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Phone calls

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Our son, Thomas has been calling us lately from school.  I don’t think we called him once, but he’s called us just about every evening with the exception of 2 evenings I believe.  And last night get this, he only wanted to talk to me.  It was really sweet.  Not a deep conversation mind you but he wanted *me*.  This is a big deal, for me at least because when he’s home and starts to get comfortable, Thomas starts sliding backwards towards behavior that landed him in the residential school to begin with.  So to have him say, “No Mom, I want to talk to you”  when I asked him if he wanted to talk to his father, is really sweet and just reinforces that he does love me.  Yes I know he always loves me but it’s difficult to logically tell yourself this when this sweet boy is giving me dirty looks for no reason.

When Thomas returned to school after Christmas, I was ready to have him go back but felt so guilty about feeling that way. Fast forward 2 days and Thomas calls us from school sounding so good, so comfortable, so at home…it was amazing. That really took the sting out of him going back and took some of the guilt away. After talking to Thomas last night it made me want to visit him even more. Tommy and I were discussing the best day/time earlier. But I have to bring the boy socks. He kills me. Thomas insisted he only has one pair (I find this hard to believe) and that we have to bring him socks when we visit. I called the social worker and she promised to look into the sock issue. Regardless, we’ll still bring him socks, why not?

I don’t miss it

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I’m a people watcher.  I watch people where ever I go, the ferry, subway, the school yard, anywhere.  Lately I’ve been watching mothers with young children.  I was that mother not too long ago.  Bringing a child to kindergarten while bringing younger siblings along whether walking, carrying or in the stroller.  It wasn’t easy.  And to be honest I don’t miss it.  No I don’t, there I said it.  People would say to me that I would miss when the kids were young as the kids got older.  Nope, I don’t.  I’m enjoying them as they get older.  I’m not always a fan of the attitude and tone of voices I deal with but for the most part life is easier.  Maybe because life was so stressful trying to figure out Thomas and also raise Alyssa and Daniella. 

I look back at me when Thomas was 5, Alyssa 3 and Daniella a baby. Ack!  Craziness man.  One time I had to get something to wear for my sister’s daughter’s christening.  There was a boutique around the corner and Tommy was working so much I had no choice but to bring all 3 kids with me.  Thomas was I think 7, Alyssa 5 and Daniella 2.  The dressing rooms were the ones with just a curtain covering, we all know how secure that is!  So while I’m trying on clothes Alyssa yells, “MOM!  Thomas just ran out of the store!!”  Of course the store was on a very main street, I ran out of the dressing room yelling at Alyssa to watch Daniella and I grabbed Thomas trying to make a break for it.  I won’t go into how dressed I was or wasn’t but I’m sure some people got a “show” that day.  I laugh now but I wasn’t laughing then.  I’m sure we as mothers/parents all have similar stories.

By the time I had Samantha, Alyssa was 8yrs old and what a help she was!  OMG I never imagined she would have been that great.  By the time Samantha was a year, Alyssa was helping me feed Samantha breakfast.  I didn’t have much help when all 3 were younger at the same time.  I really enjoyed Samantha’s babyhood and even toddler hood.  I’d have to say mainly because the girls were older and Thomas was stable so life was easier. Even now I enjoy Samantha at 7yrs old. 

At one time I thought I never get out of the diaper stage, then I thought I’d never get out of toddlerhood, grade school…etc…  Currently I have one girl in each school ( high school, middle and grade school).   It’s fun and interesting because even though one already went through middle school, the next one is having a completely different experience.  And I’m sure she’ll have her own high school experience as well and then Samantha will be off to middle school.  Yep, I’m good with all this. 

 

 

 

Getting down to business

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I’m in the middle if writing my business plan for my store I dream of opening one day. Yes I dream of opening a high end resale store in my neighborhood (I love my ‘hood). I had the opportunity to take an entrepreneur- ship class last year at the local city college and it was all about learning how to write a business plan. Since last spring I have been procrastinating writing my own plan. Now that I want to someday make this dream a reality I need the business plan.

