Three Teenagers!

I always have the expectation of scary music accompanying those words; for some reason it never does, but you should see the looks on peoples faces when I say "I have three teenagers."  The music must be in their heads.

I officially have three teenagers as of earlier this summer.  I think I'm "supposed" to feel old, tired, and very afraid.  Not happening...in fact I am feeling pretty darn happy about the whole thing.  I wonder why?

Well, I'm not old; actually I am relatively young*.   My kids are fantastic (knock on wood).  No behavior problems, only developmentally appropriate attitude problems, good grades, mostly nice friends (they are teenagers after all), goals and plans for now and the future, hobbies, chores that they actually do, some common sense, and healthy doses of humor.  Somehow this combination just doesn't inspire fear, dread, or an impending sense of doom.  Something must be wrong with me... 

Oh, ya...I am a little tired. Maybe I will come to my senses after a good night's sleep :-P


*Please understand that the definition of young shifts relative to my age, and will likely continue to do so.

Crazy, Wonderful Week

OK, so I am back for an update, but life is soooo busy right now and I don't know when I will post next.  Can I just say that this has been an amazing week.  You know, the kind of week where great things are happening, problems arise but are all solved readily, and most things on the "to do" list are accomplished.

Last Saturday I watched some of my friends walk for their PhDs and MAs.  Two of them had family in from out of town and small apartments so I got to host a double Grad Party on Sunday, complete with bocce, cake, a fire, and s'mores - so fun hanging with everyone's family!  Monday was a clinic day and an evening rehearsal for my oldest daughter.  So far, so good; but that's inevitably when the crazy sets in...The neighbor needed to go to the ER, so we watched her kids.  My son and youngest daughter worked together to keep it sane while I picked the oldest daughter up from her rehearsal (I love having teenagers!), then my kids got themselves ready for bed while I took the other two home and put them to bed.  They were just tucked in when their mom got home, and she had already arranged to have some of her other friends help out over the next couple days while she recuperated. 

Tuesday at 8AM I headed out of town for two days to collect dissertation data; our tutor was going to spend the night with the kids.  I was halfway to my first destination when she texted me...poor thing had come down with the flu!  Well, 2 lane winding roads through the mountains are no place to make a phone call, and there were no places to pull over...so I let it go for the moment and enjoyed the beautiful drive.  There is nothing quite like the view when you crest a mountain pass and look down at a huge lake with a quaint little town on the shore, tall, jagged, snow capped peaks in the background, and morning mist still rising off the lake...too bad I couldn't stop to take a photo.  At least I was present in the moment to appreciate it.  An hour and a half later I got to my destination and started contacting friends to fill in.  By the time my meeting started I had a volunteer (it honestly didn't take much effort, I have amazing friends)!  The meeting was fantastic, and I got to know a colleague a little better in the process.  (Did I mention I think I work with truly excellent people)?  I headed back to town to take care of a couple things to make my friend's evening easier; the few hours of extra travel time were worth it.  It also helped me to slow down again and enjoy the pace of the day; I guess I had a more settled feeling having navigated the "worst case" scenario and ending up with a "best case" solution.  Of all my local friends, the kids know her the best and she has a great relationship with them. 

That was the end of crazy (by my definition).  There is a value to not being in a rush; focusing on the journey rather than the destination.  As I was driving to my second destination I saw big horn sheep in the mountains and deer in the fields, sang as loud as I wanted, and stopped to enjoy a beautiful sunset on a back road out in the middle of nowhere.  When I finally arrived I slept like a baby, which I almost never do in a hotel...go figure.  The next day I went to the final meeting, collected the last of my dissertation data, and met some wonderful colleagues in person (after a year or more of knowing them only as voices on the phone).  We finished up early so I stopped at a few interesting places on the way back and still got home in time to have dinner with the kids and spend time together.  All in all, it turned out to be a fantastic trip.

