The fact is, I only have so much emotional energy.

It takes emotional energy to continue trying to improve my writing, to continue to seek publication in the face of repeated rejection.  To say, "No, they're wrong," even though "they" are the experts and power-holders who could grant me entry into that world I so long to join, the realm of published authors; "No, they're wrong, and I'm just going to find someone else who is right," meaning, of course, some other pub that will give my work public play. 

It takes emotional energy to deal with my temperamental genius son, who states with a straight face (and I can only believe him, the evidence supports it), "I like fighting and arguing, it's fun."  It takes a great deal of emotional energy and creativity to find ways to motivate this stubborn mule, this freakishly annoying child, to adopt behaviors that will help him avoid making enemies everywhere he goes, especially when what works on him one week loses its effectiveness the following week.  It takes vast reservoirs of emotional energy to feel the eyes of shop workers and other parents boring into my back and know they are thinking, "Get control of your kid," or "What a brat!" or "If my child ever acted that way, I'd do something about it," and say, "No, they're wrong, I AM a good mother, I'm doing the best I can and it could be a lot worse, and some of the things you wish I would try I HAVE tried and they only make him dig in his heels harder."

It takes emotional energy to send out resume after resume, to call back and wiggle my toe in the door, to attend interviews, to sell myself and my skills (when salesmanship has never been one of my strengths), and then to get the form letter rejection or no answer at all which must be interpreted as rejection after a certain length of time has passed; and to say, "No, they're wrong, they're missing out on a dedicated and talented employee and it's their loss.  No, they're wrong and if they can't see that, then I wouldn't want to work for them anyway.  And I'm just going to find someone else who is right," meaning, of course, someone who WILL hire me. 

It takes a great deal of emotional energy to meet all the world's NOs time after time after time, with a great big fat NO of my own:  "NO, YOU'RE WRONG.  You're wrong about me, my skills, my creations, my child -- you're ALL WRONG and I will PROVE I'm right!" 

And after shouting all of THESE NOs back at the world, I find I am out of the emotional energy that would be necessary to say, "No, I'm not going to eat that; no, I'm not hungry and even if I were, hunger is a good thing right now." 

This summer, ever since about April, has been filled with all kinds of NO; and it has not been a good summer for my weight-loss goals. Not only am I not moving forward, I'm backsliding.  All I can do right now is damage control, on the weight-loss front. 

But I have a great need right now to feel like a success at SOMETHING; so maybe if I can just scrape up enough emotional energy to get back on that weight-loss wagon--that thing which is wholly under my own control, and does not depend in the slightest degree on the efforts or responses or judgments of others--then success there would help me refill my emotional reservoir enough to help with the other things, too.

So on that note, I am going to turn off my computer, go on a long walk that will end up at the local Rec Center, and then swim laps until I can't move my arms anymore.     

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Fun weekend at Grandma's (mine; the kids's great-).  Kids sunburned (only a little); waterlogged.  Slept well last night.

Cheers!

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Here's what he said recently when he began to overhear Mommy and Daddy talking about Mommy looking for a job:

Eldest Son:  "But you already have a job!"

Me:  "Not really, hon."

Daddy:  "She stays at home all day with you guys."

Me:  "--Not a paying job."

Eldest Son:  "But you're an AUTHOR!"

***

Awwww!  What a vote of confidence!  Gems like that are what really get me thru the challenging times with this kid.

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Feeling some better.  Didn't break out in hives at Littlest Brother's swimming lesson today, so that weird skin-sensitivity thing seems to have gone away.  Pretty much just dealing with stuffed-up head and a cough, which seem to be minutely better from one day to the next, so not really impacting my life any. 

L.B. got the stomach-fever-gas thing, but he's better now too, and nobody else got that.  Yay.

Eldest Son's Recent Accomplishments:

(Just to show you it's not all challenge and no reward...)

- Piano Recital a week and a day ago (the day of the night I got sick, so didn't blog about it)

- Had a piece of artwork chosen for the all-school-district art show that was held this past weekend over at the High School.  (He had a piece chosen last year during kindergarten, too.  There are things chosen from maybe 5 or so kids in each classroom at the elementary grades.)  We all piled into the car and went to see that on Friday night, which was a big hit.  Big Daddy got a cute Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man in front of his work, which I will post one of these days once I get the camera downloaded.  The kids all really dug the quite-impressive works of the high-school art students, too.