I feel like I’ve given myself a huge homework assignment. I’m not complaining since this is self imposed but I’m overwhelmed a bit. I think this is the direction The Lord wants me to go. You know when things fall in that direction. I’m not saying I have this clear cut path and message, no not at all. No matter what other things I think of doing as a “grown up” this is one thing I can’t get out of my mind and I keep coming back to it. I have this thrill of the thrift that I keep talking about.

If I’m wrong and it’s not meant to be The Lord will show me and point me in a different direction.

So getting back to this business plan…I know I’m procrastinating by writing here. I haven’t drawn a blank like the one I have for certain parts of this plan in a long time. Usually I start writing and things take off. It’s forcing me to dig deep and use this brain God has given me. I know I can do this. It’s not even like I have little children around anymore to distract me. Even as I’m writing this I’m uninterrupted so I think I’ll take this as my cue to stop procrastinating and get to work. I won’t ask for a wish of luck but a small prayer couldn’t hurt :). Thanks.

Don’t Say it Out Loud

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I’m talking about common treatments for depression.  Medications and therapy, that’s I’m familiar with anyway.  When I first started seeing Nancy for my depression I was dead set against medication.  No way, no how, I’ve thought about it…NO.  I was terrified as I’ve written in previous posts. If I started medication I thought I was weak or *really* so sick I that couldn’t wrap it around my brain; I was that messed up and that I needed that much help.

I’ve written about how I did decided to see Dr. L and I did agree to try a mild anti-anxiety med first and then realized that it wasn’t enough. I agreed to anti depressant medication and thus began the trial and error “rollercoaster” that isn’t fun but sometimes necessary to get the correct me or correct combo of meds.

Not until recently did I really appreciate the severity of what happened to me almost 2 years ago when I “went to bed”. I had a severe clinical depressive episode. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before, even when I had the miscarriages. After months of Thomas’ behavior not to mention years of pushing things aside or just trudging through it all, I couldn’t do it anymore. I used to get annoyed at people who say, “I don’t know how you do it” referring to my son and my girls when Thomas was not doing well. You “JUST DO IT” as the Nike commercial says. You seriously just do. You put your head down and go forward.

When Thomas became aggressive to me after years of him being so stable that he wouldn’t even think of hitting me, I broke down. I remember thinking I couldn’t go through this again. I guess once around is my limit. That trauma was so intense I still struggle to describe it and talk about it.

But getting back to taking medication. This past year when talking I found I still lowered my voice if I decided to tell someone, “I take antidepressants” Why do we still do this? Lately I consciously keep my voice even, I mean I don’t need to yell it or shout out loud but I don’t want to lower my voice as if I’m ashamed or I’m afraid other people will hear. I’ll tell anyone I’m in therapy. In fact I think everyone should have the opportunity to go into therapy. What happened to me changed the chemistry in my brain. That is not my fault and nor is it the fault of anyone else suffering from depression. Like the miscarriages I felt betrayed by my body. Why couldn’t I just carry on and trudge on through like I did in the past? Why did I now have to deal with “this”?? I felt broken. And then feel embarrassed that I was taking medications? Today I’m not embarrassed that I take meds, it’s necessary at this point in my life much like insulin is necessary to a diabetic or blood pressure medication to a person with hypertension. I know everyone always says that so much it seems like lip service but it’s so true why not say it again.

Lets not whisper it anymore I promise I won’t stare if you won’t.

Hit the thrifts!

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I’m so glad I made it to Manhattan to see Nancy before the snow started.  I don’t know which I’m more happy about, seeing Nancy or hitting on of my favorite thrifts. I scored a gorgeous Lulumon hoodie, OMG that brand is expensive, who knew?  Not me I can tell you.  Anyway I paid 2.00 and I’m proud of it.  I also picked up a couple of sweaters I needed and another hoodie/sweatshirt that has cool embroidery and sequins.  Right up my alley.  Got to love the bling :).

