An Open Letter to my Children 2016

I am thinking tonight of all of the things that make my children so special to me. How some of those things are the same as they were a year ago…or two years ago. But some of the things have changed. Some of the little idiosyncicies that I cherished have slipped away as they have grown and I don’t even think of them anymore. And dare I say that I’ve even forgotten???

So tonight, in this world of crazy election chaos, violence and hatred, drought, famine, and all of the other hard, unbearable things this world throws at us, I’m going to take a minute just to tell my kids how much joy they bring me in the midst of the madness. Because if they’re not old enough to know it today, I hope someday they look back and read this and realize, they were made just for me, and I for them, to love and care for, nurture and grow together. 

For Jace, my son:

You are seven. You are in an awkward stage where you’re missing half your teeth and you haven’t grown as big or tall as most of your friends. Scary movies are your absolute favorite (I love that about you…they were my favorite too). You love steak…LOVE steak, and ice cream, Pringles, orange tic tacs. You discovered Steph Curry this year and fell in love with basketball. You also grew in leaps and bounds in your baseball skills. You are learning to read with confidence. You are also learning to speak with confidence, although it is difficult for you. You second guess yourself almost always but I’m always happy to stand behind you to give that gentle (or not so gentle) nudge. You have a quick wit and sharp sense of humor. Your laugh is maybe the cutest sound I’ve ever heard and I wish I could hear it all the time. You pick on your sister incessantly but you also cherish her when no one is looking. You tell me every day that I’m the “best mom ever.” But you really can’t understand yet that being your mom is my greatest blessing and just how much I love you. Thank you for being just the person you were meant to be and for filling my heart so full. 

For Jera, my daughter:

You are four. I sometimes think you’re a love gremlin, sent here to snatch up all of my hugs and kisses. You never seem to get enough, even stopping for a squeeze and a crawl into my lap several times throughout supper every single night (God, help me not take this for granted). You are, without a doubt, the most loving soul. You love Tom and Gerry but mistakenly refer to the cat as “Tomen” because you don’t realize the show is called “Tom AND Gerry”…not “Tomen Gerry”. That one makes me smile every single time. You’re scared of the dark, and spooky movies, and loud sounds…you’re actually a bit of a fraidy cat but I love that about you. You have such a big, outgoing personality and you will talk to anyone, anywhere. You’re never scared to make a new friend. We’re battling food allergies with you and you stop to ask if I’ll read the label before trying something new. That makes me proud of you. You are thoughtful in the most unexpected ways. You love bedtime stories and watching Netflix in the bathtub. You love wearing dresses. You insist on wearing winter boots in the dead heat of summer. You are too beautiful for words. Thank you for being a ray of light and hope for me. I love you with all of my heart.

Love always and forever,

Your mom 💕

For my readers:

Take the time to remember, to write down the things that make your heart swell. Life is so busy. There is so much negativity. Take the time to focus on what really matters. Be grateful. It truly is the little things. Don’t let them slip by and fade away.

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Room for Doubt

My faith has become a center for my life.  My marriage, the way I raise my children, my friendships and even my career are heavily shaped by my faith and where I feel I fit into God’s world.  I have talked friends through times of crisis.  I have pushed myself and my family through times of grief all on the back of my sturdy and solid faith.  But I have to share that I’ve had moments where my faith fell.

I hesitate to write on this because it feels a bit taboo as a Christian. Is it okay to say I have moments of doubt? Is it okay to admit that in my life’s darkest moments, I have felt the terror of wondering if I am alone? Does this make me a bad Christian?   

It was nearly a month ago that I found myself in this dark place. It hit me like a ton of bricks. My happy, peaceful little life was turned on its head. My plans were interrupted. The things that had been important the day before, suddenly had no significance. And with this swift turn of events, I felt incredibly weak in my faith.

I struggled in my pain and confusion and I wondered, is my God real? This idea of a soul, is it more than an elaborate, hard-wiring in our brains? Are we nothing more than the most amazing computer that biology ever evolved? The feelings I had in those moments with my thoughts are hard to describe. I don’t think I can find a way to write the emptiness of doubt.

I have heard of people hearing an answer from God. I mean actually hearing. There are Biblical stories and those experiences my friends have shared. But those have always been just stories. Something that happened for someone else, but not me. I have cried out in loss to God and felt resentful at the return of silence. But this time, in the silence of my doubt, I could hear for the first time.

