Author: MenayO

Going forward after stepping back.

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Many of you know I am a registered nurse but I haven’t worked as a nurse in about 9 years. I left my last office job shortly before I became pregnant with Samantha who is now 8yrs old. I swore I wouldn’t work as a nurse again. Swore up down and sideways: nope not going back. I tried doing retail (which I loved by the way) but the schedule was too demanding for our family. I tried my own business of reselling my awesome thrift finds but that didn’t work out either. So now I find myself job hunting with no real skills other than nursing skills. The only thing I’m skilled to do is what I swore off doing. I’m also watching friends of mine returning to school to study… you guessed it; nursing. Here I am already armed with that education and some experience and I can’t even get a job at Trader Joes.

So now I find myself calling the State Board of Nursing to inquire about renewing my license that I had let lapse. It’s no big deal to renew, I have to pay a small fee and take an infection control class (The OCD/neurotic in me already did that right after calling the Board of Nursing). I’m on my way. I’m wondering if this is what’s meant to be. When I say to myself, “You’re a nurse” it just feels “right”. Is this the path the Lord has meant for me for these past years and I fought Him tooth and nail kicking my feet, with nothing else working out? I believe the answer to be yes. I laugh at myself and how determined I was to NOT work in this field again. Then there I am making that phone call.

But now I’m wondering who will hire me after being out of the loop for 9 years. I’m cautiously optimistic as I do believe if this is what God wants me to do, He will also provide a job for me that will be perfect for me and perfect for the needs of my family. I’m sure I’ll be uncomfortable and downright scared but I have to have faith it will work out. My life is in no other hands but His.

After Breakfast

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We took Thomas out for breakfast this morning. We hadn’t seen him since his 18th birthday earlier this month. It was so awesome to see him and spend a little time together. What’s even more awesome is how he’s adjusted to living away from us. Thomas honestly looks happy. Happy to be there with people who have more patience and structure than we’ll ever have. It stings though. Stings that we aren’t able to provide what he needs. I used to joke and say one day I would be an old lady living with Thomas…and 6 cats. These days I don’t joke like that anymore because my son will be living away from me. I’ll probably still have the 6 cats though.

I never thought I’d see my son so independent of us. I’m happy for him. He still needs us as his family but he doesn’t need us for his day to day living. The staff at his school now fills that need. I’m ok with that too. It occurred to me while driving home that there were so many times during Thomas’ childhood that I couldn’t wait for him to be older, mainly so we could obtain a proper diagnosis and treatment. We/I was jerked around so badly by so many professionals it made for Thomas’ childhood to be very trying to put it lightly. I’m stunned at how fast the past 18 years have gone by. Stunned. Yet like most mothers I can recall certain memories as if they were literally yesterday. I don’t want to go back in time, once a go ’round was quite enough for me thanks. I remember so many people telling me to enjoy my kids when they were much younger and me scoffing at them. What the hell did they know about my life? I did enjoy them the best I was able to. As a parent of older teens I see how fast time flies but I won’t tell other parents to “enjoy them while they’re little”. It’s not all fun and games, in my opinion anyway.

With my older kids I’ve enjoyed and are still enjoying every stage. Some more than others. These teen years can give anyone a run for their money. Then I have Samantha who’s almost 8 and she gives me a totally different perspective. I have the opportunity to do some things differently but not like night and day parenting. My core parenting style has not changed.

But getting back to Thomas and how things are so very different that I ever imagined they would be. I always saw myself as being his care giver. At least until he entered a group home and I never had an imagined time that would be. It was always “somewhere” in the future but don’t ask me when. I never imagined he would acclimate to this school like he has. There are no tears when we say good bye, no long torturous, please don’t leave goodbyes. There’s like today, “Thomas would you like to hang out a bit after breakfast?” The answer I received? “No…bye!” He had things to do, he spent time with us and breakfast was over. And that’s ok.

Birthdays

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thomas and me birthday

My Thomas celebrated his 18th birthday this past week. It kind of blew me away that my first baby is now 18 years old. 18 years. It truly seems like yesterday I gave birth. I guess it will always seem that way no matter how old my children get. But 18…man! That’s a milestone. And what an 18 years it has been. How different things would have been if Thomas were an average “typical” child. But that’s not how God wanted it, planned it. It’s taken me a long time to accept that fact. That no matter what I did or didn’t do during my pregnancy and what the midwife did or didn’t do during Thomas’ delivery, The Father was/is in charge and was overseeing everything so that His plan was the one that played out.

