Consequences in Action

I love this kid. 

He's funny, energetic and is the highlight of the room. 

But he has another side. 

 First grade has been full of learning curves for Michael and for Mr. Sexy and I as his parents.  The parent-teacher conference we recently had brought a few things to light. What Mr. Sexy and I thought were minor issues at home were actually larger issues at school.  The past six months or so have been crazy for us.  But what's new?  However, I realize I have let Michael's behaviors fall to the way side more than I think I ever have.  Now we are seeing some of the effects. 

Michael is having a difficult time staying on task at school.  When he is on task he does his work slowly, meticulously.  If it's not perfect according to his standards, he is unhappy and will do it over if possible.  This behavior has caused him to not finish his work on a regular basis.  When asked to move on, I was told he cries about it.  Just about every day he cries.  (Yeah, my kid is THAT kid these days.) Up until very recently he was told to stay in during recess to finish his unfinished work.  Since he has told me how much he enjoys staying in, I have asked his teacher to send unfinished work home as homework and to force him outside to play.  I'm told even getting him out the door has been a struggle. 

Michael does have difficulty staying on task, even at home.  When doing something as simple as cleaning his dinner bowl, it can take him anywhere from 5-30 minutes.  This is with just about every task he is asked to complete.  

Now we set a timer for every task.  He can see it.  He can hear when it goes off.  Sometimes he gets his stuff done.  Other times, not even close. 

And that brings us to this morning. 

Michael has a timer for every step in his morning: Making his bed, getting dressed, making his lunch, eating breakfast, getting himself ready to go out the door.  Every day seems to bring a challenge but this morning was especially challenging. 

He couldn't find anything to wear. 

That's not an abnormal problem for anybody.  I understand this problem!  But, when push comes to shove, I always find pants and a t-shirt - even if I have to dig through the dirty laundry.  Lucky for Michael, I found him two pairs of pants and two long sleeve shirts last night and I told him so.  Yet this morning he came down stairs wearing Marie's jeans over his pajamas with a sad face saying, "Look!  These won't fit!"  That was our first clue the morning would be rough. 

Mr. Sexy and I have been working hard on making Michael think through problems for himself.  For some reason this has been a monstrous struggle for him.  (Well, I have my theories...there are two sets of parents in his life - but I won't go there...yet.) So of course, this morning Michael had an opportunity to look for pants and a shirt.  

Apparently there were none to be found.  His timer went off and his opportunity to get dressed passed.  On to breakfast.  Well that timer ended and he hadn't quite finished eating either (Denai took care of that later). At that point he had 12 minutes to get himself ready to go out the door.  Most of that time was spent wandering aimlessly around looking as though the entire world was against him.  As Mr. Sexy and I were up and about we noticed several pants and shirts scattered on his bedroom floor.  Yet Michael remained in his pajamas, every once in a while whining about not having any clothes to wear. 

That 12 minutes was stressful.  Do we send him to school in pj's?   How is that appropriate?  Do we give him clothes with a lecture?  That obviously hasn't worked in the past... Should we physically dress him like we do Denai?  As Mr. Sexy and I quietly discussed what to do we kept coming to the main point: He has clothes.  For some reason he is choosing not to see them. 

He needed to be pulled up short and sudden, as Marilla Cuthbert would say. 

 Our conclusion was painful for me.  But it was the right one.  Twelve minutes passed and we told Michael it was time for his shoes.  He would be attending school in his pajamas.

A conniption fit ensued.  He was almost carried to the truck this morning.  Almost.  

After they left I called his teacher and explained our morning.  Let's just say I LOVE HER.  She understands the concept of Love and Logic and supports it fully.  It was good I called so she would know and understand why Michael was in his pajamas and why he might be particularly upset.  His teacher also encouraged me in my efforts and even said, "You will win this.  Just stay firm a consistent.  You will win." 

So, Michael is in his pajamas at school.  I'm not sure what kind of attitude will enter the van when I pick him up.  But today's consequence was needed, as painful as it was for all of us.  

A Helping Hand

Over the weekend I had the opportunity to practice something called: Letting it go.  Feel free to break out in song.

There will always be somebody who thinks they know how to better parent my kids.  Heck, I have probably had that same thought about you.  (Just keepin it real people.) Truth is, parenting is one of those hot topics. It often feels like there is one right way to do things and many wrong ways.  Now tie in the special needs kids.  There is ALWAYS better parenting techniques for them.

Michael wanted to skate at the fair and it was a much better deal than the rides.  Mr. Sexy and I had no desire to skate ourselves so we rented the two kids skates and set them free.

After a few minutes this is what we were watching:





















In these moments it appears they had given up.  It's over.  It's too hard.  I'm stuck.  I can't do it. 

But just give it time...

Michael was right back up and across the rink.

Falling the whole way.

Marie, on the other hand, stayed in her same general position.

Now, Mr. Sexy and I had made the parental decision to give both kids free reign to skate and fall as they pleased.

This meant Michael might end up with a bruised tail bone and Marie would most likely not get much farther than the above picture.

We knew this.  And we were fine with this.  We were looking forward to seeing how both kids did with this small amount of freedom.

A stranger, however, seemed to have different thoughts.

Before getting skates I had stopped to admire the purses and skirts a lady had made with ties.  Only ties. The kind of ties men wear to church or to work or on picture day.  She seemed to price them reasonably and if I had the money I may have bought one just because they were so unique.

