Somehow, 'everything' seems to be happening this summer.
Most of the things in isolation would cause me some stress but not knock me down.
However, I feel knocked down. Or ready to be knocked down. But I'm stubborn. Very stubborn and I keep going. As I've burst into tears a couple times in the last few week with "I don't want to do this anymore" as I'm talking with my best friend, I know that I will. She knows that I will. I just don't like it.
Pyrope has started kindergarten. He is not particularly enjoying it. His best friend is in his class, which he likes. However, he has informed me on several occasions it is easier for him to learn when I teach him at home. There is too much noise at school. While I agree that I can teach him more academically at home, I saw a very significant decrease in his social and verbal skills since he has been out of school since May. On top of this, he will neither live, go to school, or eventually work in a bubble. He has to learn how to function in the "real world". Academically, he can learn virtually nothing this year, and he will still "pass" kindergarten, as his reading and math skills test at least at a 1st grade level, in some areas a 2nd grade level. So on we will go. With lots of communication to the teacher. I will continue to work on reading, writing, and math at home. He will go to school, communicate with others, socialize, and try to learn how to learn while there.
Obsidian was taken off of growth hormone in July. It wasn't working. The blood tests proved it was not working. His growth velocity had not changed. There is a different hormone, IGF-1, he is now on. Getting it approved of by the insurance is being a chore. My main problem right now is with his doctor. If I could switch doctors I would. Problem being, I can't (practically). The pharmaceutical company that makes it is supplying him (for up to 8 months) with the medication while we are trying to get it approved by insurance. He has been on it for slightly less than 3 weeks. By my measurements (and they have always been accurate in the past), he has grown more in the 3 weeks he has been on IGF-1 than the 6 months he was on GHT (2.6 cm vs 1.9). I'm hoping I'm measuring correctly. I'm hoping (and trying my best) to make sure he can continue on the drug. At this point, I'm not really looking for answers for Obsidian and his medical issues, but just looking for the best treatments I can find. If there is a way to increase his growth rate so he is a typical (or closer to it) height as an adult, it would be great. If a way is not found, I just need to focus on teaching him how to function in a world that is made for adults that are above 5', when he will most likely be right around 4'. I really hope this does give his body what he needs to grow to his genetic potential (which is most likely somewhere in the 5'8" to 5'11" range based on family history).
My work is work. My boss that I like has been moved to a different facility. The one that I have never got along with is it. She is a nice person, but somewhat lacking in managerial skills that would be beneficial to her job.
Jet's job has degraded to the point he updated his resume. This is a large step for him. Finding a job won't be an issue, he just doesn't like change. So he drags his feet when it is time to change. He really has not seriously began to look, apply, or interview. Hopefully the day is coming sooner now. I would have long been gone, for various reasons.
Jet and I have been arguing. I really keep getting the feeling he doesn't see or get my point. Sometimes I think he is trying to taunt me by his actions, but when I stop and really think, I don't feel he is purposely taunting me per se, he just doesn't get what my issue is. No matter how I explain it, or try to have others help me explain it. I'm tired of the argument. I want some sort of resolution. Even if it means a resolution that I don't particularly like or want. I just don't like where we, or rather our relationship is. Or the cycle we seem to be stuck in. Jet doesn't appear to be nearly as bother by all of it. That or he is just hoping it will go away, which is really the most likely scenario.
A couple of the positions I took on this spring in organizations are more than I anticipated. Not horribly more. Not more than I can handle. Just more than I expected. And I find it wearing. I keep saying that soon that will calm down. And it really should.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Not working
I've been measuring Obsidian as I always do. Since he was a premie and he has inital jaundice issues, I've weighed and measured him regularly.
So I knew that his growth had not excellence in the 6 months he was on growth hormone. It was the same for all intents and purposes. Bloodwork needed to be done to make sure there was not significant improvements in his IGF-1 factor. The doctor was supposed to call me with the results and to discuss the plan. At the appointment he didn't want to go into detail because he didn't have all of the information yet (I had called to ask to do the bloodwork prior to the appointment as I knew he didn't grow as hoped, but doctor wanted his measurements to prove this prior to bloodwork). I was told it could take up to a week after the bloodwork was drawn.