It’s hard not to imagine what life could have been like had Thomas not been born the way he was. I like to tell myself there are no guarantees that he would have been a walk in the park. There’s no way of knowing if drugs would have been an issue. Would he have been extremely rebellious? Cutting school? I don’t know. I had a dream not to long ago that Thomas was completely typical. We were sitting together with Alyssa and talking. I don’t remember what we talked about but it was amazing and took me all day to get over that dream. My husband has had a similar dream as well. Was that a gift from The Lord to show us what to expect when we are no longer a part of this world? That there is a part of Thomas He has yet to reveal to us?

18 years old. 18 years of loving this child, fighting for him, changing who I am at my very core, my soul. Being who Thomas is changed me for who I am. I know that was part of The Lord’s plan as well. Amazing isn’t it? The domino effect.

We had an awesome family celebration for Thomas at a local restaurant by his school. Practically the whole staff came out to sing him Happy Birthday. Thomas was overwhelmed and almost hid behind Tommy. I stared at this child of mine. He’s still and always will be my “child” but now he’s a young man. The Lord will continue to work in us and He will continue to give us “gifts” that will glorify Him.

Identity

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It’s here, summer vacation; the kids are off from school. Part of me really enjoys the lack of a schedule, not getting up early and encouraging certain children to get ready for school on time. There’s the other part of me that misses the routine. That predictable routine. The certain number of almost guaranteed kid free hours. I will admit though I do get bored when everyone is in school, I’m currently searching for a part time job (with no success) to get me out of this house when everyone is in school. I will also admit I’m not thrilled with my current station of stay at home mom. Honestly at this point in time it is not something I would recommend anyone to do. Stay home that is. The loss of identity is overwhelming. I think that is one of my issues right now. I know I’m a wife, a mom of 4 and a Christian; in no particular order. Those are the big 3 identities I can think of right now and all put together they just don’t seem “enough”. As I’ve written before I envy those moms who are at home like me who seem to have it all together.

With Thomas not living here my identity did a major shift. I’m still his mother but I’m also not “Thomas’ mother” the way I was when he lived home. When he entered residential school I gave him to them with a heavy heart. I still mourn that loss of identity. It was like the rug was taken from under me. I wouldn’t change our decision of residential school, it was absolutely the best for Thomas and our family. And two years later it still remains the best decision.

I want a magic ball, the one where you can look into the future and see what path God has put us on and how it all plays out. Which leads to the identity of being a Christian. I firmly believe He makes all things work together for our good. But where’s the script? I know I’m being silly in wanting these things but I know I can’t be alone in wanting to know am I on the road He wants me on? Have I strayed from His path and not known it? I want to please the Lord but have insecurities where there should be none. His grace is sufficient and there should be no “buts”. His way is perfect, I just need to remind myself of that. And if I have strayed He will find a way to lead me back on track. That’s where faith comes in. Faith that God will always be with us and believing and knowing with all your heart that His way is the best way.

In the city with my Alyssa

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With yesterday being the last full day of school for Samantha, Alyssa and I decided to take advantage and we headed to Manhattan to thrift shop.  The thrift scene around here has dried up with me personally not finding the former awesome finds I’d become accustomed to.  Just a bunch of department store clothing.  Not thrilling, IMO anyway. 

So we took the ferry across to the city and promptly caught the uptown 1 train.   On the subway we were then serenaded by 2 older gentlemen, one was a former member of The Drifters we were told.  After the singing we transferred to the number 2 express train which got us uptown in no time! Alyssa being a typical 15yr old talked my ear off the whole time.  I’m not complaining I enjoyed it, I loved hearing her unfiltered point of view regarding just about everything important in her life.   We got off at 96th St. and Broadway to hit the Salvation Army there. Yes we went that far uptown :).   I love this store, you seriously never know what you’re going to find.  Sometimes you hit it big other times…not so big.  Like I’ve walked out of there empty handed with a heavy heart but that’s the thrill of the thrift, the hunt!

This time both Alyssa and I both scored.  She found the coolest pair of “genie pants” (think more attractive MC Hammer pants) that are apparently very in style right now.  The pants looked brands new and were from TopShop which can be quite spendy in price.  Alyssa also found the cutest sundress perfect for summer.  But then again she is 15 and what wouldn’t look cute on her?  I scored with True Religion denim that fit perfectly (squeal!), a zip around Kate Spade wallet and awesome cotton/linen J Crew pants.  I heart J Crew when I score it at the thrift. 