Well, that same lady didn't waste much time in approaching us as we stood and laughed and pointed at our dorky kids who didn't know how to roller skate.

"Would you like me to go out there and help her?" the lady asked.  "Her," being Marie, obviously.

It felt like a random request that made no sense to me.

"No, she's okay," I said.

This lady seemed to feel very strongly about her request: "Well, she isn't moving." And she looked at Mr. Sexy and I with a stern, disapproving face.

Well, my pulse quickened and I felt warmth creep up my face so I replied in my syrupy-sweet-voice, "No she's fine. Thank you."

You should all be impressed I said "thank you."  But keep in mind it was a firm "thank you."  The kind that said the conversation was over.

The lady gave us another look, telling us we could go out there without skates and help her if we wanted.

Nod of the head.  Turn away.  Face burning.  Tongue bitten.

Breathe.

I. Hate. That.

I know that people tend to feel sorry for Marie - especially with horrible parents who give her the opportunities to experience life  on her own! She has spent most of her life being led into activities by adults to such a degree that she prefers adults to peers.

So, while my face cooled off and I laughed at Michael for crashing once again, I saw our parenting strategy flourish.

This is the kind of interactions Marie needs.  She doesn't need another adult who wants to rescue her.  She needs someone her own size to invite her into the adventures of life. Then it's up to Marie to decide what to do next.  This time, she took a friend's hand and ventured into the scary sea of a roller skating rink.

Marie left her comfort zone and hung on for dear life.  Literally. 

Have you ever skated with someone who doesn't know how?  Especially one that's your size or close to it?  Simply getting Marie from sitting on the bench to the rink took all my muscles as she simply leaned back into me with all her body weight.  

I should have videoed the skating.  It was like watching Bambi. 

This was Marie's first and only fall of the day.  From what we could see on the sidelines, she refused to get back up even with the help of her new friend.  Her friend retrieved the learning-to-skate-thing for Marie, helped her up into it, and skated off.  

Again, a great thing for Marie to learn.  

Marie had a friend who wanted to help her.  Then Marie decided she didn't want to continue.  So Marie lost that friend. 

Marie actually did figure out how to move around on her own.  It took her a bit but she ended up on the other side of the rink and then came all the way back when it was time to go.  

She wouldn't have had those rich experiences without the helping hand of a peer. 

Bed Wetting and Eating

Things have been going okay.  Good, actually.  We have had happiness and successes these past few weeks.  Marie told me she loved me and she even looked at me in the eyes when she said it.  Typically she says those three words to empty space in front of her after leaving the room I'm in.  I only know they are meant for me because she says my name, "Mom."

Two days ago she peed her bed.  She had gone just about two weeks of being dry.  I was disappointed.  I still am, in fact.  I don't understand this struggle so it takes a lot of work to let it go. Marie's pediatrician was the first one to mention constipation as a major component to Marie's consistent bed wetting.  So, Marie's nighttime routine now ends with pooping.We gave Marie some medicine for a short while and ever since we have made sure she poops every night.  After she is all ready for bed we tell her to go poop and she sits on the toilet until it happens.  Sometimes it will take an hour.  Sometimes 20 minutes. We discovered, however, that we need to check the toilet to make sure it happens.

 Well, two nights ago Marie flushed on her own.  Since she has been so consistent Mr. Sexy and I didn't see it as a big deal.

The next morning she was soaked.

Did she poop the night before?  We'll never know.  I didn't ask her because, frankly, she won't give me a straight up answer regardless of whatever the truth is.

And now it's been a few days.

I'm sitting at my desk and looking at remnants of pencil erasers.

After dinner she does homework.  Last night she also ate some eraser.

When I ask her about this kind of stuff I can tell immediately what the answer truly is by her demeanor.  If she blankly stares and then looks around, trying to figure out a "correct" response, I know she has no idea what I'm asking her about.  BUT if she presses her lips together, gives a sigh, looks down, I know that she knows EXACTLY what happened.

Her first response is, "I," at which point I remind her (in that overly stern mommy tone I harbor) that one word makes no sense.

She then says, "I do not eat it."  This is the response she knows I want.  She knows she wasn't supposed to eat the eraser.  So, like any very young-minded child she attempts to tell me the best possible "truth" and the result is she ends up telling me, "I ate it."

She has a history of eating things whether it's binging in the kitchen in the middle of the night, snacking on crayons in bed, or now, eating erasers while I'm upstairs doing other things.  This behavior is progressing steadily.

What the hell am I to do?  Never leave her alone ever?  Send her to a special school because maybe then can figure it out?

Mr. Sexy's idea is to take everything edible out of her reach.  It's such a broad idea I can't figure out exactly what that would mean or what it would look like.  Our current night time system is that she has a few barriers so she can't get up and wander around, which is when she is most likely to get into mischief.  So do we take all "edible" items out of the entire downstairs where she spends most of her time?  She has eaten books before.  And toys.  We have lots of books and toys and papers and crafty things down here.

Mr. Sexy and I decided before we do anything drastic we need to go back to the specialist.

This most recent incident proves that Marie is in no way eating out of hunger.  She is eating because..... who the hell knows.

But I'm pissed.  And I don't have time to be pissed.  I don't even have time for venting on this blog.

 I am learning the part of Elaine from Arsenic and Old Lace to perform in their last show on Saturday.  The girl who plays that character is sick so while I joked with Mr. Sexy about that being a fun challenge, he told the directors who ran with the idea!

So for now, Marie gets no privacy unless she is in her room.  Her room is actually the one place where there is nothing "edible."