Lo and behold, 5 days after the bloodwork was drawn, I got a letter in the mail (mailman delievered our mail at 4:30 that day, doctor's office closes at 4. Some days we get our mail by 8:30 am).. Well, that is somewhat inaccurate. I got a copy of the office visit note (which is standard for where we go). Initially I was reading through it. No new news. Then I get to page 5 of 5. The results of the new bloodwork are in. Appearently I'm to immediately stop giving him GH, and as soon as insurance approves, he is to be on another medicine. That is injected. Twice a day. Oh yes, his diagnosis to why he isn't growing is something different.
Being the information craving Mama Bear that I am I research the drug some. There are some different details with this drug. It must be given with food. If not, Obsidian can become hypoglycemic. In general, Obsidian can now become hypoglycemic (but the risk is particularly high if he doesn't have a full meal within 20 minutes of eating). When I talk to the doctor the next day, he does not mention this. I bring it up to him. He said, oh yes, that could happen. I'm sure my nurse will tell you about that. She'll contact you in the next week. But if you haven't heard from her in 2 weeks, call us. Don't worry my friend. I will be all over you case in less time than that.
I'm curious to how this is going to pan out with our insurance. This is a relatively new drug, released in 2005. It is not considered experimental, but at the same time, there is not a large body of evidence yet. The large long term longitudinal studies do not exist. Partly because of time. Partly because it is rare. It is an expensive drug. As Obsidian is 3 and if it works he will have to take it until he has completed puberty, this will be a long term treatment. It is an expensive drug. All of these things combined, make me wonder if he will be approved. Or if I will have to jump through hoops. Or do battle. Or if I will win the battle.
And I'm tired. And sad. I knew that the odds were not in his favor for growth hormone to work as well as it can in some people, but I had hope. You have to have hope to enter in on something like that. I have hope that this new drug will help. I have fear that it won't. I have a fear that we will not get the chance to find out if would work. I have a fear we will find that it does work, switch insurance (which we do regularly, long story, I am not a fan of the US healthcare system as it is today) and they don't approve it. I have a fear that I will have episodes of hypoglycemia to deal with. I fear that Obsidian will have to deal and feel hypoglycemic. I know how that feels, and it sucks. I fear that there are negative long term risks, risks that we don't even know are risks. By the time that data is in, it will be far to late for Obsidian. So many people think it is the actual injection that is the "bad" part. Honestly, I could care less. I have no issue or fear of that. Obsidian doesn't like shots, but it is not an ordeal. It will become a part of life, as did the bedtime one did. I'm not looking forward to it. I dread even more having to every day have a full breakfast and dinner for him and making sure if he/we are out at those times I have the stuff packed and with him/us. But is a dread like filling up my car with gas when it is 10 degrees below zero. You live with it, you do it.
It is the other fears that keep me up. But one foot in front of the other. As my new keychain says:
So I knew that his growth had not excellence in the 6 months he was on growth hormone. It was the same for all intents and purposes. Bloodwork needed to be done to make sure there was not significant improvements in his IGF-1 factor. The doctor was supposed to call me with the results and to discuss the plan. At the appointment he didn't want to go into detail because he didn't have all of the information yet (I had called to ask to do the bloodwork prior to the appointment as I knew he didn't grow as hoped, but doctor wanted his measurements to prove this prior to bloodwork). I was told it could take up to a week after the bloodwork was drawn.
Lo and behold, 5 days after the bloodwork was drawn, I got a letter in the mail (mailman delievered our mail at 4:30 that day, doctor's office closes at 4. Some days we get our mail by 8:30 am).. Well, that is somewhat inaccurate. I got a copy of the office visit note (which is standard for where we go). Initially I was reading through it. No new news. Then I get to page 5 of 5. The results of the new bloodwork are in. Appearently I'm to immediately stop giving him GH, and as soon as insurance approves, he is to be on another medicine. That is injected. Twice a day. Oh yes, his diagnosis to why he isn't growing is something different.