Thursday was consumed with data; updating files with errors in the archival data, re-analyzing the data and creating graphs that reflected the corrections, creating a new spreadsheet to gather some additional information for a different (but related) project, and spending time talking through each task with the RA who is working with me on the projects (who happens to be a brilliant and hard working single mother).

Today was another clinic filled day, followed by an evening concert for my oldest daughter.  Sounds like Monday but with a concert instead of a rehearsal; kinda like the bookends that held this crazy, wonderful week together.  She had a solo and did beautifully.  I got to see some of her friends and my friends who had solos as well (there were adult and child performers), saw colleagues and their families (including my RA and one of my committee members) at and in the event, and spent an evening taking in some live, fun local music with my youngest daughter.

The weekend is looking busy; I really need to go to the grocery store again, drop off the glass recycling, and take the kids to get summer clothes.  And my youngest has a friend coming over to play and work on a school project (I expect it will turn into mostly play).  I would really like to do some writing of my dissertation results.  I already know I am going on a hike with a couple friends Saturday and having a group of friends over for lunch on Sunday.  I guess that looks like balancing housework, family, professional work, and friends.  And just like Tuesday, if something goes a little crazy I will slow down, look at what I need and what my options are, and adjust accordingly.  Maybe sometimes the key to juggling is knowing which ball to set aside or switch, and when to do that (or when to stop and take in a sunset, because juggling can cease and life is still working just fine).

A matter of perspective

I felt like a crappy mother yesterday.  Expect these days in grad school.  I felt like a crappy friend the day before that.  Expect those days too.  In fact if you plan to attempt to be a grad student while you simultaneously have children, friendships, and other non-academic commitments you will inevitably have days or weeks where you feel like you suck at everything.  (If all you are is a grad student, you will have times where you feel like you are terrible at that, so make sure it isn't the only thing you are doing). 

So what makes me a crappy friend?  The day before yesterday I had a friend text me to express high levels of exasperation with her husband, who also happens to be a good friend of mine.  He forgot to take care of an errand.  This was not the first or second or even twentieth time, and that is a difficult pattern to accept sometimes.  As she vented herself into a frenzy, I simultaneously sunk into empathic failure.  Her concern and frustration were valid, and I could acknowledge that.  Where I got stuck was the presentation she gave of having to do "everything".  I happen to know he helps around the house, is a great parent, and earns enough that she doesn't work outside the home but still gets to have a cleaning lady. Seriously? Everything?  That is what I do.  I don't have a cleaning lady.  I don't have a wage earning partner, or a co-parent, or someone I can ask to run an errand, or someone I can get a hug from at the end of the day.  Don't get me wrong, I am not feeling sorry for myself; I just didn't have enough "give a damn" left for the drama.  I chose this path for very good reasons, but that doesn't mean it is easy.  And even I have days where I am wiped out and there isn't enough empathy left in my cup to share with my dearest friends.  So instead I called her on her drama, validated her feelings of frustration, and told her I would be in touch later when I could participate in the conversation in a more loving way, because I do get it.  I just sometimes don't get how people can be so blind to the gifts in their lives.  Maybe that is because I am so unaccustomed to the things she takes for granted, and I take for granted my freedom from the frustrations that she faces being in a partnership.  So I felt like a crappy friend...

Then what makes me a crappy mother?  Yesterday I spent the morning with a client at the inpatient unit, then saw clients at one clinic all afternoon, followed by a late client at yet another clinic.  I did not get done until 730 in the evening, and I was completely exhausted.  I had a text from the kids waiting for me; no one had eaten yet.  OK, so now I was anticipating arriving home at 8 to three hungry birds, having to decide what to cook, preparing that, and all of us eating at 9ish. I just didn't have the energy in myself to do this.  So I called the house "choose where you want me to get dinner from and text me what you want so I have a list when I get there."  I cringed, knowing what was probably coming...and true to form, the choice was Taco Bell. OK, look for the positive; at least I don't have to cook, they get to eat sooner, and we'll crawl into our beds at a semi-decent hour.  They were so excited when I walked through the door with "toxic hell" that they all hurried into the kitchen, set the table and poured milks, and we had lively dinner conversation.  They had even fed he dog before I got home!  As much as I dislike it, feeding such questionable ingestibles does not plummet me to the level of "crappy mother", nor does being hard working and occasionally absent in the evenings.  But I don't like it, and when it happens I feel like a lousy mom...