Side note:  I didn't write this post for advice.  I don't mean to be rude but we get a lot of advice.  At this point, I am only interested in the advice of someone trained in this area of eating what shouldn't be eaten and trained in special needs.

Z is for Zig-Zag: My Journey Through Parenthood

Z is for Zig-Zag.

There is no cookie cutter model for parenting.  This annoys me.  I wish I could read one book, just one, and that one book would have all the answers for everybody.  This just wouldn't work.  God made everybody so annoyingly unique so that as we all connect to each other and start growing families, each family becomes annoyingly unique.  Okay, annoying may not be the right word because it's actually pretty amazing to think about.  Yet, annoying just might fit...sometimes?

Easter, 2014

Therefore, for our family, it's important that we be extremely flexible.  Roll with the punches.  Zig-Zag when we need to.  I have 3 kids and they are all so different.  The oldest has down syndrome and is home-schooled.  The middle (and oldest too) goes to public school in the town next door to ours.  The youngest is just turning into a toddler.  Each one has their own sets of needs and desires.  Each one has a beating heart that is yearning for love and affection from Mr. Sexy and I.

So when Michael has a school recital I have to relax a bit on the homeschool front.  When Denai isn't feeling well I have to drop everything and run to the doctor.  When Marie is having a bad day I have to allow her and I time and space to move past whatever happened.

This concept is difficult for me.  I like to have an orderly schedule, although you might not guess this if you could see how good not good I am at keeping my room clean.  Even a poop schedule is important to me.  However, this year it seems that every day, every week, every month, shit just happens.  We haven't had very many "normal" days.  Interestingly, Michael tends to be at his dad's house when "shit just happens."  I like to think that God is sparing his tender heart since he is already dealing with two sets of parents and two sets of sisters.

Oh well.  It's all okay.  I'm really learning to let go and accept the chaos that is my life.  Beer and rum help with that, I've got to be honest there!

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

Y is for Yelling and Screaming: My Journey Through Parenthood

Y is for Yelling and screaming.

"about" 18 months old?
Who really remembers these things? 

I remember the first huge, earthquake of a tantrum Michael threw at the grocery store.  Safeway, to be exact.  He was about 18 months old (but as I think about it a LOT of things happened when he was "about" 18 months old).

Thankfully, I had done my research and I was prepared.  Instead of standing around, red-faced and trying to talk sense into the senseless, I picked him and ran out as fast as I could.  And yup, some minimum wage clerk had to put away my full basket of groceries.

I'm not sure where exactly I learned to do this.  I read that I needed to take him out of the situation to show him who was in control.  Weird thing was that it worked.  Over time the tantrums lessened and I was able to console him right then and there.  No running out for this mom!  It was an amazing feeling.  As soon as his head threw back my "mommy tone" came out and he shaped right up.

As he got older, years older, he realized he could still throw himself on the floor even when I was using my "mommy tone."  That wasn't fun.  Thankfully Mr. Sexy had put a ring on my finger and has played a major role in Michael's life.

It just so happens that a big part of our lives involve yelling and screaming.

Still.

He's 6.  I hear that for some kids that's normal and for others it's not.

Who cares.

All our kids are different from all kinds of different families.  I'm proud of Michael constantly because he has a huge heart that yearns to love people.  He doesn't always know how to do that, however.  So he resorts to yelling and screaming.

Oh well, perhaps 7 will be different!

A Valentine's project we did together for school.

What was your worst tantrum experience like? 

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

X is for X-Rays: My Journey Through Parenthood

X is for X-rays.

Michael's first x-rays resulting in a cast was when he was about this old:

He was 18 months or so?  I can't really remember.  I just remember going on the "big boy" slide was scary and he didn't like to do it.  Nanna talked him into it one day and somehow, on the way down, his leg got tweaked.  We ended up taking him to the ER where he got his first x-rays.  It was exciting.  Of course I was there with Mr. Sexy.  Michael's dad was there, too, along with the rest of the family.  Both his parents and a few aunts and uncles.  It was interesting....that's all I'll say.

Michael's fracture was so minimal the doctor wasn't even sure there was one.  He recommended a cast basically to be on the safe side of things.  

For years Michael remembered Nanna, the slide and the cast.  

Apparently boys will tend to find themselves wearing a cast quite often.  So far, though, Michael has stayed "safe." 

Do you have any stories about x-rays resulting in a cast?  

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

W is for Where's my Water?: My Journey Through Parenthood

W is for Where's my water?

Do you know what this game is?  I learned about it last year from Michael.  He discovered it on a friend's parent's phone I guess and immediately began pestering me about downloading it.  He was 5.  Cell phones weren't mainstream when I was 5 so this was just ... weird.

Eventually I did download it because, why not?  It's free.  And there may be some times when I want him occupied and have nothing else to offer.  However, the fact that I had this amazing game ready to play in an instant was a lot for Michael to handle.  He asked about it daily.  Every time we went in the car, Can I play on your phone?  The answer was usually a big fat N. O.  While I let him play every once in a while, I eventually deleted the game due to his incessant begging.  I still have some reading apps that him and Marie can play with together IF (and that's a big IF) I let them "play" on my phone.

I have gone back and forth on whether or not technology is a bad thing or a good thing.  What I have found (and this is very generic) is that the older a person is, the worse today's technology is.  In contrast, the younger ones can't imagine life otherwise.  I have finally come to a my own conclusion and I'm very happy about it.