Being the information craving Mama Bear that I am I research the drug some. There are some different details with this drug. It must be given with food. If not, Obsidian can become hypoglycemic. In general, Obsidian can now become hypoglycemic (but the risk is particularly high if he doesn't have a full meal within 20 minutes of eating). When I talk to the doctor the next day, he does not mention this. I bring it up to him. He said, oh yes, that could happen. I'm sure my nurse will tell you about that. She'll contact you in the next week. But if you haven't heard from her in 2 weeks, call us. Don't worry my friend. I will be all over you case in less time than that.
I'm curious to how this is going to pan out with our insurance. This is a relatively new drug, released in 2005. It is not considered experimental, but at the same time, there is not a large body of evidence yet. The large long term longitudinal studies do not exist. Partly because of time. Partly because it is rare. It is an expensive drug. As Obsidian is 3 and if it works he will have to take it until he has completed puberty, this will be a long term treatment. It is an expensive drug. All of these things combined, make me wonder if he will be approved. Or if I will have to jump through hoops. Or do battle. Or if I will win the battle.
And I'm tired. And sad. I knew that the odds were not in his favor for growth hormone to work as well as it can in some people, but I had hope. You have to have hope to enter in on something like that. I have hope that this new drug will help. I have fear that it won't. I have a fear that we will not get the chance to find out if would work. I have a fear we will find that it does work, switch insurance (which we do regularly, long story, I am not a fan of the US healthcare system as it is today) and they don't approve it. I have a fear that I will have episodes of hypoglycemia to deal with. I fear that Obsidian will have to deal and feel hypoglycemic. I know how that feels, and it sucks. I fear that there are negative long term risks, risks that we don't even know are risks. By the time that data is in, it will be far to late for Obsidian. So many people think it is the actual injection that is the "bad" part. Honestly, I could care less. I have no issue or fear of that. Obsidian doesn't like shots, but it is not an ordeal. It will become a part of life, as did the bedtime one did. I'm not looking forward to it. I dread even more having to every day have a full breakfast and dinner for him and making sure if he/we are out at those times I have the stuff packed and with him/us. But is a dread like filling up my car with gas when it is 10 degrees below zero. You live with it, you do it.
It is the other fears that keep me up. But one foot in front of the other. As my new keychain says:
God grant me
the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
the strength to change the things I can
and the wisdom to know the difference
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Pegasus
Recently Pyrope and his best friend, A, have decided that her mother's minivan is really a magical pegasus. After everyone gets in and her mom starts the car, it turns into a pegasus and flies-- not drives. While they are going to their destination, a running story or commentary goes on about it.
Since this has started, when I drive my car, Pyrope and Obsidian tell me how they wish I had a magical pegasus as a car. I ask them why I can't. I've been told you can't pretend the same thing. That's not fun! So my car has become a digger, Lightnigh McQ***n, and various other things, with story lines to go along with it. At the end of each trip, I get told that it is not "really right" and that they will have to "try again to find the perfect pretend for my car". Okay, you do that. It is easier to take some days than the 8,000 times I sing the ABC song, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and 5 Little Ducks (the current favorites, but actually these songs rotate on a regular basis, so it isn't that bad. They have a large repertoire of songs, and favorites change regularly).
We were talking with someone whose son is 2 years older than Pyrope. He was saying how he can't go anywhere in the car without his son having to play on his iPh**e or some sort of hand held game. I said that both of our kids lose interest, and we wind up talking about pegasi (is that the plural of pegasus?), other such stories, or signing songs. Even on long trips, portable DVD players and video games don't entertain nearly as long. He said "They know what a pegasus is?" Um, yeah. They also like to be a cyclops around the house. And dragons. And knights. And crusaders. Please don't bring up Musketeers unless you want to see random objects turned into swords and then the moves that go with it (and pretty please don't bring it up if there is not the space to do the moves).
Some days, I do get tired of singing. And making up the stories. Or even listening to the stories. My music or silence in the car I sometimes long for. But then I think of video games that would get me that peace. I'll take my songs and stories.