- Is doing well at swimming lessons.  Learning to dive into the deep end!  "12 feet 3 inches deep," as he explained with precision later.

- Provided this completely adorable Mother's Day book which had me yelping in laughter as I read it.  This book was where the children were provided with fill-in-the-blank sentences which they could complete as appropriate for their own mother, plus space where they could illustrate said fact. 

My personal favorite was the page where Eldest Son had written,

My mother is very good at staying calm." 

The little stick-figure-me above was smiling, and a speak-bubble impaling her head contained these enigmatic glyphs: "Huuuu.  Huuuu." 

"What am I saying here, honey?" 

"Oh, that.  You're taking deep breaths."

*giggle*

Well, I guess I OUGHTA be; goodness knows I get enough opportunities to practice!!!

;-)

Happy Belated Mother's Day to everyone to whom that applies!

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What they hey, all KINDS of other Voxers are doing "Things on Tuesday," so I guess I will too.

Things I'm Loathing Today:

- Having eaten chocolates after lunch

- Having failed, ONCE AGAIN, to tidy up the house before my cleaning lady comes tomorrow  (She does the cleaning -- vacuuming, mopping, and so on; I'm supposed to do the tidying that makes it possible for her to do her work...)

- Watching my poor little tykes get their shots at their check-ups today

- Having to communicate the decision I've come to -- can't really put it off much longer

- Water waste, agricultural run-off, invasive species, and loss of biodiversity (hey, it's Earth Day after all)

Things I'm Loving Today:

- Eldest Son, Precious Princess, and Littlest Brother

- Oh, Dear Husband too!   :-)

- Having come to a decision

- Having tested a hypothesis regarding Eldest Son's behavioral "issues" (and deciding I was RIGHT)

- Feeling not judged, but supported, by Eldest Son's teacher and school social worker at today's meeting

- Looking forward to tomorrow's first meeting with the psychologist -- in the sense of at last maybe here is someone who can help us all (hoping this is not setting myself up for a big crashing disappointment like last year's counselor was) 

- Learning that my little tykes are about as healthy as horses -- no worries there; no surprises either

- Having access to vaccinations for my kids

- Watching Disney's "Beauty and the Beast" with Precious Princess for the first time, this afternoon (I'd seen it before, when it first came out; she hadn't ever, before today)

- Aerobics Boot Camp

- Sloppy Joes for dinner

- Dear Husband taking the kids out for ice cream, so I got to eat my dinner AND take a shower in peace!  Heaven!

- Looking forward to this weekend's Women's Retreat for my church.

*****

Cheers, all!

- C

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I adore the music of Sara Groves. 

I don't generally care much for Christian rock -- I hear so much more divinity in traditional choral music -- but I can never get enough of Sara Groves.  Her music is richly haunting, and her lyrics deceptively simple, many-layered.  She so richly expresses things I need to hear; and almost every song of hers makes me think.  Hard.

Tuesday afternoon I was thinking of this song from her "All Right Here" album:

All Right Here

"You Cannot Lose My Love"

You will lose your baby teeth

At times you'll lose your faith in me

You will lose a lot of things

But you cannot lose my love

You may lose your appetite

Your guiding sense of wrong and right

You may lose your will to fight

But you cannot lose my love

You will lose your confidence

In times of trial your common sense

You may lose your innocence

But you cannot lose my love

Many things can be misplaced

Your very memories be erased

No matter what the time or space

You cannot lose my love

You cannot lose

You cannot lose

You cannot lose my love

***

That last stanza made me cry the first time I heard it.  My husband's grandmother had died not long before, after a long period of progressively worsening dementia.  My own grandfather was dying, and following a similar course.  It was very hard for me to watch the diminishment of these beloved people, especially as my own small children were doing the exact opposite.  Every day my son became a tiny bit more capable, and every day my grandfather became a tiny bit less.