Technology is awesome when controlled.  God created it.  He created the ideas and the minds who thought of them.  He knew about technology before any of us did.  He also knows how much farther it can and will go.  I can really rest in this.  If he designed technology then wouldn't that mean it's a positive thing?  Enter humanity.  We can take anything awesome and make it not so great.  Evan bad.  So yes, technology has it's downfalls.

The husband who seems to spend the entire day playing computer games. 

Little kids who know the ins and outs of Spongebob or Hannah Montanna but don't know what a real frog looks like. 

Moms who spend more time texting and instagramming than playing hide and seek with the small ones. 

The teenager who, if left without a computer or a phone, would go into massive depression. 

I have even heard some stories of people who die while playing interactive computer games because they forgot to eat.  So weird.

All the techy gizmos we have nowadays can be highly addicting.  I have a hard time being far from my iphone for too long.  My kids constantly want to watch movies or play games on the wii.  However Mr. Sexy and I rarely say yes.  Eventually we may come up with a rule such as 30 minutes of gaming or tv watching per day.  For now, "no," works on my kids.  We have so much to do all the time.

Puzzles, games, painting, coloring, reading, toys galore, each other, the great outdoors and everything THAT entails.

Interestingly, over time Michael has asked less and less to play the wii and to watch movies.

Is technology to be feared or celebrated?  Or both? 

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

U is for Untruths: My Journey Through Parenthood

U is for Untruths.

Mr. Sexy and I like to always be honest with our kids when they have questions.  Michael has many questions all the time.  It's exhausting.  While I was pregnant we had a lot of conversations about where babies come from.  I didn't make up any stories about magic or storks.  I gave him truths that he could handle and knew he would press the subject more when he was ready.  Later.  Much later.  Years later.

From some of Michael's stories it seems that his other parents take a different approach to his many questions and concerns:

One night Michael was very concerned about the monster that was eating away his stomach.  He said his daddy told him that he has bumps on his tummy from a monster....

yeah...creepy.  

It took a while to figure this one out.  Michael was peeing his bed regularly at this point and had developed a slight rash.  He asked his dad and after that conversation (I don't want to assume here) Michael was believing there was a monster eating his tummy.  

Mr. Sexy is amazing with this kind of stuff.  It took a while but Mr. Sexy explained the facts to Michael using logic and facts and TRUTHS.  Michael isn't afraid of the imaginary monster anymore.  He doesn't pee his bed every night either. 



Another evening Mr. Sexy and I left the kids in the car while we ran in to grab take out.  It was raining and everyone was tired.  Makes sense right?  While in the restaurant Michael ran in, out of breath.  

"You didn't leave the windows cracked!  We will suffocate and die!" 

Deep breath.  Poor Michael.  Again, Mr. Sexy very logically explained how they are safe in the car with the windows shut especially for such a short amount of time. 

"Do you really think mom and I would leave you guys in the car to die?"

That question sounds insane but it had to be asked for Michael's sake.  He was being overrun with fear and thus, not able to trust his parents.  Either set, most likely. 

I have many more stories like these I just told.

I definitely believe in giving real and honest answers to my kids' questions and concerns based on their maturity. I won't get into the gruesome details about child birth or how I got pregnant.  But Michael did ask a lot of questions and he got to a point where he didn't need to know anymore.  That was okay with everybody.  (His stopping point was learning that babies sometimes get cut out of tummies or come out between mommy's legs.  It wasn't a graphic conversation.  It was very short and concise.)

Are you comfortable with off the wall questions from your kids?  Or does it make you break into a nervous sweat?

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

T is for Timothy: My Journey Through Parenthood

T is for Timothy.

Timothy James.

Timothy James Sexy.  ::wink wink::

Timothy James is the name of our next kid.  And he's going to be a boy.  Because I say so.

No, I'm not pregnant.  We are barely thinking about the idea.  But wouldn't this have been a great reveal?  Now I'm sad that I'm not pregnant.

NOT

I'm okay waiting a little longer and see where things are at.  God has been hard at work on our family.  Some days I think we are crazy for considering the idea of a future with more children.  Then there are days where it gets to a point that one or two more is just a party!

Our family plan: 
-Get pregnant sometime in the future.
-Foster
-Adopt
-Kids grow up
-Kids move out
-Parents party in Hawaii

I had a family plan when I was 8:
-Meet and marry Prince Charming (who looked a lot like Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid)
-Have 2 kids
-Get a dog
-Live in a big, beautiful house
-Have lots of money so I could buy whatever I wanted whenever I wanted
**I will not be poor

That last thing was very important to my little girl mind.  Guess what.  I'm poor! lol

Plans change and that's okay.  As I grew older I realized there was a very real possibility of being poor which scared me.  It was immaturity on my part as there is so much more to life than having the big house, nice clothes, new shoes and expensive wine.

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

Step-Parenting Special Needs: My Journey Through Parenthood

S is for Step-parenting Special needs.

Everyone has a unique story.  This one is no exception.  It's not a story I ever expected to be a part of.  God has is plans, though, and I'm privy to it only as he allows.

I tend to share my journey openly and as honestly as possible.  This leaves much room for criticisms.  I have lost friendships, too.  People I thought believed in the hope and redemption of Jesus turned out to believe there is only hope and redemption for some people.  I am not one of those people, according to them.

In all the struggles that I have shared with friends, family and strangers, I remind myself constantly that I am not alone.  I can't be.  I'm human and a sinner just like the rest of the world.  I have received many emails from people who have the same struggles I have described but have never heard it voiced before.