Since this has started, when I drive my car, Pyrope and Obsidian tell me how they wish I had a magical pegasus as a car. I ask them why I can't. I've been told you can't pretend the same thing. That's not fun! So my car has become a digger, Lightnigh McQ***n, and various other things, with story lines to go along with it. At the end of each trip, I get told that it is not "really right" and that they will have to "try again to find the perfect pretend for my car". Okay, you do that. It is easier to take some days than the 8,000 times I sing the ABC song, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and 5 Little Ducks (the current favorites, but actually these songs rotate on a regular basis, so it isn't that bad. They have a large repertoire of songs, and favorites change regularly).
We were talking with someone whose son is 2 years older than Pyrope. He was saying how he can't go anywhere in the car without his son having to play on his iPh**e or some sort of hand held game. I said that both of our kids lose interest, and we wind up talking about pegasi (is that the plural of pegasus?), other such stories, or signing songs. Even on long trips, portable DVD players and video games don't entertain nearly as long. He said "They know what a pegasus is?" Um, yeah. They also like to be a cyclops around the house. And dragons. And knights. And crusaders. Please don't bring up Musketeers unless you want to see random objects turned into swords and then the moves that go with it (and pretty please don't bring it up if there is not the space to do the moves).
Some days, I do get tired of singing. And making up the stories. Or even listening to the stories. My music or silence in the car I sometimes long for. But then I think of video games that would get me that peace. I'll take my songs and stories.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Grow Up
This past weekend, my SIL and her two girls came for a long weekend (coming on Friday and leaving on Tuesday). I never look forward to the visits. I don't particularly enjoy her or her kids company. This time she managed to outdo herself.
My MIL has cancer. Stage III. It didn't respond to the first set of chemo drugs. The second set is taking its toll on her body, and has yet to show any real signs of helping with the cancer.
She is very hard to get gifts for. Very hard. She doesn't collect anything. She doesn't go out to eat. She doesn't go out much in general. She doesn't like gadgets or new things in general. She does love her grandchildren. And her children. She loves getting new pictures of her grandkids. Particularly when she gets new professional pictures of them, we hear about it for a long time.
So I thought to myself, while SIL is here, we will go and get family pictures. We being Jet, my kids, her and her kids (SIL husband was not coming, and frankly I don't think my MIL cares one way or the other about me. And it would look silly with me but not SIL husband). Jet told her the plan. The girls brought complimenting dresses. I got outfits for the boys (new ones, including shoes.... if I'm going to do something like this, I want to do it well). Once here, I bring up (again) about her being in the picture. She says she can't because she doesn't have any make-up. I offer to go and buy some. She says that would be silly. I say it would be silly to not get her picture taken for her mom. We continue to go back and forth. Her girls taking my side of the argument. Jet not commenting. SIL says to Jet at one point that she knows he really doesn't want to be in the picture so why isn't he arguing with me. He quietly observes that my reasoning for it is that their ma would love the pictures, and that there is no way he can come up with a reasonable counter argument to that. The argument continues the next morning. And at the studio. Finially, the moment comes it is now or never. I say to SIL, if your ma tells you she would really like you to do this, would you? She said yes, thinking that I had no way to do this. I pull out my cell phone and hand it to Jet to dial. He gets the evil eye from his sister. I glare. He looks at her, he looks at me. He dialed. I talk to my very confused MIL. She immediately said she would love a picture, make up or not, and kept questioning me why I would think that she would need/want SIL to have make up. I said I didn't, but to please tell SIL that she would like the picture taken. So SIL gets the phone, then begrudgingly gets in the picture. She was pouting for a lack of a better word in the pictures.
The rest of the weekend, she did things (I feel) to try to provoke or get even with me. Opening windows when the air conditioner was on. Not closing the door when she came inside/went outside (hello, air conditioning, mosquitoes!). Not showing up one night for dinner (or calling to let us know she wasn't coming). Whatever. Grow up. I refused to be provoked. I kept closing windows and doors. We waited a 1/2 hour from when we normally eat, then ate without them. Once again. Grow up.
