SAY WHAT?

"What we've got here is failure to communicate. Some men you just can't reach..."

-Cool Hand Luke 

I live with three men... 

So we, at times, have a failure to communicate. There are attempts at communication, we grunt, we vocalize each and every thought with sarcastic excellence, we look at each other with eyes so wide that eyeballs could hit the floor.  Yet, still a failure to communicate. 
How do I improve my family's ability to communicate WITHOUT yelling so loud I am communicating with the neighbors?  
Well... 
I think I will start with an equation I often quote to my children..."God gave you two ears and one mouth, so you need to listen twice as much as you talk."  I am not very good at walking the walk on this one. Those who know me, know I am a bit of a controller.  I prefer controller, over control freak...it just sounds better. So the idea of letting one of my guys, particularly the smaller ones, take the time to finish a thought before I address the issue and move on just seems like an inefficient use of precious time. 
Hmmm... maybe step two is slowing down.
If my time is so precious I feel I have to rush through conversations with my children and husband in order to move on to something else, maybe we don't have a failure to communicate maybe I have a scheduling issue. I think this relates back to to the controller mind set. It is just easier to do everything myself, so just shut up, move and let me do it. EEK, that sounds awful...awfully accurate....
Oy... So, some of the failure in communication seems to be related to my need to control the situation and move on to the next task. However, the main issue I see in our small but mighty family has yet to come to light. 
TONE... OH the TONE!
If you have watched even one minute of The Voice on NBC you have probably heard the phrase, "It was a bit pitchy" or in layman's terms it was off key or out of tune. If we were a family singing group I think we would be termed pitchy. I know we would definitely be pitchy in song because I can't carry a tune in a bucket, but more importantly we tend to be pitchy in  how we communicate with each other. 
For example, when EJ looks me dead in the eye, in all of his 45lb glory, and throws a 200lb attitude at me you have to wonder where he learned such a talent. Or when LJ, who is old enough to know better, tells SJ to, "Go Get Me XYZ" without so much as please or a glance in his father's general direction, I have to wonder if we, the leaders of this household, are leading by example? As adults, outside the home, SJ and I have to communicate with prospects, clients and the general public in a non-pitchy, over-explanatory manner which can not be rushed because clarity is crucial. What happens to this talent when we walk in the door at home? Do we turn into grunting, bossy balls of attitude that demand understanding without explanation? Well, apparently yes, YES we do... and this is obvious by how our children communicate with us. OOPS!  

So where do we go from here? Well, that is the fun thing... ANYWHERE WE WANT TO! We are a family of smart alecks who tend to be hurried and pitchy but we love each other and we are learning to communicate S-L-O-W-L-Y but surely. We have nowhere to go but up. We can learn from the knowledge that none of us like to be bossed around, yelled at or grunted at and most importantly our TONE sets the tone of the communication. If I want my children to calmly and clearly communicate their needs and wants with me then I must do the same with them. When I master this ability, they will too.  So if there is a failure to communicate maybe I don't need to look at what is being said but rather HOW it is being said!

EmJ 

You better Run...

I have an issue.
How after a close to a year of working perfectly does a medication just stop? How can something formulated to do the same task day in, day out just wake up one morning and say, "Today I am done."
GRRRRR.....
10 months, TEN FREAKING MONTHS of consistent behavior came to a screeching halt in August. At first we thought we were imagining it, SJ and I would just look at each other with the look of 'did you see/hear that?' Next the looks turned to, 'Oh my god where did that come from?' Then came the screaming and gnashing of teeth.... And then slowly we began to realize, "OH Hell, here we go again."

It started small, a back talk here, an impulsive reaction there, an inability to stop talking in school. Then it progressed to SJ and I trailing him everywhere he went to make sure that he was behaving appropriately. The calls to his new teacher increased and new plans were formulated, none of which seemed to help. Sentences were written, and written and written again.

I will be respectful.
I will not talk in class.
I will keep my hands to myself and be kind to my friends.
I will be obedient and respectful to my parents and teachers.
I will be respectful.
I will not talk in class.

I will keep my hands to myself and be kind to my friends.

I will be obedient and respectful to my parents and teachers. 

I will be respectful.

I will not talk in class.

I will keep my hands to myself and be kind to my friends.

I will be obedient and respectful to my parents and teachers. 

Some nights 50+ sentences did nothing to change the struggles occurring day in and day out...NOTHING (those of with children ask them to write 50 sentences and see what happens) Tears, screams and frustration occurred but in the end we were all just tired, tear streaked, and frustrated. Only to repeat the exhausting process again the next day. 

One night I was particularly exhausted and crying to a friend when she said, "Emily do you think he can control it? I mean if I told Ladybug she would be writing 50 sentences if she got in trouble, she would be an angel. They are 8, 50 sentences is the equivalent of a life sentence." 

I called the doctor the next day....

It amazed me that in ten short months I fell right back into the helpless routine. 'I can't fix it.. We are doing the same thing we have been doing and it isn't working...' 

