I was bummed the other day when I discovered that I had slept through a very exciting and loud thunderstorm. I love thunderstorms because they are few and far between here in my part of California. And although we need rain desperately, I think the weather is making me blue.

Worse than winter blues, this weeklong rain has made every morning a drag. I feel unhappy, grumpy, just plain blah. Today the sky was light and I felt happy. Not soon after the rain started again.

I'm looking forward to the sun and the heat that will grace us this weekend. Hopefully it will light a fire under me, take me outside, and fill my backyard with laughter.

Although I have a small window in my home office, I enjoy taking my lunch outside on the patio for a bit of vitamin D. Some days, after work, I steal into the backyard and sit against the back of the house, facing south, and open a book. I long for that warmth on my face as I read and the sounds of neighborhood swirl around me.

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.

The D Word

Two days last week Samantha's teacher told us she was worried about Samantha. She was falling asleep in class and not completing her work. Mind you, the child is just like me--complete nerd, so this is really out of character for her. The teacher is well aware of the missing thyroid because I count on an extra set of eyes when things start to go awry.

So when Friday rolled around, I got a call from the school that Samantha was falling asleep on the bench at lunch and didn't want to play. The multi-tasker in me had the pediatrician's office on the line before I even got out of the driveway. After a stat order and an A-okay on the blood test (thyroid/brain function normal), Al and I started to analyze things to see if we could narrow down a culprit. Was it the fear stemming from the earthquake swarms? Was it her food intake?

Well the latter fit best. Samantha is a pasta and meat kid. She hates vegetables and fruit, and really I could go on and on. But after the stat order request the doctor wanted to physically observe her, check weight and height since last visit--all indicators of hypothyroid. Everything was in the clear and then the big bomb came.

Depression.

I assured him that we have been observing her--carefully. We notice when she gets sad and upset or worried. His main concern was how she is handling the aftermath of Al's heart surgery. And he was not far off the mark.

Last week I went into work. Al took Samantha to school, but I was at home when she left. The stress came when I wasn't at home when school was over. We adults might think it unnecessary or irrational, but for her it is totally plausible. Daddy kissed her goodbye and four hours later he was whisked off in a helicopter and away from home for a week.

She saw me collapse into sobs at the dinner table and there were a few nights when I didn't get home until after she was in bed. The possibility of Daddy never coming home, never giving her kisses again was real. I can't even imagine what it would feel like to be 5 and know that there was a good possibility my daddy might never come home.

Overall, Samantha seems to be coping the best she can. She is a wreck when one of us is hurt or not feeling well. We know why and while her fear will never totally go away, she'll learn to cope.

Hopefully.

A moment

I had "a moment" today in between pulling the recently puked-on laundry out of the dryer. I wouldn't change a thing about my life. I may not have dreamed of cleaning snotty noses or asking my boss if I could call her back because my two year old was vomiting outside my office door, but I wouldn't change a thing.

I wouldn't change the short time I got with my Grammy or the stroke that left her with Alzheimer's. I got to spend some silly moments with the teenager and the child she was before me. I got to see her laugh so hard she'd fall over. And I got to hold her hand one more time before she died. I loved that woman and I miss her tremendously, but I'll never forget her spirit.

Nor would I change my mother's cancer. It completely sucks and at the beginning I would often curl into a ball and sob until I had nothing left, but it has taught me about patience and about life. I have learned to take things in stride. I used to be so uptight before her diagnosis. I even had one of my best friends notice how calm and level-headed I became. I'm so fortunate to have my mom in my life and to live around the corner from her. Some people wouldn't want to live so close to their parents, but it's worked for us.

And I certainly wouldn't change the helpless and debilitating postpartum depression that took hold of me after I had Alyssa. I am so thankful for my friend, Shannon, and my family for holding me together. It taught me how important it is to ask for help when I needed it most. I'll forever try to make up the first 8 weeks of Alyssa's life and the guilt I feel for that depression, but there is a love for my children that even depression couldn't take away.

And lastly, I wouldn't change my husband's heart surgery. It renewed my faith in something larger than me. I reached out to my family and friends and they were there for us. I found I was clam and collected. I could be the strong one when I needed to be, but my husband is the other half of me. I found myself appreciating him as my husband and the father of our girls even more. I found myself loving life even more.

I wouldn't change a thing about my life. It has shaped exactly who I am, the woman my children and my husband love, the daughter and sister I am, and the woman I want to be. I love my life!