So we drove up to visit my MIL. It is a 4 hour trip each way (well sometimes it is less, construction was heavy to put it mildly). We got there and pulled out the pictures for my MIL to choose what she wanted to keep (along with the ones I had framed). She was so excited. And confused. She didn't understand that I was talking about a professional picture. She commented that she never had a professional picture taken of the two of her kids but had always wanted one (I had planned on a picture of just the two of them, but with the torture of the one group shot, I was not up for further argument). She went around her apartment rearranging her picture several times to come up with the perfect arrangement. I'm sure it has been rearranged multiple times since then. All of her grandkids together in a professional picture (actually a couple different poses of all of them together, then each individually, then the siblings). And then the one with her kids in it as well. She then started to question me if SIL knew about this prior to her trip. I said yes. She then questioned me why SIL had not come prepared for it (meaning make up and a coordinating top, Jet choose a top to match the kids, he figured that he would be in the pictures). Or gone out and got the make up and/or top after she got here. I shrugged.
My MIL happiness over the pictures made it worth my trouble. I don't understand what made my SIL fight it. Or be so passive aggressive the rest of the trip. The pictures weren't about her. In all honesty, if she didn't like them or want to see them, then don't take any or give any out. Just give a copy to your mom. Grow up. It really was not any stretch of the imagination on my part that my MIL would love it. Why couldn't SIL just see it as a gift even if she didn't like it? Jet certainly does not enjoy taking family pictures but didn't say anything after I put out my reasoning. It gets down to: Grow up.
My MIL has cancer. Stage III. It didn't respond to the first set of chemo drugs. The second set is taking its toll on her body, and has yet to show any real signs of helping with the cancer.
She is very hard to get gifts for. Very hard. She doesn't collect anything. She doesn't go out to eat. She doesn't go out much in general. She doesn't like gadgets or new things in general. She does love her grandchildren. And her children. She loves getting new pictures of her grandkids. Particularly when she gets new professional pictures of them, we hear about it for a long time.
So I thought to myself, while SIL is here, we will go and get family pictures. We being Jet, my kids, her and her kids (SIL husband was not coming, and frankly I don't think my MIL cares one way or the other about me. And it would look silly with me but not SIL husband). Jet told her the plan. The girls brought complimenting dresses. I got outfits for the boys (new ones, including shoes.... if I'm going to do something like this, I want to do it well). Once here, I bring up (again) about her being in the picture. She says she can't because she doesn't have any make-up. I offer to go and buy some. She says that would be silly. I say it would be silly to not get her picture taken for her mom. We continue to go back and forth. Her girls taking my side of the argument. Jet not commenting. SIL says to Jet at one point that she knows he really doesn't want to be in the picture so why isn't he arguing with me. He quietly observes that my reasoning for it is that their ma would love the pictures, and that there is no way he can come up with a reasonable counter argument to that. The argument continues the next morning. And at the studio. Finially, the moment comes it is now or never. I say to SIL, if your ma tells you she would really like you to do this, would you? She said yes, thinking that I had no way to do this. I pull out my cell phone and hand it to Jet to dial. He gets the evil eye from his sister. I glare. He looks at her, he looks at me. He dialed. I talk to my very confused MIL. She immediately said she would love a picture, make up or not, and kept questioning me why I would think that she would need/want SIL to have make up. I said I didn't, but to please tell SIL that she would like the picture taken. So SIL gets the phone, then begrudgingly gets in the picture. She was pouting for a lack of a better word in the pictures.
The rest of the weekend, she did things (I feel) to try to provoke or get even with me. Opening windows when the air conditioner was on. Not closing the door when she came inside/went outside (hello, air conditioning, mosquitoes!). Not showing up one night for dinner (or calling to let us know she wasn't coming). Whatever. Grow up. I refused to be provoked. I kept closing windows and doors. We waited a 1/2 hour from when we normally eat, then ate without them. Once again. Grow up.