DUH... Then make a change. 

How quickly we forget the struggles of the past when things are going well...Thanks friend for pointing out the obvious when I was so oblivious.

So here we go again.

Medication adjustments, controlled environments and constantly trying to figure out what will work best. No Television Monday through Friday, LOTS of exercise and coping skills for all.

ADHD sucks... but it will not define my son, We will redefine it and by God (literally) we will not only survive it we will thrive throughout it. 

I saw this image on Facebook the other day and I love the message. It gives a new spin to the old saying:

'That which doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.' 

This will not kill us. We will be stronger. ADHD better run.

EmJ

Fred...

The LORD is my shepherd,
I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
He restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.
Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.

Psalm 23

I am so troubled lately. I am saddened by the pain I see all around me and I am defeated by the fact I can do nothing to ease the fracturing hearts I see in my world. I know the older I get the more reality I am exposed to because I'm no longer the one being protected, but now, I am the protector. The last few months have been a crash course in this role and I'm truly saddened by the way my heart is coping. In an effort to protect myself and be able to support those in need, I fear I have become callous. This callousness is not physical, nor do I feel that it is reflected in how I function around people but, rather the callous has built up on my heart and dulls the aching. I am certain that without the callous, let's call it Fred, I would have crumbled to bits weeks ago. So, Fred has his place. The part I am struggling with is, I don't like not being able to experience each and every emotion that comes with each and every situation. Fred has made it nearly impossible to cry in situations that would normally make me weep. It has steeled/stilled me against the heart-wrenching thoughts that pour into my psyche and has made me feel almost mechanical in dealing with things that are incredibly painful and require emotion.

This sucks.

I am an emotional person. I am not afraid of crying, nor am I afraid of dealing with the possibilities that this life brings BUT I don't like the numbness that I currently feel.

Perhaps I need to be grateful, God has given me this protection and have Faith that this is what I need so I can be the influence he desires. If this is the case then I pray, in earnest, that God's grace will be sufficient to cover me. He know I have never been good at accepting what I did not want.

The Plans of my Lord and Savior are Mighty and WAY out of my league, so who am I to question what I don't understand.

I just pray for the ability to be what he wants me to be, not what I want to be, for each of those beautiful, wonderful people who are coping with their new realities.

One thing I have asked from the Lord, that I shall seek:

That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,

To behold the beauty of the LordAnd to meditate in His temple.

For in the day of trouble He will conceal me in His tabernacle;

In the secret place of His tent He will hide me;

He will lift me up on a rock.

And now my head will be lifted up above my enemies around me,

And I will offer in His tent sacrifices with shouts of joy;

I will sing, yes, I will sing praises to the Lord.

Psalm 27:4-6

EmJ

Perseverance...

Perseverance: Continuing in a course of action without regard to discouragement, opposition or previous failure.

Walking the Walk

3,794,928 people will turn 60 this year, of that 3.8 million only an incredibly small portion will also graduate from College... My Mom, Pat, will be one of the few that fall in both categories. Now this isn't the first college degree she has attained. The first was received in 1977. But to fully appreciate the dedication it required to get both of these degrees we have to start in 1975.
In 1975 Mom was pregnant with my bother, I mean Brother, (who I shall refer to as Dork) when she decided to apply to the inaugural class of a new nursing program. My Mom knew it would be difficult to get into this program because it was new and A LOT of people wanted to be a part of the program. So she decided to apply the first year, believing she didn't have the 'experience' to make the list the first year. But with high hopes of getting accepted the following year. This would have been ideal because the Dork would be 1-ish if she was accepted year two and this would give her more time to get motherhood and wife-hood under her belt prior to going back to school.

Mom at her first Graduation in 1977

This was a grand, grand plan but as usual she had under estimated her abilities and was accepted into the inaugural class. When she started school the Dork was 5 weeks old. For the next 2ish years my mother worked her tail off to finish Nursing School while working as a nursing assistant and raising an infant/toddler. I am a working mother and it is kicking my tail, I can not imagine putting school on top of the current Chaos....But she did it,  powering through work, constant mounds of homework and pee covered books...the Dork figured out if he peed on the books Mom would have to stop studying and let them dry. Therefore, allowing her time to pay attention to him. He was a genius at an early age... Despite all this my Mother graduated in 1977 with an Associates Degree in Nursing, her RN license and a job at the local hospital!  WOOHOO! Smooth Sailing! Outta school, Outta diapers, and Outta weird work hours (sort of). My parents thought they had finally caught that, OH SO elusive break!
Hehehe....Life has a frightening sense of humor....

Mom and Dad smooth sailing....

After a few, short months at her new job she got wonderful news that a bouncy, baby girl was going to make her entrance into the world. She says she cried profusely at the news... I have always assumed they were tears of pure Joy!
1978 came, as did I, and went as did the next 33 years...