Just because we choose to have children, whether it's through adoption, marriage or child birth, doesn't mean we are immune to anger, resentment, and even hatred towards those small, innocent hearts.  That doesn't mean we should act on those feelings.  But they must be dealt with.  Otherwise the seed will grow and become a monster.

I have seen this monster in the mirror.  It was a scary thing to not recognize myself.  It was even scarier to see the effects on my family.

The best thing I ever did - and still do - is be honest about where I'm at.

I don't understand Marie.  She does a lot of weird things that seem to yell DOWN SYNDROME in my face.  I am constantly angry at her so she is constantly in trouble.  I have felt a huge amount of resentment and hatred towards her.  It was overwhelming.  There were some days I simply couldn't be in the same room as her.  She has done things that made my entire body shake with rage.

What I was seeing was the behavior.
I wasn't able to see the heart.
What I was seeing was down syndrome.
 I wasn't able to see the girl.

What I am able to see now is that the anger issue has less and less to do with Marie and down syndrome and more and more to do with me.

Where does this anger come from?  Wouldn't it make sense that anger comes from pain?

Now, as the adult, as the parent, it's my job to work through whatever pain I have been hiding from.

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

R is for Rewards: My Journey Through Parenthood

R is for Rewards.

I have found that a reward system for my kids work great.  It coincides with the idea of consequences.  The key is knowing what motivates my kids.  Some rewards are unhealthy, some they will work very hard for and some they won't give a flying hoot about.

For instance, Marie has an obsession with food.  Therefore, I don't offer her food rewards of any kind.  She does love stickers which is an incredibly easy reward to offer for something tiny like blowing her nose on her own or for getting a perfect score on a quiz or worksheet.  Then there are some bigger rewards she would just die for: The movie Frozen.  Time to make jewelry with her gazillions of beads.  A shopping excursion or a trip to the salon.  Those are pretty big deal rewards for her.

Michael is a little more complicated.  He is moody and broody at times so different rewards engage him.  Today he was not happy about speed walking through the mall.  All we had to do was pick up my wedding ring and then we were done and headed to 5 Guys for lunch.  So we were speed walking - which is close to running for small people.  After getting our ring I decided: "Hey!  Whoever gets to the van first gets a peep!"  We brought some easter loot on our day trip into the "big city" and Michael was most excited about the peeps.  This worked magnificently.  He ran and gloated about winning and then ran some more.  Yup, he won.

What kind of rewards work for your kids?

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

Q is for Quitting: My Journey Through Parenthood

Q is for Quitting.

There was a time, not very long ago, when I told Mr. Sexy I was done.  I wanted to quit.

What does that mean? he asked.

I have no blazing clue, was my response.

The daily struggles of life had become too much and I hit a wall.  A brick wall.  And it was very high.  Everything that encompassed who I am, felt dried up.  I felt empty.  I had nothing left to offer.  I just wanted to be done.

I was exhausted from feeling angry every day.  I was tired of feeling unloved and undesired.  I was burnt out from putting so much energy into trying to understand down syndrome.  Daily I was beating myself up because as a step-parent and therefore, as a parent, I was blowing it.  My heart ached and there was no outlet that would satisfy.

So I wanted  to quit.  I fantasized about running away. I thought about becoming a drunk, too.  I could do it and I wouldn't even remember Mr. Sexy leaving me and taking all the kids.

These ideas I just described to you were extremely short lived.  They were fleeting moments of insanity that came and went.  This is how Satan works, though.  Small, swift pokes.  The minute I give the poke some clout, it turns into something bigger.  Like a nudge.  And then, what were fleeting moments of insanity, starts to become my reality.  I have seen this happen in my life before, and I wasn't going to let it happen again.

That's why I had to tell Mr. Sexy I wanted to quit.

As you can see, I have not quit.  I'm not even sure how I came out of the dark place.  Prayer, I'm sure, although not by me.  I don't talk to God well when I'm in the dark place.  So I'm thankful to those who did pray for me because those people, whoever they are, helped keep my family together.

I don't feel like quitting anymore.  I don't want to become a drunk and I definitely want to keep Mr. Sexy and ALL of my kids around.  At least for a few more years. ::wink wink::

It's my opinion that being honest about life is really important.  I don't like it when I put up a facade whether it's on facebook, at church, my blog or hanging out with my friends.  But it's hard to be honest about the dark place.  It is scary to hear about it from a friend.  It's even scarier to admit when you're in the dark place.

The thing is that we need each other.  None of us are immune to the dark place.  There will be some who call me rude names because I admit my deepest struggles.  Then there will be those, like my prayer warriors and Mr. Sexy, who do all they can to respond in love even though they can't understand the struggle.

Wow.  This was deep for the day before Easter!

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

Poop: My Journey Through Parenthood

P is for Poop.

Yes, it's a favorite subject of mine that is long standing.  However I'm more interested in sharing my journey through learning to cloth diaper.  And with that also comes the subject of poop.

One of my best girly pals got me started on cloth diapering when she herself got pregnant.  This girl researches EVERYTHING.  I bet she even researches what kind of underwear is the best (just joking).  But seriously, research is her thing.  So whenever I have questions - about so many things - chances are she has a well educated answer.  Cloth diapering was no different.  I felt like I was literally talking to her ALL DAY some days because it was such an overwhelming topic for me.  Cloth diapering truly is a life style.  And I love it.  Still.  My baby is one by the way.