Dementia is sort of horrifying and terrifying to witness.  After all, what am I -- the "I" that thinks these things -- if not a being capable of rational thought?  What am I if not my own unique collection of memories and experiences?  And if those memories disappear, if my intellect disappears, what will be left of me?  I know dementia is not catching, and yet, I have always found it extremely disquieting, if only because it is a reminder of our own fragility and impermanence.   

Then I heard this song. 

When it came to the part about how, "Your very memories be erased, but you cannot lose my love" this expressed so strongly to me how the essential person-hood -- the soul -- of my grandfather was separate from his intellect and his rapidly vanishing memories, and how there was still something precious there.  Something God loved. Something I could love.  And I cried, hearing it; but it was a good kind of cry. 

In a smaller way, at various times, I have lost many of the other things mentioned in this song -- lost and in some cases, regained.  So I find this song comforting, as a reminder of the one thing, of all things, that I cannot lose.

***

Tuesday afternoon this song came to me in a new way. 

(This was why that vote of confidence from Precious Princess later in the evening was doubly precious.)

Had a difficult phone call from Eldest Son's principal.  Heart sinking, feeling defeated, not knowing what to do or how to approach the kid, how to solve this particular problem and how to steer him away from repeating it.

Unlike me, I prayed.  I do not have a strong instinct to pray -- wasn't raised with it -- and it is not usually my first reaction when things get tough.  But this time, rather than let my mind race about like a frantic hamster on a wheel, getting nowhere except exhausted, I decided to pray. 

Song lyrics came into my head, together with their melodies.

First came, "Love one another, love one another, love one another... as I have loved you."

Then came the song above, the Sara Groves song. 

This time I knew that it was not only a comforting reminder to me, but a directive as well. 

I had to find a way to reach my son, to impress upon him the seriousness of the incident, to help him think of a way to make amends, to help him decide for himself that it was wrong and he shouldn't do it again, help him take ownership of his misbehavior...  and yet, and yet, avoid making him feel bereft of my love.

Make him feel that no matter what else he loses -- in this case, his temper and his impulse control -- he cannot lose my love.

Ranting and raving was going to do more harm than good. 

He's a stubborn mule, that kid; the harder you pull, the harder he digs in his heels.

I needed to not give him a reason to dig in his heels on this.

I think I managed it.   By the time everyone went to bed, I was pretty sure he had taken ownership of the problem, taken it seriously, taken a step toward making amends...  and still believed I loved him.

No matter what the time or space, he cannot lose my love.

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Yesterday evening -- Littlest Brother, just waking up from a nap, woke up cranky and couldn't stop crying.  Sometimes he wakes up hard and there's nothing really wrong with him, you just have to wait for him to stop crying -- it can be a long wait at times. 

I came back from aerobics and was trying to eat my dinner.  He was sitting at the table beside me and chewing his dinner and crying. 

Precious Princess came up and hugged him and tried to make him happier.  Didn't work, but she tried.

I said, "Thanks for trying, hon.  You're such a good big sister!"

She said, "Yeah, I am.  -- I'm your sidekick."

I laughed.  "Yeah, you are my sidekick -- a good one!"

She said, "So I'm your sidekick, and you're SuperMom!"

:-)

Nice to get a vote of confidence, and I needed one yesterday.

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- B.J., a little boy answering his mother's question of "How was Sunday Celebration today, hon?" after Dear Husband and I were in charge of said event.

Newsflash -- Boys And Girls Are Different. 

No, really -- it's true.

I gained this blinding insight on Sunday during a fun volunteering opportunity.

See, in addition to regular Sunday School for the kids (between services), our church also offers "Sunday Celebration" for kids age 4 through 2nd Grade, during Big People Church.  That way they only have to sit through maybe 10 or 15 minutes of Big People Church and then they are dismissed to go have a Bible story and craft time downstairs.

Our Director of Children's Ministries (wonderful woman, by the way) decided earlier this year that Sunday Cel during 2nd Service was getting crowded, and that the parents of kids who regularly attended during 2nd service would need to step up and help out.  Fair enough.  So along with the other parents, Big Daddy (aka Dear Husband) and I were "volunteered" for duty; our tour was this past Sunday.

