfect day to spend, pre-Mother's Day, together doing something we both enjoy. 

While we were there my phone beeped with a picture of my daughter, with a numbered sticker on her chest. So Al had something up his sleeve, eh?! As it turns out, Al had been conversing with the producer about allowing Samantha to watch the audition process so she'd understand what to do next time. As they were leaving, Al thanked the producer and Samantha blurted, "My dad would make a great Shrek! He looks just like him." Next thing you know Al and Samantha have numbered stickers on their chests. 

They both sang and Al read some lines from Shrek the Musical. That night they got a call--they both got parts. Al is Lord Farquad's henchman, Thelonius, and Samantha is Little Bo Peep.

In my opinion, this is the best mother's day gift I've received yet: my husband, taking this step with Samantha, giving her the confidence to audition. She's wanted to do this for so long, but shies up when the time comes around. She's such a social butterfly! 

The next three months will be busy with rehearsals 4 days a week, but Alyssa and I are ready to take on the early dinners together to help them on their way. 

I'm so proud of my Thelonius and Little Bo Peep!

Not Enough Time

Nearly 6 months have gone by without so much as a peep from me. I haven't even had time to read my favorite blog links!

Life with two kids, softball, dance, and two jobs keeps us scheduled for the basics, but not much else. We've taken to scheduling even our meals, otherwise we end up eating dinner at 8. That doesn't work too well with 7:30 bed time.

And here we are in May, softball finished today and Saturday dance recital practices are just beginning; there are only three weeks left of preschool and a month left for Samantha.

And faster than the days move, the girls are changing. I've watched my confident 7 year old become shy and embarrassed. It's painful to watch, but it seems to be part of life for a second grader. I honestly can't remember a time when I didn't know what embarrassed meant. And she's growing so much--feet only two sizes away from mine!

Alyssa has become a beautiful little dancer. She's always dancing and anxiously awaiting her time back on "the big stage." She's dancing her recital dance to the same Tinker Bell song Samantha danced for her first recital, which makes it so special for me.


For now, Al and I try to take all the quiet time with the girls we can get--even if it means watching crazy improv dances for an hour every night!