Blogs are all the rage. Blogs about everyday life. Blogs about giving birth to a special needs child. Blogs about celebrities. Blogs about just about anything and everything. But one thing I haven't found is a blog about how I feel inside when I talk to my mom.

Mom and I have had a relationship filled with extremes. Usually the bad kind of extreme. I am not sure when it really started although I think I was aware as a very young child that she and I did not see eye to eye about life. There was no sensitivity to my feelings or nurturing of those feelings. One of my very first memories was of Mom taking a nap (because she was pregnant, I think. More than likely I was supposed to be napping too.) and I got into her make up. I must have watched her put on her make up because I remember being frustrated that I couldn't see the mirror to put on the lipstick. I did the best I could and then I went into the living room to sit and wait for Mom to see how beautiful I was with my make up on. Sure enough she woke up and came through the living room, took one look at me and burst into laughter proclaiming that I looked like a clown. I remember how hurt I was because she did not think I was pretty; rather she thought I was ugly...a clown. From that moment forward most of my memories of Mom involve conflict. Some conflict that was very public and some that was kept inside and buried deep down inside of me.

As the years have passed, I have come to terms with the mother I have and stopped longing for the mother I truly wanted to have. Instead, my goal in life was to be the kind of mother that I wished for so badly. And I think I was successful. My daughter and I are very close. My son and I are equally as close. They know that I would do anything for them; that they can count on me to listen to them, rejoice with them, cry with them and be their rock if they are struggling with their life storms. There is absolutely nothing that would keep me from them and I rejoice that they know this. Both of them are strong independent people who love others deeply, laugh heartily and are compassionate. But I digress. As the years have passed, I have made my peace with my mother. When I find her annoying or seeing her trying to anger me, I remind myself that she loves me as best she can and the taunting is an old habit that will not die until she does.

But that is the rub. She is dying. Slowly but surely, inch by inch. My mother is dying and I am sad. Why should I be so sad when she has caused me so much anguish in my lifetime? But I am sad because I love her in spite of the mother she was to me. I know her. I understand her better than she realizes. It makes me sad to see what is happening to her.

It all started almost a year ago...really started..yes, she had been declining before that but in slower increments. But on June 19, 2009, my mother had a spinal cord stroke that left her left leg useless. I thanked God that I was in the state when it happened and that I could be there to support her and dad...to talk to doctors and therapists..to understand what was happening and what the course of treatment would be first hand. My sister and I are close and together we would do what needed to be done to support the folks. For once, I would be useful to the family and they would be grateful for my love and support.

Well...yes and no. Old habits die hard and while I may have made peace with my family, it appeared as if my family and I were not on the same page. Those first weeks after Mom's stroke brought so many hurt feelings it was beyond belief. My sister and I clashed. My brothers would not return my calls and Mom shut me out. Totally. Hippa laws protect that patient's rights and she exercised hers to shut me from the direct contact with doctors and therapists. I wondered if I was even really a member of the family. Maybe I was a stranger born into their midst, raised by them but never really "one of them." It was a very painful time.

Time does heal all wounds though. My sister and I reconciled. I talk occasionally to one of my brothers and I talk every week at least once a week to my parents. Mom wants to walk again. Doctors and therapists would tell her that she would. She was in therapy but she wasn't working to learn all that she needed to learn because in her mind, she was going to spring from the bed or the wheelchair and walk again just as she had before she had the stroke. Week by week she held out hope that she would walk. She set dates. I'll be walking by Thanksgiving, Christmas...my birthday she would declare. The dates would come and go and she would sink a little deeper into herself. She blamed the therapists, the doctors, dad, and God. She never put it together that the medications she had to take to control her RA held a great deal of responsiblity for her physical condition. God must not love me she proclaimed to me the other week. And why do you say that, Mom I ask? Because He isn't letting me get better and walk. I cry inside all the while staying calm and rational in the face of her irrationality.

To be continued......

Its been March since I blogged???? Wow, where does the time go??

It is May 1st. I am watching the Kentucky Derby early races and I think: Why didn't I move to Kentucky when I was young? Why didn't I try to get on with a horse farm when I was a kid? I so love horses and watching the races thrills me. My heart is in my throat as I pray no horse falls and gets hurt on the wet track and thrills when I see a horse from the back come around and take the lead. Since I have no "favorite" it really doesn't matter to me who wins and who doesn't. I do like Kentucky Derby Day.

School is almost over for this year. I am glad. It has been a good year and I have not had any serious issues past October but I am finding as I get closer to retirement that it is harder and harder for me to motivate myself to get things done as quickly as I should. I mean I get my stuff done in time but it doesn't have the same gratification.

It has been nice to have Duane home from Canada. I have to share him with Oregon every week to two weeks but at least he is home for a week to two weeks too. I am handling that really well. His last trip home was so awesome. From the time I picked him up at the airport until the time I took him back we had lots of laughs, good talks and time together. It is like we were almost always on the same thought pattern. I felt really close to him and still do even though he is in Oregon right now. This project could last Duane a couple of years. I am good with that.

Gonna have a bladder biopsy on Thursday. I was pretty nervous about it until I got to talk to my own primary care doctor. He has reassured me that while the procedure may cause me some pain when it is over, it is good to have done. Chances are good that everything will be fine. In fact there is a better chance that things will be fine than there are that things will not be fine so I am just wanting to get it all over with now. I generally handle pain okay so long as it declines day by day so that is where I am the most nervous. But what I know is that we do what we have to do and we handle what we have to handle when the time comes.