Well, this gave me an opportunity to call myself on my own drama as well.  I DON'T do everything.  I have three wonderful children who I love spending time with.  My not-so-little darlings are full participants in this busy life; one loads the dishwasher, another unloads it, and the third sweeps the kitchen.  They do their own laundry for the most part.  They help with taking care of our geriatric pooch.  My son enjoys mowing the lawn sometimes, and my youngest daughter likes digging in the garden.  They usually remember to write stuff on the grocery list when they notice we are low.  Sometimes they need reminders and sometimes they function more independently, but they rarely fuss or complain (especially compared to the average teenagers).  And they sometimes even enjoy hugs.  With 2 on the spectrum and the other a 14 year old there are fewer hugs than I would like; but this isn't all about me, its about our family.
 
Another thing I have learned from experience is not to believe everything I feel. Feeling like a bad mom or friend doesn't  mean I am a bad mom or friend.  It just means I am human.  I suppose I better get used to that, because I expect it won't change any time soon.

Scientific Shennanigans

      It is science fair time at the middle school again, and that means a world of crazy around here.  Everyone's data tables and results graphs are due next Friday, so guess where some extra kids are coming to conduct their experiments...here of course!  I am so glad Monday is a Holiday!  It looks like we have 4 lined up so far; Lydia is looking at what wakes people up, Allie is seeing what berries make the best natural ink, Maika is looking at which types of building materials withstand earthquake, and Rhiannon is checking out what brand of popcorn leaves the fewest un-popped kernels.
      I was Lyd's guinea pig for the first part of hers; it involved falling asleep on the couch and getting ice to the face to see how long it would take before I fell asleep again...twice since one data point alone is meaningless.  She'll finish torturing me tomorrow night. The other two IVs involve sour liquid and peppermint extract (both should be preferable to the ice).  She is lucky to have the friends she has, because they have volunteered to let her wake them up (or torture them depending on your perspective) at a sleepover.  We will see how much love there is in the room come morning!
     Allie's should be fun; she has pomegranate seeds, blueberries, and blackberries. She even collected feathers to use as quills to be "authentic."  I am not sure what her DV is, but it should at least be a fun mess to make.  Mental note - make sure no one is wearing white tomorrow....  
      I am not sure what we are doing with Maika's ... putting her constructions onto the kitchen table and shaking it vigorously... putting them in the car and driving on a dirt road... running them through the dryer on air fluff for 10 minutes....  suggestions are welcome!
      Rhiannon's should rock, and buy me forgiveness points (Katie and I were scolded by the girls last night for eating the last of the popcorn).  We have 3 brands of popcorn to test, which means the kids better be hungry.  They can get their popcorn fix, weigh the leftover kernels, and eat in the name of science (I wonder if they'll get extra credit for watching a sci-fi film while eating)?    
      I wish dissertating was this much fun :)