 

 

After about an hour or so we called it quits to get home early as Alyssa was getting together with friends and I wanted to have lunch before picking up Samantha. We caught the express train downtown and were all set to transfer to the 1 to the ferry terminal when the conductor made an announcement that the service to the ferry via the 1 train was interrupted and gave instructions to catch another train. Alyssa and I exited on Fulton street and oh my goodness we had NO idea where to go which way was the ferry?? After a couple of false starts I spied 2 building security guards on a corner and asked them how to get to the ferry. They were nice enough to give us directions and off we went! I’d say we walked about 10 blocks, far enough IMO.

I’d say our day was a fun thrifting success and more importantly I had a great time with my daughter.

Just passing time

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Just passing time, ticking off events as they happen, waiting for the next meeting, appointment, upcoming event.  That’s how I see my life lately.  I want to stop and be in the moment.  Almost freeze time so I can savor the experience.  My son is turning 18 in a few weeks and it blows my mind~literally.  Blows it.  Being “Thomas” there is no big deal high school graduation (special ed educates until he turns 21) and I’m ok with that.  Yes it stings to see other young men his age celebrating and moving on to the next chapters of their lives but it is what it is and Thomas is who he is.  I don’t want to go back in time to when he was younger, no thank you I did it once and that was enough.  However lately I do wish to slow time down just a bit so I can enjoy his short home visits, enjoy watching him order his own meal in a restaurant and ask that his drink be refilled. Things that are taken for granted when your child is typical. Not so much when special needs is the case.  Tommy and I were quite proud of him tonight at dinner when Thomas stepped into that independent role.  He did it naturally and without missing a beat.  Those moments I’d love to slow down and not feel as if they just flew by. 

I’ve watched my older girls mature in an alarmingly fast rate of speed.  My Alyssa will be 16 a week after Thomas turns 18.  I enjoy her and Daniella (13yrs old) in that they are not babies any more.  I enjoy the freedom that is relatively still new to me that I can leave them alone in the house if I need to run to the store or run a few errands.  Besides they would rather not come along with me anyhow.  And that’s ok.  This is when I want to slow down time.  Because I feel as if adult hood is so fast around the corner it will make my head spin. 

 

I still have Samantha who is almost 8 years old. My last, my “baby”, but there’s no way this child is a baby by any means. She’s simply the youngest and I do enjoy her. I enjoy really taking in watching her grow. I have the time to do that with her because she is the youngest. Plus with Thomas in residential school my attention isn’t split between him and the girls.

I think I need to stop passing time and just go with the passing of time and enjoy that for now.

Praying hard…

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I’ve not hidden the fact that I am a Christian, that I pray, and that I have been diagnosed with depression.  Sometimes I feel like all three of those things are what define me lately.  I think about our Lord constantly wondering what His plans are, every day praying for direction and guidance.  I pray for Him to take away the depression, just literally take it away and since that’s not happening soon enough for me, I also thank The Lord for placing me in the hands of wonderful professionals who know how to treat me.  I thank Him for the knowledgeable and warm doctor and therapist I am in the care of.  I heard on the radio today, “pray hardest when it’s hardest to pray”.  Wow.  What  a statement.  I felt like this was directly talking to me because when the depression rears its ugly head I find it hardest to pray.  I find it hardest to believe He is with me.  I know in my heart He has not left me and God never will leave me but in those times of “grayness” and confusion I do pray when it’s hardest to pray and sure enough the fog lifts and I again feel secure in the love of my Lord.  And I’m so glad I did pray. Sometimes all I do is praise Him and thank Him for the many blessings He has given me. Many times just doing that; thanking and praising is enough to kick start some serious prayer session and I’m so glad I did that.

I saw my doctor yesterday. I let the depression carry on while I tried to fight it while refusing to call my doctor. Finally I just grew tired. Tired of feeling as if life is just passing me by while I mark off time. God placed this warm, extremely competent and caring physician in my path, I am a fool to not take advantage of that. I learned recently it can take a somewhat long time to recover from depression and trauma. Interesting, in my opinion anyway. I seriously thought I would take some meds, get some therapy and be on my happy way. Wrong. I never in a million years thought I’d still be in this battle. It is a battle and I’m fortunate that God is with me. I pray when it’s hardest to pray and He hears me.