Mom is struggling. The doctors have told her that she probably won't walk/one has said she definitely wouldn't walk...the other said...never say never. However, she is filling up with fluid and unless she gets a catheter in soon, things are going to go south for her quickly when it finally happens. I worry for her. When she talks to me she says stuff like "God doesn't love me" and "I don't know why this has happened to me". I have talked to her a lot about this not being a measuring stick of God's love. What it shows me is how much she associates "love" with "getting her way". If someone doesn't give her what she wants when she wants it, then that person doesn't love her. How sad. But Dad has helped to cement that thought process in Mom's mind. Still, I don't wish these things on my parents and I worry for both of them. I just feel that Mom is not doing well.

Well, I want to pay a little more attention to the t.v. and the Derby while doing some cross stitching, so I am going to end this now. I will write more another time. Maybe next Friday after the biopsy.

Have a great day!!!

This past week, Shannon put onto a blog by a woman (girl actually) who, at 31 had her second child. The child has Down's. For those of us who work in special education, we know that having a child with Down's is not the end of the world. In fact, Down's children are generally the angels on Earth. Seeing them smile, makes my day. I can make a smile last for over a week and through the worst of behaviors. Just give me a smile!!

But that made me think...why do some of us get through bad times while others of us get pulled down into the depths of despair? Why do some of us weather those bad times and come out on the other side all right while others of us never recover from it? And at what point do some of us realize that the "bad times" were not really so bad after all?

In thinking about my own experiences and those of my friends and family, I have decided the key is whether we feel sorry for ourselves or not. If we have a sense of entitlement the This-should-not-be-happening-to-me feeling, then we are more likely to suffer through this 'bad time" worse for the wear. We let this experience bog us down, keep us up at night, and all in all impact our everyday life. We begin to see this as a something that will go on for our lifetime rather than realizing that it might be only for the moment.

For those of us who see this bad experience as "momentary", we are more likely to get through it much better. It may keep us awake one or two nights, it might bog us down for a week or so and it might impact our life in a temporary way, but we know it will all be "better in the morning". We look for the "good" in the day cuz we simply cannot take any more "bad". And in looking for the "good" we start to see more good than we expected to see. The child's smile, the beautiful sky, the unexpected interaction with a good friend....all add together to make our day "good". Very seldom is it a BIG thing that makes our day good; rather it is the culmination of many small things.

Certainly, there are lifetime events that don't go away in the morning. Having a baby with Down's or having a stroke or being in an accident that changes who you are and the things you are able to do. None of those things are "momentary". They are life changing events. But I think the philosophy is still the same. Rather than wallow in the "bad", you start to look for the "good". You see the smile of your baby and the recognition that you are important to him/her past being a feeding machine, you make small progressive steps in your life that make you more independent and you redefine who you are and what you can do and then you see all of that as "Good". Suddenly, the bad is not so bad and then the bad is easier to live with and then the bad is all behind you.

I pray that no matter what happens in my life that I am able to always find the good in my day. Talking to Shannon or Michael is good. Watching Alyssa play, sing, dance, talk, walk, laugh, grow is very good in my day. Doing a good job at work is good in my day. Spending time with my husband and appreciating him for who he is is "good" in my day. Yes, I have had bad times. I have been curled on the floor sobbing as if there was no hope for tomorrow. But somehow or another, I have been able to lift my head after a period of time and start looking for the good. I want to always be that way. May I never get lost in that "feel sorry for me" world. That is NOT who I want to be or how I want people to remember me.

Just my thoughts for today!!

On the web

I am at a conference and have been told to create a blog.  However, I already have one so I am typing so I don't look different but I am not going to share my blog address with the room.  I don't know these people and am not comfortable sharing my personal blog space with them.  They will get way too much information about me!!  :)

Checking In

I don't even remember the last time I posted something!! It has been forever.

Life is good...humming along as it were. I am back on the Optifast Diet and have lost almost 12 pounds to date. I am hoping to hit that 12 pound mark tomorrow because I have to weigh in. If I walk the treadmill tonight, I stand the chance. The good thing with the 11.4 pounds down is that I can get back into pants that I had to give up earlier in the fall. They are still snug but they are wearable. I am hoping that by May, I will be back into my summer time clothes from two years ago or even have to buy new summer time clothes. The chance is there; let's see if the determination is. I do think it is though.

Poor Buster. For the last 3 weeks he has been shaking his head, scratching and has generally been miserable. We thought it was the repeat of whatever had caused issues last fall. I asked for antibiodics and got them so I was comfortable but Buster never became comfortable. I took him to the doctor on Monday and he is in sad shape. He has allergies, a yeast infection in both ears and bacterial infections in both ears. The left ear is the most severe. We had to culture the bacteria because the medication wasn't working so obviously this infection is resistant to the antibiodics. Hopefully on Saturday or Monday we will have the answer and be able to get him the right medicine. He did get a steroid shot on Monday which has helped with the itching and he has medication to treat the yeast infection so that seems to be helping. Luckily all the other dogs seem to be doing well although I noticed Mayer really shaking his head the other day. Hope we aren't onto a repeat!!!

School is going well. We have less than 80 days of school left and I am counting every one of them I think. I am so ready to be off for the summer. Some people say they can't imagine staying home all the time. I can. I think I have enough to keep me busy. We'll see.

Okay...gotta get back to work. Just checking in.