Me, Mom and Dork in Maine

In those fast moving years Mom worked day and night (literally) to help provide a comfortable life for  Dork and I. She strived endlessly to improve herself, and us by proximity, as she and Dad showed us we needed to work hard so we could explore and enjoy the world around us.
Over those years she worked her way through the ranks of nursing while finding her niche, in the OR.  Then she worked her way to the top of that niche, and became the Director of Surgical Services and the President of East Tennessee Association of Operating Room Nurses (AORN). This would satisfy most, but, she longed for one more thing. The one thing that two children and life had caused her to postpone over and over. Her Bachelor's Degree.

The Fam...

Mom,
Today, May 5th 2012, you will graduate for a second time, this time at the top of your class. This time, the small people demanding your attention were your grandchildren. The lack of sleep wasn't from an infant, it was from the stresses of a full time Management position, where your performance affects the livelihood of others. This time, you had something more than pushy children and exhaustion...this time you had an aging and ailing parent who also needed you. So, to say the stresses were many, is to put it lightly. Yet, once again you powered through and never quit. Even when you wanted to quit, you stuck with it.  You persevered to the finish, your 2nd college graduation, the one you did for you. I am so proud!!! You are an amazing woman and have taught me life isn't easy, BUT it is mine and, therefore, my responsibility to make it what I want!

Me and My Mom

Thank you for being you and being a wonderful example of beauty and grace in the light of stress and chaos.
I love you and I am SO proud of you!!
EmJ

Chocolate Milk, Baseballs & Family

I was watching Peter Pan with my boys tonight and one of the Lost Boys asked Robin Williams, "What is your Happy thought Peter?" The adult Peter Panning couldn't remember... So I asked LJ, "What is your happy thought? He responds immediately with, "My Family." Then I asked EJ, "What is your happy thought? And he responds, "Chocolate Milk and Baseballs...."
Such honest and innocent answers. 
Although I don't miss being a child, I do miss the simplicity and magic that comes with childhood. The smallest things are completely infatuating and the most complicated things are reduced to, 'Is it worth it the consequence?'
I love my kids and I am so excited to watch them grow but at the same time I am terrified of the day that the magic fades and life becomes a balancing act. At this point in their life they see only good and believe in all the magical parts of life which seem to fade in adulthood.
I have had a rough week...at work, at home, but most importantly in my head...
Thank goodness my boys only see the good. Mommy screams, cries, pouts...they tell me it will be okay... When I fail to see how it will be okay, they hug me, love me, kiss me and make me giggle. Then I remember that all the 'stuff' that is weighing so heavily on my heart is just 'stuff' and the little arms that hold me are all that matter. When I fail to see the magic in the world around me, I can feel it in their arms and kisses and hear it in their sweet, sweet words.  I love my boys, the innocence that engulfs them, the forgiveness that radiates from them and love that pours from them...
No wonder the Bible says in Matthew 18-3:

“Truly I tell you, unless you change 

and become like little children, 

you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Children don't over think things or don't give more weight to a situation than it deserves. They simply believe that everything will be okay...

And it is when we choose to Believe.

-EmJ

We have it all WRONG!!!

5:15 am -(alarm sounds) Grr...I get up, smack it for being annoying and go back to sleep for 8 mins.
5:23 am -(beep...beep) I gently nudge SJ and politely ask him to take care of this annoyance because my smack obviously wasn't hard enough. (SJ refutes the politeness)

The One Eyed Screamer

5:31 am -(beep...beep) I get up, FURIOUS that the one eyed screamer has the audacity to wake me, AGAIN. I call it the one eyed screamer because it has a laser, yes, a freakin' laser (...Austin Powers reference) that shoots the time and temperature onto the ceiling so you don't even have to sit-up to see the time...laziness at its finest.
5:39 am -(B..E..E..P, B..E..E..P) I nudge SJ and ask him to, "Get THAT" (the kindness has left me).
5:46 am -At this point I know you are asking, "Why not just get up?" Well...I just don't wanna...
5:54 am -Kick SJ because I am completely annoyed that he can get up, slap the one eyed screamer and go on to get another 15 minutes of REM sleep before I kick him again...
6:02 am - CRAP!! I'm going to be late! Why didn't the alarm wake me up....

Although this does accurately describe most mornings, Monday-Friday, it hasn't always been this way. Once upon a time we were getting up at 4:45 am (no slapping or kicking involved) running a few miles and enjoying a quiet cup of coffee before the madness began. Now, it seems, the madness begins an hour before we get out of bed.

As maddening as that little ritual is, it is not nearly as maddening as the next 30 minutes.