So we drove up to visit my MIL. It is a 4 hour trip each way (well sometimes it is less, construction was heavy to put it mildly). We got there and pulled out the pictures for my MIL to choose what she wanted to keep (along with the ones I had framed). She was so excited. And confused. She didn't understand that I was talking about a professional picture. She commented that she never had a professional picture taken of the two of her kids but had always wanted one (I had planned on a picture of just the two of them, but with the torture of the one group shot, I was not up for further argument). She went around her apartment rearranging her picture several times to come up with the perfect arrangement. I'm sure it has been rearranged multiple times since then. All of her grandkids together in a professional picture (actually a couple different poses of all of them together, then each individually, then the siblings). And then the one with her kids in it as well. She then started to question me if SIL knew about this prior to her trip. I said yes. She then questioned me why SIL had not come prepared for it (meaning make up and a coordinating top, Jet choose a top to match the kids, he figured that he would be in the pictures). Or gone out and got the make up and/or top after she got here. I shrugged.
My MIL happiness over the pictures made it worth my trouble. I don't understand what made my SIL fight it. Or be so passive aggressive the rest of the trip. The pictures weren't about her. In all honesty, if she didn't like them or want to see them, then don't take any or give any out. Just give a copy to your mom. Grow up. It really was not any stretch of the imagination on my part that my MIL would love it. Why couldn't SIL just see it as a gift even if she didn't like it? Jet certainly does not enjoy taking family pictures but didn't say anything after I put out my reasoning. It gets down to: Grow up.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Boot straps
One of the things I really like about my job is the number of people I get to meet and talk to. Not only talk to, but many share part of their life story in very personal ways that you don't typically get to hear.
Recently, I was talking with a lady as I was working with her. She was a tiny older lady (as in she can claim more years to her life than she can claim pounds on her body). My initial impression was a sweet little lady. However, there seemed to be a resolve or a toughness just beneath the surface. The conversation was mainly how she wants to get stronger (by doing therapy) so she can return to all of her activities and social events. Imperceptibly, the conversation took a turn. She started to talk about how she was not always so social. That she was frequently teased in junior high and high school and always walked with her head down and shoulders slumped with very little respect for herself. After high school she got married and had 7 kids. Never working outside of the home and pretty much just sticking to the house. Not having many friends or interacting with many people outside of her husband and kids. Then one day, her husband called during his lunch. He told her he was tired of his life and was no longer coming home, she did not see it coming. And he never did. She said that day, she wanted to walk down the middle of a road and get hit by a car, or curl up and die. She had no friends. And now she was the single mom of 7. She very shortly was going to have bills to pay, no work experience, and no job. She said that night she didn't know what she was going to do, she just wanted to die. However, for some reason she said she couldn't even verbalize all of these years later, she woke up with the determination she was going to make it. She was going to do right by her kids and show them what can be made of. She did not want to run into her husband and give him the idea that he had beat them down. Personally, if it was just her, she would have liked to curl up and die, but she said that she couldn't do that to her kids. She got a job. That at some point turned into a career that lead her to a bachelor's degree. She wanted her kids to have more of a support system than she originally had. So she started going to church more. Then other community events. She said in those early years, there were days and weeks she still did not want to live. However, she wanted to do right by her kids. So she got up and did what needed to be done. And slowly, she found herself living and loving a very extroverted social life. The days, and weeks, and years she would dress and hold herself in a manner that if she ran into her ex-husband, he would not see a broken woman that she felt she was, she somehow became that person.
The idea of raising 7 kids alone impresses me. It had to have been hard, doing the math, it had to be in the 50's or 60's this happened. The American culture was not nearly as accepting of divorce singles moms as it is today. On the days I find it hard to drag myself out of bed for whatever reason, on the days I just don't seem to have enough time to get everything done... she had to have had that with several magnifications. She got herself out of bed, and pulled up on her boot straps. And somehow got herself father than she ever imagined. And gave those of us who know her and her story a true role model to look up to. She just did it.