Now, in 2nd Service Sunday Cel, mind you, the kids have been required to more-or-less sit still and behave and go along with the program already for a solid hour of Sunday School, and then 15 minutes of Big People Church, and now are expected to do more of the same.

Guess what?  -- Doesn't work out so well. 

It was like trying to tame a cage-full of hyperactive squirrels who'd gotten into the coffee.

Of course, our own Eldest Son is among the worst offenders, but running a close second are the sons of the Senior Pastor (P.K.'s if there ever were any -- with a vengeance!).

Before Big Daddy began reading the story (he was the one who had prepared), I tried to get them to jump out their jiggles with a sort of follow-my-lead stand-up-and-move time.  We pretended to be trees blowing in the wind, frogs hopping, bugs crawling, and finally a seed growing into a flower.  I thought the last one would be a nice quiet-down transition sort of activity.

Still pretty squirrelly.  Had to haul Eldest Son out of the room into the hall until he could promise to behave.  Meanwhile the Senior Pastor's middle kid and little B.J. were egging each other on.  I schlepped back into the room and separated them. 

FINALLY the story was over, and it was time for the crafts. 

It was a little spinner where you flicked a paper-clip, and it would land on one of several possible ways to show kindness toward others.  The kids were supposed to color in the pictures, then line up for Big Daddy to complete the brad-and-paper-clip construction.

The girls (including Precious Princess) all colored diligently, trying their best to stay within the lines.  One little girl was anxious about making the little picture people's skin colors accurate, and finally achieved this by coloring a mixture of tan, yellow, and pink.   The little picture of an African-American person got a nice brown shade. 

The boys, meanwhile, decided to draw tornadoes.  They all randomly grabbed pencils, crayons, markers, and scribbled furious circles all over their papers.  No attempt whatsoever to color the little pictures.  Then they decided to see if the circular papers would fly like frisbees. 

I stood up and went, "CLAP, CLAP, CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!" 

Eldest Son's Kindergarten and First Grade teachers do this all the time to get the kids' attention; the children are required to stop what they are doing and clap the rhythm back, then be quiet and listen to what the teacher wants to say.  I hoped this practice was widespread enough that they would be conditioned to the required response by now -- not all the kids in our church are in the same school system as Eldest Son.

I had to do it twice, but they did respond and quiet down for half a sec.  A Sunday miracle.

I announced in a loud stern voice, "Any spinners that I see thrown will become MINE, until your parents come to get you."

After that, the frisbee-throwing was kept to a minimum, although I did have to confiscate two of them.

STILL squirrelly.

The boys -- all of them -- had leaped up from the coloring tables by this point and were variously shouting, jumping, and wrassling each other on the floor.  Eldest Son began grabbing foam bricks off the shelf and throwing them at the wrestlers.  The girls -- all of them -- were still coloring diligently.

I could see we needed more movement time, and in a structured way.  So I CLAP, CLAP, CLAP-CLAP-CLAPped again and announced in my Big Stern Voice, "We are going to play Follow-The-Leader!  Anyone who doesn't want to play, needs to SIT STILL!  I will be the first leader, then you'll take turns.  Line up behind me!"

They more or less did, giggling and pushing.  Another Sunday miracle.

We went all around the room, being birds with flapping wings, airplanes with stiff wings, a high-stepping marching band, a chugga-chugga-choo-choo, leaping kangaroos, and big-stepping giants. 

Then the kids clamored to be the leader.  I closed my eyes and pointed randomly.  The boy so chosen stood still long enough for the other boys to line up behind him, then announced that for HIS first leadership role, they would be race cars.  ZOOM! 

ANNND They're OFF!

Running around in circles as fast as they could.  Giggling.

Eldest Son demanded a turn as leader.  He TOO announced they would be race cars.

ZOOM!

Then Eldest Son decided to start being Chick Hicks and crashing into other cars, whereupon I announced in my Big Stern Voice that "Anybody being Chick Hicks will get a time out!"  Nobody wanted to be Chick Hicks any more.

So at that point, Big Daddy went and stood in the middle of the circle of racing boys.  And grinned. 

Whenever they looked like stopping, Big Daddy would say, "Hey, you're not tired yet, are you?  Keep going!" 

They kept it up for a solid 35 minutes -- service went long.