Lately, I have noticed the morning routine is severely out of balance... Despite what you may think, this has nothing to do with whether or not SJ is pulling his weight in the morning. Honestly as many times as I kick him it's a wonder he can even walk to the bathroom. No, this disparity comes from how little he has to do to get ready every morning. The man crawls out the bed looking like Cousin Itt from the Addams Family and 20 minutes later he looks like he is running for office. IT IS ANNOYING! 20 minutes after I get out of bed I still look like a frizzy headed mess with sheet creases and drool marks on my face. This isn't fair! I have no doubt that with an additional 30-45 minutes of 'attention' I can match his pretty and raise him one. But the additional effort and time requirement is what gets me. I am starting to think as animals, we humans, have the male/female dynamic all wrong and I have evidence!

One of my favorite customers is the Briarwood Ranch Safari off Exit 12 in Morristown. I LOVE calling on them and not just because they buy billboards. But I also get to feed a Lemur, pet a zebra, but not the female, she's grumpy (probably can't get the male to turn off the rooster in the morning) and see some of the coolest animals that you would never expect to see in East Tennessee. It was while I was there, last Thursday, that I had the epiphany* that certain parts of the male/female dynamic were off.

One of my subjects...

After the billboard business was handled, I started looking around for interesting animals and a good picture. At Briarwood this never takes long, especially, when the Peacocks are around. On this particular day, the two males had roosted on the roof of the barn and although the lighting was all wrong for an amazing color picture, it was perfect for a picture that showed their kingly crowns. After pretending I was a photographer and snapping several pictures I noticed the Peahen standing at the base of the barn pecking at her toes while fully ignoring the beautiful displays that have me mesmerized.  We have all seen the breathtaking colors of the Peacocks when they ruffle their tail feathers trying to catch the eye of the nearest female. But the Peahens...have you seen those? Just in case you haven't seen one or don't remember, let me remind you.  Peahens look like someone lopped off the head of a beautiful Peacock and stuck it on the body of a long tailed turkey...aka...they ain't all that. But the males in all their glory, strut around putting on these amazing displays while TRYING to get the attention of the long tailed turkey with the pretty face...

tamstuart.com

For the record, I can do long tailed turkey....WITH NO EFFORT!
This little show I witness tells me Nature intends the males to be the ones that worry and preen, not the females!
How wonderful would it be if we ladies could stand around clucking like a bunch of hens, picking our toes (maybe not with our teeth...yuck) while all the pretty boys were preening and strutting to get our attention?

I know, I know.....stop whining!

My husband loves me no matter what I look like and this is confirmed every morning when I finally crawl out of bed and look in the mirror. But the outside world of bosses, co-workers, clients and potential clients would not care for me looking like the long tailed turkey. Therefore the morning ritual of plucking, preening, applying, smoothing and poofing shall continue....


I am just saying the animals have it right on this one!! The males should have to do the work of getting all gussied up while the females sit picking their toes and the prettiest male.


EmJ

***Mr. Ron Nease, the owner of Briarwood Ranch Safari, has donated a family pass (2 adults, 2 kids) for me to give away to one of my readers...YAY! Leave a comment below and I will randomly draw a winner on Friday, April 13th so one of you can visit this amazing park and see how the humans have it all wrong!***

Another of my 'subjects' at Briarwood

*FYI...this epiphany was probably brought on by a facial breakout that would make a 16 year old cringe.

Rest

picture from flickr: vonSchnauzer

Your vision is blurry from years of taking in the images of life. Your head spins with tasks incomplete. Your heart yearns for one more year, one more month, one more day, one more moment, yet your body is weary for the tasks completed. Warmth consumes you as you finally lay down, giving in to the inevitable. Like a warm bed after a long day, soft and enrapturing, the urge to close your eyes wins and last you rest. 
Waking refreshed and completely restored in the arms of the Father.

Death is a subject that I, much like the rest of the world, do not want to contemplate. I know it is out there and I am comfortable with my place in eternity, but the idea of being separated from the ones that I love, even for a short period, makes my heart weary. For as much as I don't want to think about the one certainty this life holds, sometimes the choice is not mine. When death enters our lives we have to deal with it, when you have kids you have to try to explain it (this can be worse than dealing with it). How do you explain death? The End or the Beginning? I am a Christian, so in my eyes, it is a little of both. But as comfortable as I am with the end/beginning, my boys don't really follow my train of thought. Maybe it derailed and I haven't been notified....
I tried to explain it in the, 'ashes to ashes, dust to dust' way and I was quickly greeted with horrified looks and shouts of, "WE TURN TO DUST?!?! Like the guy in Indiana Jones!!!" "Well, No, it doesn't just happened like POOF!, it is a longer process...." horrified looks intensify....
I started to explain it like a deep sleep, but realized this could make bedtimes a nightmare. So I quickly stop and say, "well, hmmm" as I appear to be pondering a new way of explaining I am, in reality, congratulating myself for stopping while I was ahead...  Death, like this line of questioning, intimidates the hell out of me. I am not afraid of it, I just can't get my head around it and I STRUGGLE with things that I can't fathom. So what now...I can't explain it in a non-terrifying/poofy manner and my intimidation level is causing me to say hmmm...ALOT.   All the while, my children are looking at me like deer in the head lights. So I do what any good mother does..."Boys, enough talk, eat your supper...."