There are so many crazy hormones after giving birth.  So I blame the hormones on this weird fact: I enjoyed the smell of her new baby poop.  If you read my liebster award post you will remember I enjoy weird smells only if they come from my body.  Well, Denai's poop was my breast milk.  Yummm... I know how weird that is.  Like I said, it was the silly hormones.  Disclaimer: I no longer enjoy the smell of Denai's poop.  Those days are looooong gone. 

This is a one size bum genius.
It barely fit her as a newborn.

Cloth diapering can be very spendy up front which is scary.  As always, Mr. Sexy and I were strapped for cash and needed the baby shower to be "raining diapers and tutus."  That was our theme.  We made tutu invitations and wrote a poem about cloth diapering.  We had a door prize guests could enter into if they brought a diaper as a gift.  We went overboard on the subject and it worked out beautifully.  After
the baby shower we were basically stocked with the diapers we needed!

She did such a great job with my baby shower.
 Those are all her diapers we used as decorations.

In the beginning Denai's diapers went straight into the wet bag.  No rinsing needed.  I was amazed at how easy the process was and couldn't understand why throw away diapers existed still.  We could change Denai anytime, anywhere.  We didn't even need a trash can around because we washed them.  It was EASY.

Then we started introducing solids.  At that point things began to change.  We had to start rinsing them in the toilet and her poop started to smell like normal human poop.  I still considered cloth diapering easy, though.  But I think what made it easy was my resolve.  I also get a really good look at what she is eating and how she is digesting.  I won't go into details, though.  It's pretty gross.  If there is one thing I don't like about cloth diapering, it's the poop now that she eats normal human food.

She doesn't have a butt.
She has a tush.

I think what I love most about cloth is that it saves us money every month because we aren't buying a huge case of diapers and having to throw away diapers that are maybe barely wet.  I can change her every two hours and not feel bad that it's not a sopping wet diaper.

Anyways I could talk about this subject for a long time.  Happy reading!

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

Other Parents: My Journey Through Parenthood

O is for Other parents.

Here is the quick rundown of how our family is indeed a family.

Mr. Sexy had Marie with his first wife who is no longer around which gives us full custody (it's a long and never ending story).

I had Michael with my college boyfriend and we currently split custody down the middle.  He is married to his high school sweetheart and they have one child together. 

Denai is the product of Mr. Sexy and I.  Nuff said. 

There are lots and lots of Other parents we get to deal with.

Michael's dad and step-mom: It's really hard to co-parent when the "co" in the relationship feels nonexistent.  Michael's dad is a good guy but he lacks when it comes to communicating.  At least with me.  When I send him a text message I expect a response at some point, particularly when I'm asking a question.  Days will go by with nada from him.  He rarely answers my phone calls, much less calls me back.  The four of us have been able to sit down together at a restaurant which is an amazing feat for anybody in this situation.  We talk about Michael and brainstorm on how we can parent as similarly as possible.  Then later I get a text that says they think our ideas were no good.  It's frustrating when someone says one thing to your face then seems to change their mind the minute you walk out the door.  This may not happen every time we get together but it happens often enough so that it feels like it happens every time.

I don't know much about Michael's step-mom.  Her and I are actually a lot alike which is comical.  We are both blondes and could be considered a bit bitchy and have aggressive personalities.  Interestingly, however, she tends to take a step back in the parenting arena with Michael.  At least that's how it appears when I'm in the room.  Who knows what happens at home.  On one hand it's nice that she doesn't have an overstated opinion since it's a tense situation.  On the other hand I wish she would have an opinion because frankly, she is his parent as much as the rest of us.  Michael calls her "mom" even.  At least I think he does.  So she better damn well have an opinion about how to handle his tantrums and crappy attitude because she is in an important person in his life!

Grandparents: Mr. Sexy's family lives a two-day drive away and we are hoping to visit this summer (fingers crossed)! We just moved away from my family but only by about an hour's drive.  Grandparents have a very important role in the lives' of our kids although I do believe they should be the instigators.  With everything happening at home I can hardly remember where I put my keys let alone worrying about whether the grandparents have called that week or not.

Then we have the friends or strangers who see it as their duty to parent kids that aren't there own.  If they were babysitting or something, well of course they get to make those judgements.  But otherwise this type of "parenting" ruffles my feathers just a bit.  And sometimes a lot.  It's a fine line to walk - especially with friends.  When do you say something - if you bring it up at all?  How do you mention it without sounding rude or making it uncomfortable?  And then after the conversation, that friend has to figure out where the line is drawn on this topic.  Of course if somebody sees my kid running with scissors or playing with a lighter I want ANYONE to stop this.  Other than that, however, the line seems very thin and easy to cross over.  I'm very flippity-floppity on the subject.

So, these are my experiences and thoughts on a few types of other parents.

What are your experiences with other parents? Was it welcomed or just a pain in the ass?  There is no judgement here!

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

Nails on the Cross: My Journey Through Parenthood

N is for Nails on the cross.

I have 3 kids.

Denai just turned 1 so I think it's safe to say she has some maturing to do.

Michael is 6 and has questions about everything and then some.

Marie is 12 and has down syndrome.

Sooooo when is a good time to introduce the idea of becoming a Christian?

I don't think this question has a cut and dry answer for anybody.  My story in a few lines is that I accepted Jesus as my savior with my parents when I was 5.  I was super duper excited about it.  Then I got older and forgot that it was exciting and being a Christian became quite lame and uncool.  Then at 12 years old I began a personal relationship with Jesus for the first time and that's when it stuck.