So it’s now snowing and it does look pretty.  Everything looks so quiet and peaceful and clean.  I’m not a fan of snow by any means (not that I have any desire to move down south), but it is nice to look at when it’s first coming down. My girls are already planning their “snow day” tomorrow. They rarely close public schools here but you never know, besides I’ll most likely keep them home anyway.

I noticed this week how much I really have come to enjoy the thrift stores. I got my husband to come with me one day this past week. He’s not a thrift shopper and that’s ok. He came along because he loves me. I told him it’s a “hunt” he said he knows but it’s not his thing. Meanwhile I felt like I had to hit every rack or Heaven forbid I miss something! Ack! Today in Manhattan I noticed I’m quicker in going through the racks and how I can feel quality fabrics and I notice the workmanship of how a garment is finished. That’s how I found the Lulumon hoodie, the fabric, the workmanship, it’s gorgeous.

I also love the one thought mode I have when I’m in the thrifts. All I think about it the hunt and search. Not much else, unless I come across something I know someone is looking for. Then it’s as if I hit the jackpot! I can’t take a picture and text fast enough. And if that person isn’t eagerly awaiting my surprise text (like they really would be…right…) and get back to me right away I’m torn; do I buy this item and take a gamble or leave it and have thrift regret? Most times everyone gets back to me so all is right with the world.

I do have personal thrift regret, certain handbags I hemmed and hawed about and then left them! Oh man…I still think about them believe it or not. I think that’s the only thing I waver on is handbags. Mostly because many times they are priced higher than clothes and do I want to blow my thrift budget on a handbag I may not be in love with and use? Sometimes I totally score like the Kate Spade bag I have from the thrift, it’s new I don’t think anyone used this bag.

I hope this snow doesn’t stick around and keep me housebound and away from the thrifts!

Back to our regular program

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The holidays are officially “over” by my clock and calendar anyway.  I’m glad, whew!  Now upward and onward to getting back to life in general.  It was pretty cool having the kids home for break, I enjoyed sleeping in :).  The girls are getting older that they no longer need me to be “rightthere” all the time.  Thank God.  Seriously.  Samantha at age 7 is fairly low maintenance and if Alyssa is home I can run an errand or two alone by leaving Alyssa to watch Samantha.  I want my life back where kids are in school, choir practice is resumed and all is right with the world.  Oh and I go to Manhattan to see Nancy and after we chat I get to thrift in the big city.  Yes I am excited about that.  I haven’t seen Nancy in about 2 weeks or so and I miss her.  I’m not sure if that is “correct” but I do like her as a person as well as a therapist, although I’m not sure you could NOT like a therapist as a person and still want to have sessions with them.

So yes I’m off to Manhattan and hoping and praying the snow storm predicted won’t begin until I’m back home.  I’m not a fan of driving in the snow, I don’t know many people who are.  I miss going to the city.  I’ve come to the realization that I am having a love affair with NYC, Manhattan in particular.  Living on an outer borough it’s easy to get to Manhattan and I notice my Alyssa will take any opportunity she has to go as well.  I’m glad because I want her to feel comfortable navigating subways and bus lines.  I love to people watch so this is perfect for me.  I know I enjoy the city so much because I’m not dragging myself there and commuting to a job everyday.  However I will say (now) that I’d jump at the chance to work in Manhattan when Samantha is older and much more independent.  If it’s The Lord’s way though.  It won’t happen unless He wants it to and I’m not privy to His plan.

When I do visit the city I enjoy taking public transportation.  For a people watcher, it’s definitely the way to go!  I’ve driven many times and it’s usually a headache and an expensive one at that taking into consideration bridge/tunnel tolls not to mention parking.  Ugh!  Yeah, that’s all I have to say about that.