Sitting with the mirror

      I hate to admit it, but even this supermom gets overwhelmed sometimes.  Last week was zany from the beginning; my youngest got injured in Gym class (first hour on Monday) and I had to rearrange the day to accommodate a visit to the doctor and still see my clients.  It all worked out, which basically means that I did not fall behind, but I only maintained.  The rest of the week felt much the same - sitting with a friend in the ICU, attending a training, shifting client schedules, sleepovers, kids activities, my neighbor backing into my car, comps help for a friend -extra stuff came up that needed to fit in around an already packed life.  All of it was important, and I was happy to do it (except the car thing) but I am tired.  This week started the same way; by 10 AM Monday I had a sick kid needing to come home from school and a full client schedule; sacrifice another lunch break to the Gods of Juggling. 
      As I was running back to the office at 1245 yesterday, I passed one of my girlfriends.  The proverbial "How are you doing," was followed by honesty this time.  I dropped the Minnesota nice "Oh fine" long enough to tell her that I wanted to run away and cry for about an hour and then I would be fine.  She's another single mom / grad student, so she knows what I mean when I say this.  It means there is too much going on, it does not seem likely to change any time soon, and true respite feels light-years away. So what did she do?  The angel picked up dinner and came over at 6, we plunked our kids in front of a movie picnic style and then we sat at the kitchen table discussing our philosophies of life, transition, and why the world is so damn crazy.  We also spent some time wondering what insanity could possibly drive 2 otherwise intelligent and rational women to engage in this academic pursuit.  I think the most important thing we did was laugh together, though.
      I realize that what I need is to sit with everything that is happening in my own world, but I just cannot seem to carve a space to do this. I have been trying to, but interruptions are inevitable, competing demands create a cacophony in my daily life.  So today another kiddo fell to the bug and had to get picked up from school, no dissertation work happened, and I am missing an afternoon meeting (now the feeling of being behind is creeping in)... some weeks are just like this if you decide to climb the mountain of academia pulling a little red wagon with 3 kids. 
      I wish it were warm; I would go back country camping where cell signals are nonexistent and no one could find me for a while.  Even better, I wish I could find an island out in the middle of nowhere and pitch a tent for a few days.  But I want & I wish never got me very far on the road to "here", and I seriously doubt they will get me far on the road to "there" either.  They are part of the illusion and I am a reality kind of gal.  So when the wind blows the smoke away, I am left with the mirror.  My favorite thing about a good mirror is that it provides the opportunity to see more honestly.  Clearly, I am tired and busy and the Gods of Juggling have been exceedingly demanding lately.  I also have amazing family and friends in my life, and we come together in various ways to share whatever might be happening.  Many of us are in the middle of really big, exciting, and somewhat stressful transitions which gives us plenty to talk about - most of it quite positive.  It is also important to admit that when there is a lot of uncertainty, even positive events can feel scary to me.  Despite this I have to find a way to provide a sense of calm and stability for the kids while we wait to see what happens next, and that means finding a grounded and solid place for myself in times of uncertainty, even while having weeks like this.
      OK mirror: you, me, and some quality time once the fry guys are in bed.   I can sit with this, but I am going to studiously ignore any wrinkles or gray hairs that might have appeared - just sayin'.  Even supermom can only take so much reality in a given time frame!

The Story of a Song

      I love children's music (I guess I am that kind of woman).  I love other music as well, but there is just something special about children's music.  I used to sing to the kids I babysat, then to the kids I nannied, the kids at the childcare, and eventually to my own children.  I love the variety of ways in which music can enter into the everyday moments of a child.  We had hello songs, cleanup songs, learning songs, playing songs, celebration songs, and goodbye songs.  My all time favorites, however, are the lullabies.  They are the places in which children learn what academics refer to as the co-regulation of emotion.  But music is a feelings thing for me, and there are not always words to express clearly what is present in some of the shared experiences around lullabies.
      There is one lullaby that has a special place in our family.  It's funny, but I don't even know the name of it, only how to sing it.  I used to drive from Minneapolis to Prior Lake to nurse my youngest daughter when I had a long enough break between classes.  Sometimes it would play in the crib room where we sat, and I would rock her and sing softly.  After she weaned, I rarely sang that particular song.  After we moved I didn't sing at all for a while.
     When she was about 4 her favorite blanket finally disintegrated in the wash machine.  Any parent who has witnessed this understands what I mean when I tell you she was devastated.  There was no anger or frustration, just a deep and profound sense of sadness and loss in her eyes and her voice (she really loved her bunny blanket).    As I was tucking her in that night, I agreed that extra lullabies were in order; one was not sufficient for a day like this.  So we went through every lullaby I could think of.  As I was getting ready to leave the room she begged for one more; she insisted that there was a special one I did not sing for her.  I couldn't remember anything else, and was dismayed as she became tearful.  I asked her if she knew what it was called. "No."  So I asked if she could hum a bit. "I can't remember."  Did she remember any of the words? "Hearts and cheeks," she sobbed.
      There was a hint of a memory, so I started humming.  After a few notes, it was a tidal wave; lyrics from one verse, the refrain, music, images, and the profound sense of peace that I felt in those moments we shared.  I don't know what the lullaby evoked for her, but whatever it was, she needed it that night.  My memory was imperfect, as all memories are, but it was good enough to help her get through the demise of bunny blanket.  