I received an answer.  I heard a clear, calm voice and it told me, 

“No. This life is not it.  You are more than your personality.  You are more than your intelligence. You are more than the way you feel about one another.  There is more to you than the way the world perceives you.  You. Are. More. Than. The. World. Can. See.”  

I was astounded in my heartbreak.  How did I never understand this?  I had thought the soul was so simple. I have explained it to my children time and time again saying, “Our soul makes us who we are…why Jace is funny…why Jera is stubborn…why we feel and cry and think.”

But suddenly I knew with absolute certainty that that isn’t it at all. We can change the way the world sees us.  We can mimic another’s behavior.  We can pretend to be someone we’re not.  We can fool the world. We can make the world love us. We can make the world hate us.  But only God sees who we truly are…only God has access to our souls.  Only God knows us, the deep down, secret parts of us.  The parts that we don’t show our lovers and our friends.  The parts that our family never knows.  The part that we might not even recognize.  The part that is tucked away and is only for God, our Creator.  

This part of us knows only God. Our soul doesn’t create a persona. It doesn’t design an interesting human being.  Our personality is certainly a gift to us. It is a tool that can be used to do God’s work.  And our relationships and the way we relate to one another, again, are separate from our soul. These bonds are again, a way for us to show God’s love to one another in this life.  But our personality and our relationships are not US.  They do not determine who we are and without them, we are still us.  

If tomorrow something happens in this life, my memories are taken from me and you can’t recognize me as the often bubbly, sometimes overly serious, too guilible and always passionate person, wife, mom, sister, daughter, friend that I have always been….God will still know me. He can see past all of the qualities that the world uses to define me. He can see what I’m made of. 

This is my answer. This was my experience. My gift in my time of doubt. I’ve never felt so certain of anything in my life.  In my darkest moment, in my doubt, God was listening and he provided my answer.

I still went to sleep that night with a troubled and heavy heart.  But I knew I was not alone.  Difficult times are not over for my family. Over the past month, God has shown himself to my family and to me…little, undeserving, doubting me…again and again.  I hope to tell the world about God’s work in my life.  It is my greatest responsibility to share it with you. 

I hope you read this and know that if you doubt, it’s okay. We are only human. I never thought I would react with doubt in a time of desperation…but I did. And my faith grew in leaps and bounds from this experience. Our faith can grow from our human experience. It should. I’m starting to realize, that’s the whole point. And when you doubt, God will love you anyway.

Family Fodder

My family is big by any standards. My dad comes from a family of 12 and my mom comes from a family of 9. For the most part, each one of my aunts and uncles have 2-3 children and now my cousins and I continue on the legacy of what my grandparents started all of those years ago. This is nowhere close to all of us…if we were all in the same place at the same time, we’d need a much bigger photo!

Family…what an amazing and incredible blessing. Our very own modern day tribe. The very best friends I’ve had in my life, those I’ve grown up with, those I continue to grow old with, the ones from the beginning who will still be there in the end, they’re my family. My best memories are those made with my aunts, uncles and cousins. A bond made strong by shared laughs, countless sleepovers, hearty German meals together and the realization that there are other humans in this world that not only have shared many of my experiences, but also who are truly a part of who I am. Genetics are incredible and when I spend time with my cousins whom I don’t see nearly enough, I find myself feeling right at home. I know it’s more than the late night secrets shared 25 years ago that keep us close after all of this time. We are cut from the same cloth…how can we not be thankful for this gift of family?

I am in awe for the way we’re all connected in this experience of life. It makes me want to build the same thing for my children. How different my life would be if I didn’t have this safe place where I will always belong…family. I’ve made a good start, for my kids I mean. Although they spend most of their time arguing with one another at the moment (like most siblings do), they also love each other like crazy. And thankfully they also have cousins who are already their best friends. They keep secrets from us lame adults, they giggle over things we don’t understand, they spend endless hours playing games that they’ve designed and no one else gets….they know one another in a way someone outside of this circle will never understand. I couldn’t be happier or more grateful. 