Picture from Flickr: MCar

This conversation, for all the damage it may have done to my children, really helped me realize it isn't the aftermath that bothers me it is the actual event. The fact that there is no way to know when, where, or why makes a control freak like me a teeny bit uncomfortable. The reality that nothing will ever change this fact is what makes me leary when I try to think or talk about it.  However, the more I allowed myself to think about it, not in a grim way, but in a way that I can grasp, the more the intimidation melted away . What if in the moment you surrender to death it feels like you are finally getting the rest you have been longing for? Think about it for just a second! No matter how exhausted we are in this life we don't want to let ourselves stop and rest. We fight through more work, more dishes, more laundry, more dust, and more things that make us feel as if we need just a little more time. But eventually the weight of the tasks accomplished cause us to stop, we then realize rest is the only thing we can now handle. At this moment your bed has never felt better, and although your mind spins with the incomplete tasks, the weariness wins and you are finally still....

Spolier....The next part is the best!

After the collapse, after the surrender and when the stillness is stirred once again.  You wake up refreshed and ready.

Now, this idea I can relate to, this idea doesn't intimidate me...it energizes me!!!

It is the same way with the resurrection of the dead,

Our earthly bodies are planted in the ground when we die, 

but they will be raised to live forever.

Our bodies are buried in brokenness, but they will be raised in glory. 

They are buried in weakness, but they will be raised in strength.

1 Corinthians 15-42-44

Picture from flickr: Djensen

But then it occurred to me...We don't have to be speaking about a physical death and the same rules apply!!

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me,

For I am gentle and lowly in heart,

you will find rest for your souls,

For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

Matthew 11:28-29

Now that is comforting.

EmJ

Bright Ideas

When was the last time you did something that was uncomfortable? I am not referring to squeezing into your skinny jeans, I am referring to something that pushed you outside your daily comfort zone. Have you ever had the urge to call someone that you haven't spoken with in months and you don't know why you have a desire to call them, you just do? Do you call them or do you make an excuse of why you can't call them; "I don't have time", "I don't know what to say" or "The last time we spoke it didn't go well and I am not in the mood to do to that again." There are a multitude of excuses, but the bottom-line is it makes you uncomfortable and we don't like being uncomfortable (unless it is in the name of fashion).

Are we afraid? Does this go back to the Fear that I discussed earlier, where some of us like it and some of us don't? I don't think so. I love scuba diving with a 500lb Grouper chasing me but the idea of telling a stranger I think they have a beautiful smile terrifies me! But every so often I get the urge to tell a complete stranger they are beautiful, they made me smile with their kindness or that their children are making me laugh even though they are making them crazy. Why is this so hard? It's not like I am consenting to jump out of a plane, it is a few words that may change the course of their day. I know this because kind words from a stranger or not so stranger have changed the course of my day many times. How wonderful does it feel to have someone smile at you and say, "your smile has brightened my day" or "I love your shirt"? It makes you stand a little taller and feel a little stronger, doesn't it? How about those times you have had a horrific day at work and you aren't sure you are going to survive the night, but the simple task of getting the mail becomes a day changer. There, in the midst of the bills, junk and catalogues is a small envelope addressed to you from a high school friend that you haven't spoken with in years. The note is short and sweet saying, 'I just had you on my heart and wanted to say hello! I hope all is well'. At that moment your heart warms, your frown cracks and everything gets a little easier.
If you want to believe this is a coincidence please do. I, however, choose to believe it is something so much cooler than coincidence. Let's consider this specific event. Sometime, about a week prior to my crappy day, someone that I rarely speak to, (with exception of 'likes' and 'LOL's' on Facebook),  decided to write me a note. She then placed it in the mail to be delivered on the very day that I needed an unexpected smile. I choose to believe that God knew I was going to need to smile that night and he put a desire in my friend's heart that COULD make it happen. The trick to making this chain of events work is that when that little voice said, "Hey I should send Emily a card" my friend didn't make excuses or worry about what I would think, she just did it and the 'plan' worked.

His plan. Worked.

Another example of this phenomena is I love to send snail mail cards. I really, really enjoy sending hand-written, old-fashioned cards. I know this is not the new fancy way of communication. I could e-mail, text, message or poke someone but, its just not the same (especially the 'poking' that is just strange). There is something about having tangible proof that someone thought about you and followed through on that thought all the way to the post office.  Sometimes I have a purpose, sometimes I just have a desire to let someone know that I am thinking about them. But no matter the inspiration for the card it never ceases to amaze me how many times these cards are delivered on the exact day the recipient needs it. It also amazes me that even though I really enjoy sending these cards it is still difficult to send them every time someones name pops into my head. The sad thing is, it is not difficult because of any good reason, it is difficult because of the excuses that quickly arrive on the heals of the name. I am busy, I don't have any cards or stamps etc. etc. etc.
I recently asked a bunch of friends to step out of their comfort zones and send a note of encouragement to a friend that most of them did not know. This friend is recovering from surgery and I wanted to express to her that even though she didn't know them a multitude of people would be praying for her as she healed. I knew that asking people to send a card to someone that they didn't know would require them to step outside their comfort zone and I didn't know if everyone would be willing. But they were willing (my friends are amazing) and she received tons of support through random acts of kindness and love from women she had never met. The tug on my heart to do something different, to do something that depended on the willingness of others to do something that was outside the norm has made an incredible impact not only on my friend but me as well.