Was I a Christian before I turned 12?  I'm not sure.  I think Jesus accepted my child like faith when I turned 5.  But I needed to get beyond that point in my maturity.  As an adult I have no doubts about where I will go when I die because I can remember the moments that Jesus became real to me and I made him Lord of my life.

So far Mr. Sexy and I are allowing the kids to question life and instigate conversations about God and faith.  Well, actually it's only Michael who instigates these conversations.  Denai, of course, doesn't talk yet.  Marie doesn't question a whole lot at this point.

My goal is for my kids to choose to have a personal relationship with Jesus rather than say a prayer and be "safe."  As a mom who understands the gravity of the afterlife this is a scary thing to let go of control of!  However I can often find solace in the fact that I never had such control.  God holds each one of my kids in His capable hands.

And that is where I will leave today's post.  Thank you for reading!

Do you have a story about accepting Jesus or about your kids accepting Jesus?   

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

Mommy, Mrs. Sexy then Me: My Journey Through Parenthood

M is for Mommy, Mrs. Sexy then Me.

Isn't that the way it seems to go a lot of the time?

Mommy tends to come first.  Just this morning I was so proud for hearing my alarm at 6 am - even though I didn't actually get out of bed until 6:33 am.  With my 6 am alarm came the happy gabbing of Miss Denai.  It's great that she was happy and remained happy until Mr. Sexy got her up and dressed.  It wasn't so great that she was up so early on the same day I managed to get up early too!  Maybe she has a nanny cam hidden in my room somewhere....that must be why she leaves her toys all over my floor.

Then Mrs. Sexy needs to make an appearance.  Does she always?  Mr. Sexy will laugh and say no.  Why the laugh?  Because I try.  And when I try, well, it's more of a comedy show then an enticement for ::wink wink::  More often than not I feel anything but sexy.  Ironically, it's on those days that Mr. Sexy comes home and immediately wraps himself around me and showers me with kisses.  Sweaty pits, greasy hair and dish soap.  He's great isn't he?

At the end of the day I usually try to find Me.  Lately we have been calling it: brain rest.  Mr. Sexy has been telling me I need it.  Apparently we live stressful lives and our brains tend to get overloaded because of it.  In an effort to find Me I like to go on walks now that the weather is nice.  It has really been a wonderful new little tradition that we have started.  I don't always find Me, though.  After being Mommy then Mrs. Sexy sometimes I don't have room for Me.  Mr. Sexy can sometimes see this which is when he orders me into the bedroom for a foot rub and a glass of wine.  Falling asleep to that is pretty amazing.

If you're a Mommy or a Mrs. how do you find your Me time? 

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

Letting Go in Love: My Journey Through Parenthood

L is for letting go in love.

I touched on this subject on Saturday's post in the last few lines.

My stomach lurched as I watched Michael tear down the trail with Winnie, our dog, running right along beside him.  All I could see was how easily Michael could lose his footing and go flying over the cliff that was the left of the trail.  Mr. Sexy just laughed at me and continued along with Denai on his shoulders as if nothing was amiss.

So far, I have never been the mom to become overly concerned or afraid about my kids being kids and doing what they were designed to do.  Explore.  Run. Play.  Learn.  Experience.  But something has changed these past few months.  Maybe it's the fact that Michael is finally crossing through some barriers and doing - or at least attempting to do - crazy boyish things.

Underneath the log was a ditch that was a few Michael's deep.
And, just to make fun of me, he pretended to lose his balance! 

As we continued our hike back down the trail Mr. Sexy told me that as a boy he would be all over this manmade trail and biking down the cliff too.  Okay, so cliff is a strong word.  It's more of a really really steep hill and there are lots of trees and logs and brush and other woodsy things.  As a girl you would never catch me on a bike in a place like this.

Perhaps this is a new phase of letting go for me that feels like uncharted territory.  For the past few years I have tried to push Michael into doing stupid boyish things because he was always so afraid or just plain lazy.  Now it seems things are turning into the opposite.

Michael heard our conversation and then, just because he's a smart alec, he got right on the edge of the "cliff" and exclaimed, "I'm going down there right now!"  I freaked out and yelled that he WOULD NOT.  He and Mr. Sexy laughed.  At me.  How rude!

We all decided that hiking (or biking) down the "cliff" would be saved for a man adventure that mom probably wouldn't know about until after the fact.  That's just fine with me.

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

Kindergarten: My Journey Through Parenthood

K is for Kindergarten.

This year Michael started kindergarten!

It was a strange feeling. I could tell he was nervous as he hung on my hand and meandered towards the backpack drop off.  This wasn't his first morning being dropped off at kindergarten.  We were actually a few weeks into the year already.   

Michael never went to daycare (at least not on my time) and had never even had a sleepover (again, not on my time).  He did go to his dad's every other week but his dad isn't big on communication so I was always shady on Michael's version of the "facts."   

I had five years with Michael to teach him everything he needed to know to be successful.  Well, maybe not EVERYTHING but enough to get him through kindergarten.  Still, leaving him at the playground which was overflowing with small people and teachers I was unfamiliar with, was a little nerve racking even for me.  I had to trust that Michael was succeeding.  

The end of the year is now upon us and the experience has been very good!  I have enjoyed watching Michael grow and change and learn.  He is well liked by his classmates and his teacher.  He looks forward to going to school every day.  He even met his wife (or so he says).  Apparently they are going to get married and have 4 kids.  Two girls and two boys.  'Nuff said yo. 