The least of these

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Last week I was on the subway and there was an obviously homeless man sprawled out sleeping on the seats across from me.  He was very disheveled, dirty and his hair was all over the place, like it hadn’t been cut or groomed since who knows when.  Being the people watcher that I am I found this man fascinating.  Every now and then he would half awake and mimic in a high pitched voice the subway conductor who would warn, “Stay clear of the closing doors” between each stop.  I couldn’t stop staring at him all the while thinking of what Jesus taught that what we do to the least of them, we also do for him.  I will admit the homeless man scared me.  I was afraid he would catch me staring at him when he opened his eyes now and then.  I kept thinking, “Was I supposed to do something” for him as a Christian?  Where’s the rule book?  I didn’t  do anything except stare and watch him wondering about his life.  He wasn’t asking for money or food, he was merely sleeping on the crowded subway.  Was he ok with being homeless, was he mentally ill?  The thought that he may be mentally ill made me sad. This man was somebody’s son maybe brother.

I’m not proud that I was afraid of him.  But the whole subway ride I kept thinking of Jesus and what He would have done which was a heck of a lot more than I did.  I was wondering because I call myself a Christian am I really talking the talk and walking the walk?  I don’t believe it would have been a safe thing to do, to approach this man alone as a woman, but it make me think more about Jesus and what He would have done.
 

Change of pace

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Now that our youngest child is approaching 8yrs of age, I find myself wondering where do I fit in now?  When everybody was younger and Thomas was living home it was easy to define my role.  I was/am The Mom.  The Stay at Home Mom.  Overseer of all my children. Taking care of everything for everybody.  Now that the girls are older and Thomas isn’t living at home anymore  I find myself  in a state of not knowing what to do with myself.  I’m tired of cleaning ~ I used to clean like nobody’s business trying to keep up with these stupid standards I had in my head, but now I don’t have those standards anymore and I just keep everything nice.  However these days we’re in the middle of a kitchen ceiling renovation so things aren’t as “nice” as I’d like them to be.  So getting back to fitting in, I feel like an anomaly of sorts.  I do know other SAHM’s who are at or around my age and I have this thought in my head that I’m the only one having a hard time that I’m still home, wondering where I fit in.  I should ask them how they feel, but I think there’s a part of me that’s afraid they are going to say how happy and fulfilled they are staying home and meanwhile I am not.  

Then I tell myself that I’m exactly where God wants me right now and I just need to let go of my anxieties concerning this and know that He has a plan.  I’ve been applying to jobs for months now and I haven’t heard boo from any of them.  Right there that should tell me I’m supposed to be home right now.   I just don’t want to be.  I wonder how women did this stay at home thing many years ago, it wasn’t expected that they return to work after the kids went to school.  They just stayed home.  I guess they had many hobbies or something.

With everyone getting older I’m not needed as much.  I know they still need me, heck I still need my mother at times.  But there are more times that they are so independent of me I’m left wondering what to do?  And as whiney as I may sound don’t be mistaken I don’t even miss the days that everyone was small and totally needed me.  No, I don’t miss that at all.  In fact I cringe when I see some mother at the mall or grocery store and she’s trying to shop with all these small kids around, or the mom in the school yard trying to keep an eye on everyone after school.  No thank you. 

Maybe I need a happy medium?  I just need to find that.  Or a job.

 

Adventures at the flea market

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I almost forgot to write about the flea market I was a vendor at a couple of weeks ago. I figured it would be worth it to rent a space and try and get my business cards and my name out there.  I set up my space with all my merchandise which consists of pre-owned clothing, shoes and handbags (www.nayaudo.com is my website).  I was by myself of I would have set up a tent to keep the sun at bay.  I was fortunate that the next space over was a lovely retired couple selling Royal Dalton figurines along with some various yard sale nick knacks.

I thought I came prepared.  I had merchandise, change, I brought my lunch and water bottles.  I even had a comfy chair.  People are funny at flea markets I’ve concluded.  They do not want to talk or chit chat.  They just want to look over your “stuff”.  Most people didn’t even respond when I said, “Hi how are you?”  Strange I tell you.  Anyway I said I thought I was prepared.  What I wasn’t prepared for was the haggling!  Man.  When asked a price I was immediately met with an answer of half my price.  Half!  That’s not haggling that’s insulting.  I would shoot back another price just as fast.  I became a quick learner. I also learned to start higher on my pricing strategy and stay firm.

It was also the best opportunity for people watching. I loved seeing the couple next to me deal with hagglers. At one point the wife became annoyed over a customer haggling her over a dollar for a set of drinking glasses. Seriously? Yes the hagglers became amusement. It was also noticed that the nicer someone dressed was NO indication of whether or not they would spend money. A well dressed mother/daughter pair carrying expensive handbags was very quick to literally paw through my merchandise and not buy a single thing. Meanwhile, the more modest dressed customers were much more polite (still haggled me) but were more likely to buy. I thought that was interesting.

I am planning to attend another similar flea market next month. I can say this time I’ll be even more prepared and I hope not to get as haggled down again.