THIS IS HUGE....

If we will make ourselves available to add something to the world around us, be a small light in this world, we can make a difference. We will impact each other in amazing and life changing ways. I will testify that it is not easy to reach out, it is easier to make the excuses, look away and pretend the thought never crossed my mind. BUT consider the possibilities if you ignore the excuses and step out of your comfort zone. Look in the eyes of a stranger and acknowledge the desire to speak or reach out, regardless of if it makes 'sense' to you. What if instead of worrying that complimenting a total stranger will make us look strange, we were more concerned with WHY we so desperately want to say something to a stranger. If you step outside yourself and your comfort zone, obey the call in your heart, you may find that you can be the love that somebody desperately needs at that exact moment.

WOW... if we will do this, the future has never looked so bright! 

www.findingserendipity.com

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." Matthew 5:14-16

EmJ


The spectacular picture above was provided by my friend Patty Christopher, who has become a beautiful light in my life! Please visit her at www.findingserendipity.com.

Wildly Inappropriate

Picture this. We are at the doctors office, a typical Pediatrician's exam room, various animals on the wall, a single 'parent' chair, an examination table and of course impending doom. I know that any minute the door will open and a sweet faced demon will walk in with her tray of torture devices, more commonly known as shots. I know this is coming, my sweet faced boys fortunately do not. At this point they are blissfully unaware as they play with my phone and the paper robes in which they are currently adorned. They currently feel as if they have won this battle unscathed and will be collecting their booty of stickers as they walk out the door any minute now....
Then it happens, the nurse walks through the door with a smile on her face and a very recognizable tray in her hand. Their faces pale, the smiles fade and the panicked eyes shoot daggers at me as they say, "Who is getting a shot?" "It is him, isn't it?" As him starts furiously shaking his head NO! I calmly say, "both of you will be getting a shot today, but remember these shots are for your own good." However, this last part is lost in wailing that is currently pouring out from my oldest, my youngest is still silent as he pinches himself trying to awake from the nightmare.
Most Moms, I imagine, start to feel sympathetic for their children and maybe even start crying at the prospect of forcing their children to endure such unpleasantries.  What does this Mom do? I start laughing...It starts as a slight grin, with the wailing, and then turns to a bold face laugh as the TOTAL drama of the moment erupts. Judging by the looks on the nurses faces this IS NOT the reaction they were expecting, but this is absolutely what they get from me. As the situation progresses the cries, wails of woe and giggles only get worse.  Now please understand I am not a sadistic Mother that enjoys watching her children cry and get shots. But I am the type of person that laughs at the most inappropriate times. You make me angry, my first reaction is to laugh. You make me sad, laughter, then tears and sometimes they overlap. My kids wailing at the doctors office as if they just found out they were getting a limb amputated....borderline hysteria.
I like to think that I am always looking for the humor in situations and that is why, when I am faced with something like the shots, laughter is my gut reaction. I mean if the nurses weren't laughing behind my back they missed a golden opportunity. At one point I am holding down a 40 pound version of the Hulk while my 7 year old is crawling under the table trying to make a break for it. THIS IS GOOD STUFF PEOPLE, laughter is required!
Laughter is what attracted me to my husband and laughter is what has gotten us through some of our toughest times. Laughter is free and when you are broke it comes in handy! Laughter is what makes the difference between close friends and acquaintances. Can you laugh so hard you pee your pants in front of an acquaintance? Heck no! But if it is a good friend, chances are, you will both have wet pants before the moment passes! Laughter is what gets me through my toughest days at work. The days if I was trying to screw up I couldn't do it right. Like the day I met with a customer who seem more interested in giving me a coke than listening to anything I had to say. After trying repeatedly to get him off the coke and back on task I finally slouched back to my car defeated. Only after checking my lipstick in the mirror did I realize the need for the coke.  The black sesame seeds from my sushi lunch had nestled themselves in every crevice my teeth had to offer. He was probably trying to determine if I had half my lunch in my teeth or the worst case of gingivitis he had ever seen. This is when laughter is the only option. Not just any laughter but the deep down gut laughter that can make any day brighter despite the defeats which threaten to darken it; even if it is at your own expense.
If we can laugh, if we can find the smallest amount humor in the worst of situations we will catch a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel or for my boys the sticker table as they exit doctors office.