Michael and his betrothed. 

The decision for Michael to attend public school wasn't really mine to control.  (What is anyways?)  Last summer, Mr. Sexy and I were living an hour and a half away from Michael's biological dad.  Our options were few.  We could fight a custody battle or we could move closer to his dad and maintain Michael's week-on, week-off exchange schedule.  Michael's dad did continue to bring me to court for primary custody even after being assured that we were moving to the area.  We even found a house and were getting ready to put down our deposit.  Talk about frustrating.  And a stupid waste of money.

I would have preferred to homeschool Michael at least through kindergarten.  We could test the waters in the homeschool life style.  We wouldn't have to leave our hometown where family and friends were.  We could also cater homeschooling to our personal lives.  I have seen many wonderful examples of this.  Michael's dad, however, gave us a flat "no."  It wasn't unexpected.  During my 3-year relationship with him he often shut down ideas were unfamiliar.  He wouldn't even try.  As you can see, that hasn't changed.

I'm happy with Michael's experience in kindergarten this year.  Next year will be another major transition: A full school day of 1st grade!  That might be a little weird for me, too, like kindergarten was in the beginning.  We will adjust, though.

The process of letting go sure starts early!  It kind of feels like they start out as babies where we control everything and then as they grow older we have to let go of that control, little by little.

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

What was your experience like starting kindergarten?  

Insecurities: My Journey Through Parenthood

I is for Insecurities.

When Michael's dad married, the nickname that evolved for her was, "Memma."  Needless to say, I hated it.  I felt cheated.  I felt manipulated.  I talked to Michael about calling her by her real name.  I talked to his dad about how I felt the nickname was inappropriate.  I even went so far as to correct Michael when he called her "Memma" during exchanges.

It got to the point where Michael was correcting himself when around me.  I saw the red flag and I took a step back.  Yeah, go me.  In my book that takes maturity.

Over time I realized a name is just a name.  It doesn't matter that I believe Michael actually calls her "mom" now.  It doesn't matter that he tells her she is the best mom in the whole world.  (He told me he says these things.)

The relationship Michael and I have is mine to lose.

He knows who I am.  We have a bond that she cannot sever.  This goes back to yesterday's post on the heart.  If I'm continually aiming to reach beyond what I see on the outside, I don't think I'll ever lose him.  I suppose that was my insecurity.  I didn't want to lose him.

Mind you, Michael tells me he loves me in sweet ways all. The. Time.  He tells me I'm the best mommy in the whole wide world. All. The. Time. He's 6.  He'll figure out eventually that I truly am the best mommy in the whole wide world.  ;)

Helping out in his kindergarten class.

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.

Heart: My Journey Through Parenthood

H is for Heart.

I mentioned this book in the introduction to this series: My Journey Through Parenthood

 This book was given to me at Michael's one year birthday party back in 2009.  A single parent at the time and feeling absolutely clueless on how to raise a child who was beginning to exercise his free will, I read this book like it was my parenting bible.  Other than the few college classes I had taken on child development, this was the first parenting book I ever read.  The basis of what I learned struck deep within my soul.  I'm thankful Mr. Sexy owned his own copy of this book.  The basis we had in parenting was the same from the get-go.

As parents, what is our role? I believe the basic answer (we could make it complicated if we wanted) is the title of this book.  It's all about their heart.  We can punish our kids to no end.  We can take away everything that makes them happy and ground them for months at a time.  But where does punishment alone leave us?  Feeling good will towards one another?  Do our kids learn anything positive?

I would like to suggest that punishment alone breeds a resentful, angry child. 

While there may be a rare occasion for me and Mr. Sexy to punish our kids, we prefer to do our best at giving them consequences.  Along with said consequence(s) should be conversation - when both parties are calm and able to speak without throwing a fit or raising an angry voice.  This may take a few days for those really big bad choices.  My kids aren't old enough for those yet, thankfully.

For me, I can look into Michael's eyes and as I can hear my tone harden and my voice rise, I see a wall building behind his sweet blue eyes.  It scares me how well I know those eyes.  Those eyes are mine every time I am confronted with even the most menial wrongdoing.  But when I soften my tone, lower my voice and even allow silence into the room to settle rising emotions, I can see the walls disappear and I know that I have reached his heart.  I found my moment.  Love is happening.  Consequences are happening.  Lessons are being learned.  

I don't have any great examples with me and Marie.  I have never been able to get past the vacancy I see in her eyes.  I use the term "vacancy" not because she is stupid but because I don't see any foundation of a relationship there.  It's nonexistent.  Vacant.  So any efforts made on my part to speak to her heart feel hollow and hurtful.  But that's only my side of things.

Nobody grows up with a perfect childhood.  My kids sure won't.  My philosophy is along the lines of: If they are never in therapy because of something Mr. Sexy and I did then we must have done something wrong.  However I believe that if Mr. Sexy and I are constantly seeking the hearts of our kids instead of being blinded by their poor choices we won't lose them and  they won't lose us.  Or themselves for that matter.

 I know that parenting this way is going to be hard.  It's already very tough.  I can barely see past Marie's eating behaviors.  How am I going to handle it when something huge happens like my teen having sex or getting arrested for whatever stupid reason?  That will be a challenge....

Any tips? ;)

This is the A-Z blogging challenge so go ahead and read the introduction and see a list of all my A-Z posts.