So here are the experiences I hope for for my children with their God-given best friends, their cousins:

1. Late night whispers and giggles together after I’ve tucked them in and demanded they go to sleep RIGHT NOW!
2. The building of forts, the telling of stories, the dreams of modeling or becoming the next Steph Curry, the desire to take on the world together in adventure after adventure
3. Excited secrets of first loves…first kisses…and the tender understanding needed from a true friend after their first heartbreak
4. The passing on of the advice that I, as Mom, am not ready to give…it was a cousin who told me Santa wasn’t real, it was a cousin who showed me how to shave my legs and even passed on all of the feminine necessities when I reached that magical age of womanhood
5. Days and nights of too much fun shared with the people that care enough to let them know when they’re out of line. And the knowledge that when they’ve stepped over that line, they’ll always have a friend that sees them for who they truly are, not for the mistakes they’ve made
6. Celebrations of graduations, weddings, children and all of the other amazing gifts in life
7. The shared decision one day down the road 25 years from now, when it’s easy to drift apart, that their friendship is so worth the effort…and the discovery that things between them are just as easy and joyful as when they were five.

Have you thought about those special people in your life? The ones who have always been there? Give thanks for the way they’ve shaped you as a person, thanks for all that you’ve shared, thanks to have someone in this world that just gets you. Don’t forget to make that extra effort. Go the extra mile. There are some things that time and distance will not change; the bond of family is one of those unchangables. Let’s never take that for granted. I read somewhere the other day “Find Your Tribe, Love Them Hard.” Some of us are lucky enough not to have to look too far. My tribe has always been there and they always will be. I give thanks for that every day.

Case Closed

I finally returned to work on Wednesday morning. After my son’s tonsillectomy and finding a lump in my breast over the previous seven days, it felt like I had been gone from the office for forever. But it wasn’t forever…it was five business days. Which goes to show you just how quickly life can turn. The morning dragged on and on as I anticipated whether my results would come in from my biopsy the previous day.

Around 10:30 that morning my phone rang and I immediately recognized the number. It was the hospital! I jumped up from my seat and grabbed my phone heading for a more private setting. I answered to a cheery voice that shared that I would be able to come in that day anytime before 2:30. I asked if noon or 1:00 would work and the voice answered, “I’ll put you in for a biopsy check at 1:00.” Anxiously I asked, “Will I get my results then too?” “Yes, you will” she answered. I had secretly hoped she would just reveal my results over the phone but I’m sure that is outside of protocol…so I silently retreated to the fact that I’d have to wait until my appointment.

While the minutes dragged by, I was surprisingly calm. I realized the woman from the hospital had not suggested that I bring someone with me. That had to be a good sign. I felt very optimistic but tried to hold back. It’s an errie feeling to be so close to the answer but still not know.

1:00 finally rolled around. My sister had planned to come with me already and I was glad to have her there. My pastor met us at the hospital as well. I entered the Women’s Center and didn’t wait more than three minutes before my name was called. The nurse asked me to have a seat in a small office. Her name was Kelly and she had a sweet, friendly demeanor that immediately put me at ease. She removed my bandaging and checked my incision. She asked if I was having pain and I answered that the pain was very mild. Nurse Kelly reported that everything looked good on my incision and I should expect the tape to start to peel away over the next five to seven days as my wound heals. She then took a step back from me and said “Oh, and your results came back fine so you’re good!”

And that was it. I was a little in shock. Thankful. But in shock. It was so simple. Nurse Kelly explained that I had a fibroadenoma (non-cancerous tumor) and it would require no further intervention. I had about a billion questions running through my mind. I asked if the tumor could continue to grow but she was unsure. She gave me an information sheet with some basic information on fibroadenomas and let me know if I had any problems going forward to contact my doctor.

I stepped out of the hospital into a beautiful March day. I was relieved. I was thankful. I was also a little numb. The influx of emotion over the last two days was catching up with me and it would take some time to fully digest that I was okay.

I shared the good news with my friends and family and I went back to work. Back to my normal life. Back to routine. Back to being a normal, regular 31-year old, healthy mom of two.

That evening I visited my uncle who is in his final stages of life. He has battled cancer for the past eight months. He is on his journey to heaven and hospice is telling us that he is down to days. I don’t know my uncle as well as I wish I would have. What I do know about him is that he is a Vietnam vet who fought for our country, he is a fisherman and he loves the outdoors, and most of all he is a kind man. He is sleeping a lot at this point but we were lucky to find him quite alert. He was however in severe pain. When I went to hug him, he winced at my touch…but he still wanted a hug. When I told him that I wished there was something I could do for him, he said I already was doing something for him by just being there. He talked about an eagle he saw from his window in the past few days, told a fisherman’s story and spoke of relatives that have passed on many, many years ago.