EmJ

70mph on a donut

This will be the first of a few posts that will deal with how ADHD has effected our family and the choices that we have made, and continue to make, as we deal with this diagnosis. Please understand this is incredibly personal and I am being completely honest about every aspect of this ordeal in hopes of helping anyone that is dealing with this struggle.

The other morning as I was driving into work, at a respectable 70 mph, when I noticed the car just to my left, which was also at this cruising speed, had one of those itty, bitty, teensy, weensy donuts on its rear passenger side. Immediately I recognized this could be dangerous not only for that driver but for me as well. "What if that thing pops?" (and I say 'pop' because I have seen balloons with thicker walls) If that joke of a tire pops, by simple proximity, we are both in trouble. I now had a choice, speed up to 20+ mph over the posted speed limit and get past him or slow down and get to a safe distance at a safe speed. I decided to slow down, to the shock of most I am absolutely certain, because two wrongs, or in this case, idiots don't make a right. 

Now to get to this point a couple of things have had to happen. This gentleman has had to have had a tire blow out and after this blow out he decided to roll with the donut rather than replace it with a normal tire. Which is fine, except the sticker on the side of those things EXPLICITLY says, "Do not exceed 45mph and 150 miles." To be fair I have no idea if he was heading to the nearest tire shop (we passed 3) but, he definitely wasn't concerned with the speed.  

After I had slowed down and gotten a safe distance away, I proceeded to watch for the blow out…. Luckily it didn't happen.  Once we were on the interstate I decided to move to the front of the class and stop worrying about his issues AND then he crashed….. No, Not really but I knew that was what you were thinking. =) 

What really happened next was I started thinking about how I do this same thing with my emotions. I have a blow out, something goes horribly wrong or off track and I do what I do best. I fix it to the best of my abilities and proceed on the road of life at my normal cruising speed, which is typically +15 over the posted limit. 

(I feel like I need to step back here and remind you of an important aspect about me that I touched on earlier in Hello...my name is Emily. I am a controlling person. Not controlling in that I like to manipulate people but controlling in that I do not need any help…with anything. I can handle it if it needs to be handled and I can fix it if it needs fixing. It is a HUGE Pride/Ego issue that I feel that God is working on heavily) 

The key statement here is 'I fix it'. This should probably be I patch it up, I put the spare on and believe the problem is gone. Sometimes this 'fix' actually does solve the problem which is GREAT except the 'fix' for the problem doesn't address the emotional side of the blowout. 

For me, the biggest 'blow out' involves one of my children. 

It started when he was about four. 

WOW! He is a great kid, but….. 

Oh man! He is a super smart kid, BUT…. 

Oh my, he is a wild little boy and l love him to pieces BUT….

There was ALWAYS a but. 

So, We started early defending him against the 'butts' (pun intended). 

We were ALWAYS defending him and along with that we were ALWAYS demanding something from him. IF I am going to defend you, you had better behave in a way that deserves defending. This was a lot of pressure to put on a little guy, but by god we were going to Fix it!! 

Fast forward 2 years, two Hellish years of meeting with preschool teachers, daycare directors and principals and more teachers, we were exhausted. He was exhausted.

We spoke with Doctors about those dreaded acronyms that you hear so much about.  Their answer was more exercise so we dove in full force. 5am at the gym swimming laps, 4:45am running miles; bad day at school….okay lets go run/swim some more. We we were exhausted and he was still getting into trouble. More meetings at school. The cell phone ringing everyday with more news of trouble. punishment. discipline. tears. screams. EXHAUSTION.

We were all exhausted. Shaun and I had to admit we can't fix our little boy and this broke our hearts in an indescribable and excruciating way. 

The spare had blown at 75mph and we felt like we were nothing more than a wreck that people wanted to stare at and discuss. But In the center of this wreck was my little boy, my wonderful, amazing, fearfully made little boy that I could not fix or understand.  My little boy who under the pressure of being good, sitting still, trying to comprehend the mental and physical boundaries that he was crossing was being broken to pieces. Broken by the fact that he couldn't help himself and even though he knew better he couldn't stop. He was never going to get it right on his own. He was being broken daily by the glances and whispers of the adults around him saying that he was not 'right', something is wrong with him, he just isn't trying hard enough.  The fact that I was in that group strips me to the core. I am his mother. I can fix it! We will fight until it is right. Until you are right. YOU ARE NOT AN ABBREVIATION!  You are my child and you can and YOU WILL control yourself, you will do it because I SAY SO….

We got the diagnosis of severe ADHD in October 2011. After months of play therapy and trying to let someone else 'fix it'.

We agreed to try medication after one horrible night when he cried out and said, "I am SO tired of not being good enough and not being able to turn off my mind, I just wish I could go….away…." He was 7.