Snow Day!

     We were gifted with a snow day Thursday.  I mean a real one… we had 14 inches before morning, school was at first delayed and then cancelled, and I couldn’t even drive half a block towards work without getting stuck (4 times I might add).  And 6 hours later, it’s still snowing… Needless to say, I called it good enough, had the receptionist reschedule my clients, and stayed home with the kids. 

     Now this could have been a frustrating experience.  I have a lot to do (clients, dissertation research, projects I am working on, etc) and having a day where I cannot accomplish what needs to be done definitely increases my anxiety level.  But today was different.  The giant, wet snowflakes were clinging to every surface, giving our community an almost whimsical appearance.  This is the winter wonderland my mind conjures when I listen to holiday music, and I am in it today.

     Another beautiful thing about snowy days (at least the reallllly snowy ones) is the way people come together.  When I was warming up the car to go to work, my neighbor was stuck.  So she, two other neighbors, and I were digging.  Then my son came out to lend a hand.  Then another motorist stopped and offered assistance.  She got going, and I went to leave.  My parking is off the back alley, and I got stuck before making it to the road.  Then I got stuck turning onto the road.  A neighbor I had never met came over with her shovel and my kids brought ours from the house.  We dug the car out, I turned onto the road, and got stuck 100 feet away at the stop sign.  And two guys drove up to help, my car got turned around, and stuck again.  We managed to dig a path to the nearest driveway where I could turn around and head for home.  And guess what, I got stuck trying to pull over to the side of the road in front of my house!   The neighbor across the way was trying to leave for work at this time, and she got stuck too, so we all grabbed our shovels and dug her out since we had become so proficient at it! 

     Driving is out of the question and we ran out of milk and bread (oh reality, I love you).   Luckily I have an occasionally adventurous son, and he decided it would be cool to walk a mile to Albertson’s in the snowstorm with his mother to acquire said items.  It is not too often that an autistic adolescent decides to indulge in a bit of an adventure, so this was a rare opportunity.  We got to chat about school and his friends, college aspirations, fears about our upcoming move, and what he plans to do next time he plays his favorite game.  He flitted from topic to topic, just letting himself say what came to mind.  We walked, plodded, stumbled, and laughed.  For the time it took to walk there, shop, and walk back I was listening to and being present with his world, with no distractions or competition for my attention.  

     As my son and I were walking to the store we saw others digging each other out.  We stopped and chatted, learned that a guy in the apartment building down the street is excited to celebrate his dog’s first birthday next month.  We learned that the lady at the corner is a graduate student as well, and is getting ready to start her thesis proposal.  And coming home, I learned that some neighbors complain when Terry or Bob get out their 4 wheelers and plow the parking lane on the street.   So Terry said he does not plow much these days, but he cleared the area in front of my house and in front of Mandy’s.  I cannot make it back to my alley parking space, but she and I both have plenty of room to share.  And now I get to bake a loaf of bread, because I do appreciate Terry and his snow plowing 4 wheeler.   It’s the small things people do that connect them, despite our busy and canalized every day worlds; sometimes it takes a snow day for us to share those every day moments with each other.