Yes I’m welcoming back our regularly scheduled program and routine. We had a lovely Christmas, Thomas came home and the visit went for the most part, well. We spent New Year’s Eve with some of the nicest, sweetest people on the planet. Some new friends and some friends we’ve known for years and years. Regardless of how long everyone knew each other, all seemed to find common ground and chat and laugh. I loved hearing people laugh.

I hope everyone has a smooth transition back to their regular schedule/program.

To a new beginning and a great year!

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This is my last post of 2013.  I can’t say 2013 was the best year of my life but it certainly wasn’t the worst.  2012 was way rough compared to 2013.  This past year I’ve struggled with depression and made it through med adjustments, therapy sessions that were at times intense and at other times full of relief.  There isn’t a time that I think of both my doctor and my therapist that I don’t thank God above for placing them both in my life.  Without that combo I honestly don’t know where I’d be right now. 

I was reading over past blog entries specifically dealing with depression and I’m so thankful I’m not in that dark place anymore.  I’m thankful to feel more like “me”.  Good moods are not taken for granted anymore but are recognized and enjoyed to the fullest.  I’m incredibly grateful for my friends and family (both online and in person).  Words fail to describe how I feel about my choir family.  I love our fellowship and the friends I’ve made through the choir.  They are all very strong people who pray for me without me even asking.

I also don’t know where I’d be without my husband.  He’s received quite the education in dealing with a wife fighting depression.  And he’s been wonderful, I’m not just saying that he really has been.

I didn’t set out to make this a “thankful” post but it looks like it’s heading in that direction and that’s ok.  These and many more blessing have followed me this past year through the laughter and the tears.  “Silly” questions I’ve asked and wonderful friends who have an answer.  I am looking forward to 2014 beginning; I think 2013 has had enough and is tired but I hope she goes off quietly and without a huge bang to anyone.

I’m not one for New Year’s Resolutions at all.  But there is one I would really, really like to keep and that is to spread the Gospel and be more bold in my faith.  We are called to make disciples and I’m am ridiculously intimidated by that command.  I know the Holy Spirit will be with me when the opportunity arises and will give me the “right” things to say.  I need to trust and submit.  Maybe those 2 actions should also be part of my “Resolution”.  Yes I think they shall be.

We are ringing in the new year with a small party, a gathering of friends and family and friends that are more like family than anything else.   I love it.  I love that people want to come to our house and celebrate with us, I love that we have such people to get together with and be comfortable, laugh, have fellowship, talk and laugh some more and usher in a New Year. 

Good bye 2013.

Happy New Year!

Today

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Today Thomas went back to school.  I wonder when the visits and saying goodbye will be “easy”.  They’re not full of tears and heart wrenching goodbyes but the emotions involved are hard to digest once he actually does leave.  “I need to have more patience, I wish I didn’t get annoyed when…, Why does he still target me?” I ask these questions rhetorically. This is a sampling of the questions and guilt I still carry a year and half after admitting Thomas to residential school.  I know logically he is in a more structured environment with staff who have back up thus probably have more patience and they don’t have the emotional investment I have as Thomas’ mother.  Logic and emotions don’t usually co exist with me.

I’m glad I was able to go to church this morning. I love our Lord and I’m so glad I get to worship him freely. Our Pastor read from Philippians today talking about how Paul wants us to “press on to make it my own because Christ Jesus has made me his own. (Philippians 3:12). This strikes me as so comforting to know that Jesus has made me his own. Pastor also spoke about forgiveness and, “…forgetting what lies behind”(Philippians 3:13). I have a difficult time with this concerning Thomas and all the events leading up to him requiring residential school. Have I forgiven him? Have I forgiven myself for not being enough? Again rhetorical questions that I must work through.