As we left, I was sure of one thing…God is with Charlie now as he continues to make his journey. I had told my sister earlier in the day, after we got the good news on my biopsy, that the one thing that resonates with me about the previous 48 hours…the thing that I come back to when I ask why I just went through this…I cannot shake the feeling from that first day, Day One. When I came home from the doctor who had confirmed that there was something growing inside of me that needed further testing, after I had learned that there was a chance that I could have breast cancer, I prayed to God and asked for his help to be strong and I truly felt him surround me. I felt closer to God in that moment than anytime I can remember. So that feeling, that knowledge, that God is closest to us when we need him the most…that he carries us when we’re too weak to carry ourselves…that he is standing beside and carrying the weak, the sick, the poor and broken-hearted…that’s the greatest promise I can imagine.

I’m back to life as usual…mad-rush around in the morning, work, mad-dash for dinner and bedtime in the evening and then do it all over again the next day. I feel so blessed to be given the grace to continue on and I will try to hold on to the memory of that “Day One Prayer” but I know it will fade as I get lost in the hustle and bustle of life. But I take peace in knowing that when life throws me my next curve, there is nothing I will ever have to face on my own.

A Bump, a Blessing and a Biopsy

Today was the day for a mammogram and ultrasound…the day to get some answers about the bump that caught me by complete and utter surprise yesterday morning as I laid snuggling in bed with my youngest.  At 31 I had never had a mammogram before and I was nervous about the procedure as well as the answers that it could lead to.  Thankfully I received an enormous amount of support after my blog post last night and it helped to give me strength.  I received countless messages, comments, friends sharing my story and asking for prayers…as I said yesterday, I believe in the power of prayer and your prayers carried me through today.

Back to the mammogram…a friend had advised me to take a couple of Tylenol beforehand to offset the discomfort of the test…I had no idea what to expect.  A bundle of nerves, I was relieved to find not one, but two friends, waiting for me at the registration desk.  I registered and made my way to the Women’s Center.  There I dressed in the lovely hospital gown (at Jace’s tonsillectomy the week before a nurse referred to the gown as the “Dr. Seymour Butts Gown”…I liked that.  I’m easily entertained.).  Within ten minutes I was escorted to a room and had my very first mammogram.  I was surprised to find that it wasn’t as awful as I had feared.  Awkward…a little.  Painful…not at all.  Also, word of advice, you can’t wear deodorant when you have a mammogram.  Sometimes being a woman is so weird.

From there I waited in the waiting room for a few more minutes before it was time for the ultrasound.  That procedure took a total of five minutes and the doctor came in shortly from there.  From entering the hospital doors, registering, having a mammogram, having an ultrasound, the whole ordeal took less than an hour.  The doctor read my tests and explained to me that he believed (and please forgive my lack of medical knowledge…I interpreted the best I could) that the lump in my breast was a tumor (not the word he used).  He could not be sure if it is malignant or benign.  He explained that he had a two percent leeway to make his assessment.  If the tumor had characteristics that cause it to fall between the 0% – 2% range, he could assess that the tumor is benign and no other action would be necessary.  Unfortunately, my tumor has some abnormal characteristics.  He assured me that the likelihood of the tumor being malignant is still very low (he placed me at the 5% range) but he could not be sure without performing a biopsy.

I was left to dress and then met the nurse to make an appointment for the biopsy.  She explained that during the biopsy the doctor would give me a shot for general anesthesia that would numb my entire breast.  From there he would make a tiny incision and insert a needle to remove samples of the tumor to send for further testing.  The doctor would receive my results back within 24-48 hours and would have me come into the office to talk through the results, as well as to check my incision.  She pulled up the calendar and found that the nearest appointment was on the 30th…eight days away.

I left the office feeling a little deflated.  I was thankful for that the tumor was most likely benign but still uneasy to not know for sure.  I also couldn’t imagine waiting eight days to have the biopsy and then an additional one to two days to learn the results.  I realize this is the experience for most people…the waiting.  My heart aches for them.  I’m not sure that there is much worse than not knowing.  I headed home and made a few phone calls to give updates to my family.  I choked back tears thinking of going through Easter egg hunts, church services, work days with this heavy burden on my heart.

