Thursday, October 27, 2011

Feeling sorry for myself , being a mom, wife, daughter is hard.

Tonight as I write this post I am feeling very sorry for myself. I am in hoo.  I think its because I am over tired.

I should have retitled this M is not for MOTHER, M is for Martyr because that's how I will come across.

I often feel it would be so much easier to be a man. They don't have the same amount of work as women do. Often their jobs end at the end of their work day and everyone knows a mothers work is never done.
This month I have been helping my mom pack up and move into a seniors apartment. If you have seen a seniors apartment they are very tiny , so we have not only been packing but downsizing and getting rid of things and it is very difficult.

I am the only girl in the family so of course the work falls on me, it doesn't help that I have siblings who live out of town either. I am blessed that two of my sister in laws helped as often as they could and I appreciate it so much. I never would have done it without their help.

 Everyday this month  I have been going to my moms as soon as I get kids to school and  put in a full day there, come home, make supper, do homework, run the kids to lessons, do my laundry and house work, make lunches, sign notes for school and appointments as well as teach a bible study once a week  etc.

This week I am unpacking my mom, cleaning her old place, trying to get kids Halloween costumes ready, parent teacher interviews, social workers and meetings and dental appointments and a child's  birthday next week so will need to buy a present and plan something.

Although the REV helps, he doesn't ever do the costumes the interviews, the meetings, the gift buying or appointments.He helped move the items from the apartment, but then his job is over. all the men come move items and go home. that's the end of their helping. The women were there helping move boxes too.

I have month end to do and receipts which again is my job, admin stuff falls on me for the fostering .

I have also been sick and had sick kids so juggling everything on top of it all.

It doesn't seem fair to me. Why do women get all the work? Why doesn't the day end? People say to me , take time for yourself.Okay I will! But  then who will cook, or clean or do laundry??? who looks after the kids when they are sick? who is making the lunches and helping with the homework? who is buying the birthday gifts?

The Rev is planning a hunting trip for next week. Not one thought as to how things will work out for us. Guys can just take off and the home still works and goes on. It's difficult for women to just take off. AGAIN not fair.

Currently I don't see an end in sight because Christmas is approaching quickly and the gift buying is up to me to do. the baking , the cards and everything else Christmas job.

tomorrow things will look a little brighter. I know I live a very busy life and normally I go minute by minute. I get overwhelmed when I look at everything I have to do and wonder how I will get it all done. I always do get it done, but for tonight I  have to sit back and cry and feel sorry for myself . And wonder why my job doesn't end.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

A HUGE about the lies and now the TRUTH is REVEALED

This may come as a shock to you, but it is honest Thursday and I am going to tell you something very honest and possibly shocking. In fact I had to call my daughter Christine and reveal to her what I am going to tell you. I didn't want her to read it here on my blog.
Are you sitting? Well of course you are because you are at the computer. Okay Deep breath, its confession time.....

I have a weight problem.

 Well actually it’s not as much of a problem now as it used to be. Let me explain.
Growing up I always felt I was fat. I think teen girls often struggle with image and weight issues and I was no different. I was the type of girl with big boobs, small waist and big bum. The hour glass figure. I was bigger than some girls smaller than others. Looking back I think I was ok. I was active and healthy. Weighing 135-140 and being 5’6”.

After I  had my daughter Christine I wanted to lose that extra baby weight and became obsessed with my body image. The more weight I lost the more weight I wanted to lose. Everyone said 125 is the best weight. It’s kind of like the “blondes have more fun” rule. Weighing 125 will bring me happiness and joy and I will feel amazing.

I reached 125 and you know what? I wasn't any happier I wasn't anymore joyful. Bring in baby number two and then trying to get back to 125 after having him. Started becoming obsessive. Exercising all the time and became anorexic. Reached 120 lbs......hmmm I am not happier, still not feeling what I thought I was supposed to feel. Eat less exercise more 115lbs.....okay I am a bit happier but I know I will be happier at 110.

 Didn’t make it to 110. I was CLOSE 112.....but then I had a bit of a health scare and it was the same time Karen Carpenter died of Anorexia in 1983 and I decided that death will certainly not make me happier.
Still struggled with weight and self-esteem issues but decided i could no longer be anorexic . FAST FORWARD TO 1990
In 1990 I became a "spiritual person" or a Christian. That is when I accepted Christ into my life. I joke that when I invited HIM into my heart that I gained the 100 plus pounds....that’s because I have CHRIST IN ME.  He has to weigh 100 lbs. easy LOL

I look back and know that my self-worth and identity was all based on lies and what the world says you are suppose to have and what you are suppose to be and how you are supposed to look.  It was not accurate. In fact it is a LIE!