Recently, I was talking with a lady as I was working with her. She was a tiny older lady (as in she can claim more years to her life than she can claim pounds on her body). My initial impression was a sweet little lady. However, there seemed to be a resolve or a toughness just beneath the surface. The conversation was mainly how she wants to get stronger (by doing therapy) so she can return to all of her activities and social events. Imperceptibly, the conversation took a turn. She started to talk about how she was not always so social. That she was frequently teased in junior high and high school and always walked with her head down and shoulders slumped with very little respect for herself. After high school she got married and had 7 kids. Never working outside of the home and pretty much just sticking to the house. Not having many friends or interacting with many people outside of her husband and kids. Then one day, her husband called during his lunch. He told her he was tired of his life and was no longer coming home, she did not see it coming. And he never did. She said that day, she wanted to walk down the middle of a road and get hit by a car, or curl up and die. She had no friends. And now she was the single mom of 7. She very shortly was going to have bills to pay, no work experience, and no job. She said that night she didn't know what she was going to do, she just wanted to die. However, for some reason she said she couldn't even verbalize all of these years later, she woke up with the determination she was going to make it. She was going to do right by her kids and show them what can be made of. She did not want to run into her husband and give him the idea that he had beat them down. Personally, if it was just her, she would have liked to curl up and die, but she said that she couldn't do that to her kids. She got a job. That at some point turned into a career that lead her to a bachelor's degree. She wanted her kids to have more of a support system than she originally had. So she started going to church more. Then other community events. She said in those early years, there were days and weeks she still did not want to live. However, she wanted to do right by her kids. So she got up and did what needed to be done. And slowly, she found herself living and loving a very extroverted social life. The days, and weeks, and years she would dress and hold herself in a manner that if she ran into her ex-husband, he would not see a broken woman that she felt she was, she somehow became that person.
The idea of raising 7 kids alone impresses me. It had to have been hard, doing the math, it had to be in the 50's or 60's this happened. The American culture was not nearly as accepting of divorce singles moms as it is today. On the days I find it hard to drag myself out of bed for whatever reason, on the days I just don't seem to have enough time to get everything done... she had to have had that with several magnifications. She got herself out of bed, and pulled up on her boot straps. And somehow got herself father than she ever imagined. And gave those of us who know her and her story a true role model to look up to. She just did it.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
That's my boy
Today, Jet was getting his small fishing boat ready to take out. As I was at work, it was mainly him doing it with the boys running around (and a neighbor helping when he needed another adult's help).
The story I get when I get home is this (as combined by me, as each party told me their version of it, in of itself was amusing and a sign of each person's personality)
At one point, Jet was winching the boat back up onto its trailer (I'm a little unclear of why it was ever removed but I have long since learned to not ask too many questions). Pyrope was sitting in the boat on one of the seats. Obsidian was standing in the yard watching. As Jet was winching the boat up more and more, Pyrope was laughing in delight. Obsidian started to scream for Pyrope to get out of the boat. "Out Pyrope! Out! Pyrope! Pyrope! You too high! Pyrope not safe! Get out! Daddy stop! Not safe!" Jet continued winching trying to verbally telly Obsidian it was okay. Pyrope continuing to squeal with delight and telling Jet he wanted to do it more. Typically I am the voice of safety. I guess Obsidian is following my footsteps (earlier this week, Obsidian explained to another child that he was carrying Pyrope's lunchbox with snack in it for camp because if Pyrope was carrying it, he would lose it. Which would have been a very likely scenario. This is also a case of the Jet-Pyrope vs Ruby-Obsidian similarities.)
That is my boy.
The story I get when I get home is this (as combined by me, as each party told me their version of it, in of itself was amusing and a sign of each person's personality)
At one point, Jet was winching the boat back up onto its trailer (I'm a little unclear of why it was ever removed but I have long since learned to not ask too many questions). Pyrope was sitting in the boat on one of the seats. Obsidian was standing in the yard watching. As Jet was winching the boat up more and more, Pyrope was laughing in delight. Obsidian started to scream for Pyrope to get out of the boat. "Out Pyrope! Out! Pyrope! Pyrope! You too high! Pyrope not safe! Get out! Daddy stop! Not safe!" Jet continued winching trying to verbally telly Obsidian it was okay. Pyrope continuing to squeal with delight and telling Jet he wanted to do it more. Typically I am the voice of safety. I guess Obsidian is following my footsteps (earlier this week, Obsidian explained to another child that he was carrying Pyrope's lunchbox with snack in it for camp because if Pyrope was carrying it, he would lose it. Which would have been a very likely scenario. This is also a case of the Jet-Pyrope vs Ruby-Obsidian similarities.)
That is my boy.
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