I was still processing my morning and allowing the events of the past 24 hours to sink in when my phone rang.  It was the hospital.  They had a cancellation…it was about 11:30 in the morning and they could take me today at 1:15.  This is a miracle in my mind and soul.  I didn’t expect or dream that this would happen although I prayed for it, and to my awe and surprise, my wait was over.  Eight days were turned into an hour and a half.  Isn’t that amazing???  I was in awe.  I called my sister and asked if she could come with me.  And as always, she didn’t miss a beat.  There was no question…she was by my side.  My Pastor also stayed with me through this entire ordeal.  I feel so blessed to have so much support.

The nurse had warned me that the numbing shot for the biopsy would be painful.  She actually repeated that sentiment several, SEVERAL times.  I went in anticipating a painful experience and to my surprise…it wasn’t bad.  That’s all I can say about it.  It isn’t the most pleasant experience…I don’t care to do it again…but all in all, it wasn’t bad.  After making the incision, the doctor placed the long, needle-like instrument into my breast.  I could watch on the ultrasound as he prodded the mass in my body.  He warned me that I would hear and feel a pop and sure enough, there was a pop.  I don’t know for sure but I imagine it is like when you get your finger pricked and the little needle explodes from the plastic to pierce through your skin quickly.  After the pop, he would draw out the instrument, remove the sample and then go through the process again.  We did this a total of four to six times.  And then it was done.  The nurse applied pressure to my incision for fifteen minutes, dressed the wound and I was able to get put my clothes on and head home.

Hopefully, the results will be in by noon tomorrow.  If the results come in, I will return to the hospital between 1:00 – 3:00 tomorrow and learn what my results are.  At the absolute latest, the results will be in on Thursday.  Either way, good news or bad, I will know an answer for certain by the end of this week.  I can’t exercise for 48-72 hours.  I can’t take any aspirin, blood thinners or ginkgo biloba.  I can’t lift more than 10 pounds.  But that’s it.  At this point that is the only fall-out from the bump that turned my week on it’s head.  I can handle all of that.  I can be grateful that there will be an answer…and hopefully one that says that I am cancer-free.

I still can’t believe the past two days have even happened…they have been bizarre and blessed and unreal all at the same time.  I have felt every range of emotion…fear, sadness, nervousness and anxiousness, happiness and excitement, worry, stress, thankfulness.  The past two days have been everything…every single thing.  But what stands out the most to me is the kindness.  I have been shown so much love and kindness over the past two days that I am astounded.  I have received messages, prayers, surprise visitors and friends that wouldn’t allow me to do this alone.  I have been given support from those that are closest to me and old friends alike…from those that know me well and those that have only known me a short while.  The nurses and the doctor were nothing short of amazing and gracious.  They were understanding and patient.  And above all other amazing happenings the past two days, when I received the call that said I could have the biopsy today…eight days before the next opening…I saw all of the prayers come into fruition.  I can’t say thank you enough to those of you who took the time to mention me in your prayers.  It is so powerful.  So thank you.  Thank you so much.

I hope to have an answer tomorrow and will update when I do.  Tonight I am thankful for God and his graciousness.  Today could have gone much differently but tonight I feel I can go to sleep with some peace.   The tests are done.  What will be will be.  Now I wait on results.  I have nothing but hope and optimism for what tomorrow will bring.

Grace Carried Me Here, and by Grace, I Shall Carry On

I awoke this morning in a bit of a fog.  The last week of my life has been consumed by my seven-year old’s tonsillectomy.  The surgery went very well but day two was extraordinarily rough with him throwing up and having a temperature that topped out at 104 degrees.  He would improve and then take two steps back.  I had planned to return to work today, but after Jace had another rough morning yesterday, I decided it would be in his best interest to not be forced to wake up at six in the morning and be carted around so I can make it in to the office by eight.

Anyhow, I awoke this morning with a tiny little body curled up into mine and I have never been so comfortable in my life.  I wasn’t sure at first if it was my son or daughter who had snuck into my bed, but then I found her little toes and felt her hair in the dark and figured out that, yes…yes, it was definitely my daughter.  Why is she so cuddly???  I can never get out of bed when she is around….that is unless she is pulling me out of bed by the arm demanding strawberry milk and/or pancakes.  We definitely have those mornings as well.  But this morning was different.  Her eyes fluttered open and we laid in bed just soaking in the day.  She chatted and I listened and felt calm and happy.  The house was quiet which meant my son was still sleeping and I silently patted myself on the back for deciding to stay home to let him get some much needed rest.  Then I stretched out my arms for a good morning stretch and as my fingertips grazed the top of my chest, I noticed a lump in the top left-hand side of my chest.