I was not happy on the inside. I had a poor self-esteem and just believed all those lies about what makes a person happy. I strived for wealth and material things and upon reaching some of those things still did not find the peace I needed in my life. But it started to change in 1990.In walks the TRUTH out go the lies.
I love who I am today.  If I was honest I would still like to weigh less. A lot less.  I feel my body betrays me. It is not indicative of how often I exercise or how I try to eat healthier. BUT I still like who I am today 100lbs better I mean a 100 % better than I did way back when. I am confident. I know who I am. I know my identity is not how much I weigh or what I have, or what I do. But it is in WHO I AM in GODS eyes. He created me perfect and in His image. He doesn’t want me to be anyone other than who He created me to be.
Of course He wants me to not abuse this body He has given me and so I continue to try and keep my body healthy by doing the right things.
I am not perfect I still struggle as you have seen in previous blogs, and will continue to see, but I am moving forward. Doing the best that I can with what I was given. That’s all I can do.
I still believe that I need to be perfect in some areas but I am a work in progress. Growing, and letting go of what the world wants for me and embracing what God asks of me.
Here are pictures from back journey to happiness via the scale

Me and my BROS

The Rev, Christine (2) moi, and Ryan (3 months)

Christine (3) and me, on my way to my goal of happiness via the scale

notice the clavicles. Thats the look I was going for...almost I was telling my sister in law that when I was at this weight in this picture her and I had the same jeans. I would NOT wear my jeans to my moms if I thought she might be there BECAUSE I would look TOOOOO fat. I cropped her out of this pic because she hated the picture of her.  when we were looking at the picture I am only TALLER than her not much heavier. Pound wise I know I was heavier cause she is very petite. But in my eyes I saw myself as this behemoth and she was this petite thing. Funny how you view yourself. How I saw myself then and what I actually see today are SO different.

 THIS is the truth....

Thursday, October 13, 2011

The hardest thing I have done

I wrote this blog awhile ago and then lost it somewhere in cyberworld. I thought it was God's way of telling me it wasn't time to share. But once again I feel it is. I think this time I am a little more gentle though , as I am not in the middle of frustrations
As I share this,  my point is not for you to  judge me, but to understand not only me but maybe others who are in this situation. Not everyone will feel the same way as I do about it, but I can guarantee all who are dealing with what I am going to share, have struggled in one way or another.

As most of you know we adopted a child with Fetal Alcohol Spectrum disorder  (FASD). This is a term most people have heard by now, but are unaware of  how it affects a child. It is one of the leading reasons for mental retardation in Canada. I am not going to use this platform to share my views on drinking while pregnant or even educate you about it. I am just sharing from a personal point of view. Even as a foster parent I didn't really know what it was, I was educated about it, but until you are living it, you have no idea. And each situation looks different. Each child has different issues. Some are high functioning, others are not. We are the latter.

I always thought that I would never be able to deal with a special needs child. Obviously God thought different.  This is probably the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. It has brought out the ugliest side of me at some points, but has also made me grow as a person, as a mom. Not as fast as i would like and more often I see only the ugly side.
It is something that I often think "what did I get myself into?" and "when will this ever end"? sadly it won't end. There is no cure for FASD. There is no cure for brain damage.
I find it so hard to separate the child from the FAS. when she does things I can't sit back and say , oh thats because she has FAS and can't think of cause and effect, or consequences.
It would be easier if my child was in a wheelchair. I dont' mean life would be easier , I just mean that I think i could see the disability and would be able to seperate them easier.
Even for the community it is difficult for them to see that my daughter as disabled. Even when I try to explain it, they dont' understand. It sometimes gets boiled down to "parenting skills or lack there of" .
people will say "well just tell her that she can't do (insert behaviour here)"
I can tell her until I am blue in the face, it won't change anything.
I often feel I was forced into adopting her and wonder what life would be like if I didnt' adopt her. (here is where you are not allowed to judge me) The government told us either adopt her or we will find someone who will. We loved her so much and didnt' want to lose her, but wanted to just give her a forever home without adopting her. I sometimes look back and wish I would have called their bluff, but I was too young as a foster parent . i also know that it would not have been in the childs best interest either. I think she would be bumped from home to home and would have only made it even more difficult for her.
The pressures of raising a special needs child has caused a lot of strain on our marriage and our family life. We had hoped at this point in our life that  we would have more freedom.
Instead we have a child who is almost a teen but functions as a toddler. She has had two year old behaviours for 11 years now. The only difference is she is in a 12 year old body so can get into more things.
We committed to her for life but when you make that decision with kids you plan on them moving out and living independantly. That will not be an option for her. She will never live independantly. I know that there are group homes that we can put her in when she is an adult, but I am sure it is not as easy as that.

Bill and I had to do a stress test and I said after I completed it, that one of the questions should be "do you have a special needs child"?
This is not something you get used to. At least I don't. I get more and more frustrated and tired as the years go on.

I often wonder what I would tell someone who wanted to adopt an FASD child. As i mentioned each situation is different and you don't always know what the future will bring when dealing with FAS. I wonder what choice I would have made if I could peek into the future. Maybe its a good thing that I didn't have that glimpse into the future. its like the song from Garth Brooks says

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd have had to miss the dance

The dance is this home is often like a mosh pit but we are working on it becoming a smooth waltz.