November 1st was our D-day. This was the first day that he would be on the medication. We told no one. Mainly because we wanted a true picture of how the medication was working and not just an opinion that they we're glad he was on something. Partially because there was a chance that the medication would not work and then, as the doctor put it, 'we had a whole new set of problems that would need to be addressed.' When you and your child are at the end of your rope you don't want to think that your last resort may not work and you definitely don't want to explain to anyone else that it didn't work. 
I picked Luke up at 6pm on November 1st and he said, "Mommy I had a really good day today! My bowels moved A LOT but I had a really good day!" (The bowels moving are a side effect of the medication kind of like coffee in the AM for some adults) But the point was it worked even at 6pm he was articulate and calm. He was himself but with forethought. There was no zombie effect and he had, in the words of his teacher, A really, REALLY good day. Four months later we have found the medication helps him turn down the noise and allows him to focus on the things that need to be controlled. 

The new tire is on and he is on track.

Mama just realized she is still using the donut….

Paula Deen, after years of battling agoraphobia said, 'I finally had to let go, I had to accept my parent's deaths, I had to accept my mortality, and I had to accept the mortality of my children. These are things that I can not control or change and once I placed them in God's hands I was free from the fear that had been controlling my life."

When I heard this the donut blew, again. My heart dropped, my stomach wretched and I started crying. Although Luke is healing, I am still living in fear. I haven't given it to God and I am waiting for the pain and struggle to return. I am in 'control' and I have lost the ability to enjoy so much time with my children. I am constantly waiting for/looking for the next fight. Looking so hard that I believe I sometimes start fights just to get it over with. (Crazy right!?!)

I am slowly realizing this is what happens when I patch it up and move on. I have to learn to deal with the emotional wreck that this or any situation causes on the inside, the deep parts of my mind and soul that can be easily hidden from the world. I DEALT with the wreck that the ADHD caused on the outside, but the inside was/is mine and 'I am fine!' (and we all know know what "fine" means) I don't need you on this one God, I got it! Maybe next time…I am sure something will pop up that I will need your advice on but concerning this wreck, It's all good.

Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I am learning to let go and try to do things that I remind others to do. The verse that is on the back of my business card is Deuteronomy 31:8.

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; 

He will never leave you nor forsake you.

 DO NOT BE AFRAID; 

do not be discouraged.

How much clearer can it be? If I am still afraid, then I am still trying to control it and it is not mine to control. As I have mentioned so many times before we have a choice;  A patched up life of fear waiting for the next blow out OR a Life of Complete Peace.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.

I do not give to you as the world gives.

Do not let your hearts be troubled and

DO NOT BE AFRAID

EmJ

Fear

Fear is defined as a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, or pain, whether the threat is real or imagined.

Fear, of the real or the imagined, is a very real experience that can cause a very real response in our physical and mental being. The physical responses to fear can include sweating, increased heart rate and high adrenaline levels as your body is preparing for a ‘fight or flight’ reaction. This is a very primitive and automatic response. It is crucial to our survival that we recognize danger and that our bodies know what to do when the danger presents itself. The emotional response is less primitive and more personal. Some people LOVE being fearful or afraid.  They love it so much that they jump out of planes, ski down mountains at incredible speeds or my personal favorite, strap an air tank on their back and slide into the deep blue sea. Hoping to catch a glimpse of a host of terrifying behemoths. These people love the adrenaline that comes with doing something that is absolutely terrifying to others. They don’t perceive fear that accompanies these adventures as negative. Instead it is perceived as a positive. The ‘WOOOHOOOO, DID YOU SEE WHAT I JUST DID?’ kind of positive.  

The funny thing is depending on what group you fall in, you tend to think the people in the other group are a little bit crazy. (Or a lot crazy depending on what they are jumping out of or on too.)

Fear is ever present in our lives. It is what keeps us alive in some cases and what makes us feel alive in others. Fear is not bad unless you let it have your life. Fear was not, ‘created’ to control us, it was ‘created’ to warn us. Fear is the little voice in your head that says, “Whoa, are you sure about this? This doesn’t seem like the best idea. Maybe you should step back and make sure this is the move you want to make.” Then you stop, look around, assess the situation and make a decision. You either jump full force ready to hear the wind swirl around you as you see the world in a new way. OR you walk away knowing that this was not the right jump. 

picture provided by www.skydiveet.com

But you make a decision, you fight or you take flight, you don’t stand there paralyzed with fear. We have to make a move. An ALL IN, balls to the wall move or a slow steady move to safer ground. Movement is mandatory. A life controlled by fear is a life without motion, it is stagnant and dying.

We have been promised a life free from fear, a life that is not controlled by the things that are meant to guide and protect us.  Yet, so many times we give these things, absolute control and they devour us.

What is your fear? What is holding you back? Is it being vulnerable? Is it being alone? Is it being committed? Is it being broke? Or better yet, being broken? Is it death? Whatever it may be please don’t give the little voice a bullhorn and say, “Here you make the decisions.” 

Fear will take control and it will slowly take away your dreams.

“…God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power (2 Tim 1:7) and he says in Isaiah 41:10 “I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, DO NOT FEAR; I will help you.

EmJ