I love the lyrics to the song “You Loved Me Anyway” by the Sidewalk Prophets. http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=y8BBCYFAYRI. That song has ministered to me in ways I can’t even describe.
All the things we are to Him yet He loves us anyway. Thorn in His crown, nail in His wrist, shouting from the crowd for His blood to be spilled, etc… This song reminds me of how great His love for us is. That love is amazing.

And just like that…

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Its over, Christmas that is.  By my personal calendar at least, as I know some religions still celebrate or hold holy days/weeks past the 25th of December.  All the running around, the stress, the angst over choosing that perfect gift for that perfect (or not so perfect) someone.  It’s over.  Until next year, haha.  I love the whole build up to Christmas personally.  The reverence of knowing we are about to celebrate the birth of our Saviour and how wonderful our Saviour is.  I love that part.  I love knowing He came down to us to save us.  Yes I know this. That our Lord took on human form and arrived without bells, whistles, trumpets blaring; it’s amazing and humbling.  

The shopping, meh…I could take or leave it most times. Yes it’s me talking saying I can take or leave “shopping”. Its not the kind of shopping I enjoy, it’s too stressful man! And I KNOW I’m not the only one who feels this way.  Sometimes it’s fun especially when your know what you’re buying is the “one” for that special someone.

We’re having a nice time with Thomas home. He’s been rather pleasant and wants to be helpful most times. Both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day he did an awesome job of helping to clear the table. It’s funny as sometimes he is clearly does not act his chronological age of 17 yrs and other times he comes out with some doozy comments that stop you dead in your tracks and you KNOW he’s in there and so very far from “not smart”.

I’m looking forward to taking my tree down, I realize we’re only 2 days past the big event but I want my house back and I’m tired of sweeping up needles. That said, I loved having a real tree for the first time. The smell was awesome and just having a living tree was just the coolest for once. I would do it again next year (I say this now before taking it down, haha).

I’m also having thrift withdrawal. I haven’t been thrifting in a couple of week due to the Holiday and all my kids home from school. My oldest daughter is in Manhattan today thrifting with her friends and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t envious. She called me with an authenticity question about a pair of premium denim IMO they sound good to me and the price was right so I said to go for them! I can’t wait for her to get home and show me her finds.

So yes, just like that Christmas is over. The fact that our Lord came to earth is still truth but the stress and running around is done for another 350 or so days.

Thomas’ mother.

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And the boy is home!  Over the years I’ve had many emotions while being Thomas’ mother.  When Thomas was born my dad told me, “You no longer have a name, from now on you’ll be ‘Thomas’ Mom”.  I laughed then, 17 years ago but it really is true.  I know I’m also “Alyssa, Daniella and Samantha’s Mom”, but being Thomas’ Mom broke me in, inducted me into motherhood, shattered (in a good/realistic way) whatever false/perfect beliefs I had about motherhood. Introduced me to the person I would become;  a tenacious mother who would search over and over for help for her son.  I look at this young man who is bigger and taller than me.  This young man who will bend down when he hugs me so that his head will rest on my shoulder.   He’s so handsome and so big.  I wish I knew when all this growing up happened.

He is left handed, like me but has green eyes like his Dad.  I’ve never been brought to tears as much as I have for this child of mine.  Tears of joy and happiness as well as tears from pain and fear.  I’m able to sit and write this because Thomas is engaged in coloring Christmas pages.  Gingerbread houses to be exact.  This is when I’m able to sit and stare at him and swell with pride that he is mine.  Thomas is my only child that I’ve had to express to other people that he is indeed MINE.  The girls have always been with me, lived with me there was never any moments of insecurities.  Thomas is once again in residential school.  This time around I haven’t felt the need to remind the staff that he has a mother…that he is mine.  The first time in residential there were many times I wanted to shout from the rooftops, “He has a mother, he is still MINE”.  Will I still do this say in 10 years when Thomas will be 27 years old?  I want to say, “no” but I’m sure I will.    Will I do that to the girls in 10 years?  Most likely no. 

I’m so glad he’s here, home for Christmas.