It would have been the perfect day to take them out onto our beloved play structure, but it is still snowy here and they were all in their dress-up clothes (sniff!).  Summer, summer, where art thou???

Every once in a while, a girl would get up and join them for a bit (usually Precious Princess -- she's used to boys, after all -- and sometimes L.K. and sometimes J.K.), but then sit down again after a while.  The girls seemed to think of new finishing touches they could add to their artwork, and they'd go back to coloring.

For the most part, it was the boys doing the ZOOMing and the girls doing the coloring.

And THAT's when I realized that Boys And Girls Really Are Different.

Thus B.J.'s remark to his mother afterward.  "We ran around in circles as fast as we could!  It was GREAT!"

Not sure that was what the Director of Children's Ministries had intended for Sunday Cel.  But it was what they needed. 

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Thus spake Littlest Brother the other day.

"No, I'm NOT cute!  I don't wanna be cute!"

"Oh, well, what are you, then?"

"I wanna be pwecious."

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And speaking of Eldest Son (see previous post), as a matter of fact, that challenging morning was an exception to recent trends.

We did have that challenging morning last week, but on the whole, we've been seeing improvement in his behavior and attitude of late.

Here's what crystallized my awareness of that. 

Back in December, I had a little chat with one of his specials teachers, who had been having "issues" with him.  So then I had a little chat with him, about expectations of behavior toward this and all teachers.  So then earlier this week I called her up, just to see how things were going.  And this is what she said.

"The last couple of weeks have been really great.  I didn't see any improvement right away after we talked before, but the past few weeks he's been doing fine."

That's when I realized that had been pretty much true at home too.  So I hung up the phone and began wracking my brains to figure out what the heck had changed within the past two or three weeks that would account for this improvement.

And what I figured out really made me feel humbled as a mother (and as a person generally).

Here's what changed three weeks ago: 

I did.

It's Lent, and for Lent I've given up:  Coffee, booze, sweets, and novels.  Also I've been doing better about getting regular exercise, even though that wasn't a specific Lent promise.

Coffee, booze, and novels = A+.  Have not indulged.  Now I haven't done quite as well at sweets as I have at the others.  But I have been doing much better on sweets than I was before Lent.  I haven't eaten any cake or cookies or pie or anything like that.  I have been eating Valentines Nerds here and there, but really they come in such tiny boxes and suger per se, by itself, is not so bad calorie-wise, than if it were combined with flour and egg and butter. 

So. 

Because I know I can't rely on coffee to get me jumpstarted in the morning, guess what?  I've been going to bed earlier, and getting between 7 and 8 hours of sleep every night.  And I also haven't had any headaches during this time. 

Because I'm not sucking down novels in two- and three-hundred-page gulps, that has helped me get more of my own writing (and editing) done and has also helped me on the going-to-bed-on-time front.

Because I'm not sucking down sugar (much), I'm not getting the sugar-high/sugar-crash effect on my mood and energy.

Because I'm getting more exercise, that's also levelling out my mood and energy.

Since I normally don't drink wine until the kids have gone to bed, and normally not more than two glasses at one sitting, I'm not sure what impact that absence may have had, except as the byproducts of alcohol metabolism remain in your system for a day or two doing I don't even know what to my mood.

So. 

I mostly did this for my own benefit -- for the hoped-for spiritual benefit of sacrificing things I enjoy during Lent, and incidentally, doing a sort of mini-detox for physical benefit as well.  (Inspired by One Feisty Mama's detox efforts pre-Christmas.) 

I did not expect and had not noticed any difference in my own behavior due to these efforts. 

But there must have been some. 

This is my logic chain:  More sleep + More exercise ==> More patience ==> Less control-freakery and yelling on my part ==> Saner Eldest Son.

Because nothing else has changed.

It's still snowy & cold & often grey.  He still doesn't get outside as often as he should to run off his energy, as a result.  He still goes to the same school.  Everything else is the same.

Welp, humble pie is not sweet, so I guess that's okay for Lent.

No, I'm not totally guilt-tripping here and it's not my Seasonal Affective Disorder talking.  It's just making me think. 

About what I should do when Lent is over.     

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