I focused in on the spot in disbelief but yes, it was there, a round, hard ball in the top left-hand side of my breast.  I wish I could say that I am a responsible adult female and regularly do self-examinations to check for this sort of thing, but I don’t.  I often forget that I’m now 31 and I’m really not as young as I used to be.  My daughter was still chattering away but my world ceased to move for the moment.  The logical side of my brain said “Don’t panic, Melissa.  This could be anything.  It’s nothing to worry about. Don’t panic.”  The emotional side of my brain flashed the unthinkable…my children growing up without me there, the worst possible scenario, the pain and suffering that comes with the dreaded “c-word.”  I decided to call the doctor.

I had thought that they may tell me to give it a couple of weeks to see if it would go away…maybe it was hormonal.  But that’s not what the nurse practitioner said.  Instead, she asked if I could make it in at 11:15 today.  I thought about my son and his health but knew I had to go.  So I said I would be there and phoned my mom to see if she minded to watch the kids for an hour.  Thankfully, Jace woke up feeling better than he has over the past week and he was excited to go to grandma’s.  I went to the doctor and again, I thought that maybe she wouldn’t notice the lump during the examination…that maybe it’s my imagination.  But no, she immediately found it and agreed that it was there and it is not normal.  

It’s odd…the feeling that I got at that moment.   I try to be very logical in life but that is not my natural place.  Naturally I’m more emotional, artistic and passionate.  But those skills don’t serve me well in times like these.  So when the doctor explained that my lack of family history in breast cancer and my age are good indicators that the lump could be non-cancerous, I just sat and listened trying to not react in one way or the other.  She told me it could be a number of things and that she wouldn’t jump to cancer.  It could be hormones, caffeine, a cyst, a non-cancerous tumor….or it could be cancer.  She said we would schedule an appointment for a mammogram (I didn’t think I had that coming for some time yet…bummer) and an ultrasound.  As she left the room so I could dress, I felt total and complete shock.  This is not what I expected today.  As I worked with the receptionist, I held back tears and tried to act normal.  Thankfully, the hospital can fit me in tomorrow, so my wait will not be long.

My husband called as I was leaving the office and I broke down.  This is scary.  There’s no other way to lay it out there.  I think I’m going to be fine.  But knowing ALL of the possibilities, how can a person in this position not be scared?  I went home to an empty house and sat down in my living room on the steps.  I put my hands together and I prayed.  I pray everyday, but today, in this moment of helplessness, I felt closer to God than I have in a long time.  I prayed that God is with me over the next day, that He helps me to be strong.  I prayed that He helps me to do His will and accept His will, whatever that may be.  And I prayed that if it is His will, that my tests tomorrow turn out a positive result.  And if His will is the opposite, if I get bad news tomorrow, that He is with me to help me take the next steps.

The truth is that whatever is in my body is already there.  Good, bad or indifferent, it is there.  It is only by God’s grace that I’m even here now to write this.  Tomorrow is not guaranteed.  I have been so blessed in my life with more than I deserve.  I pray that I’m given the grace to grow old with my husband and my children but I don’t know if that is my path.  My blog is named “No Luck Necessary.”  Have you wondered why?  It’s not because I think I’m so great that I don’t need luck.  It’s because I don’t believe in luck at all.  Everything I have and everything I am is a product of God’s grace.  I have tested this theory throughout my life, pushing my limits.  I am living proof of His grace for us.  Now, today, I pray that He has a little more left for me.

I’m not sure if I should be sharing this.  The only people I’ve even spoken about this to are my husband, my mom, and my mother-in-law.  I hesitate to share this with all of you.  It is so deeply personal.  I started this blog three months ago because I had an overwhelming calling to write.  Something inside me kept saying that I needed to write.  I don’t know why or if it will ever develop into anything more than a past-time, a hobby, a therapeutic outlet. But if one person reads this and relates, one person goes home and does that self-examination tonight, one person has hope and strength when they’re in the same position in the years to come, then I’ll be happy with my decision to put it all out there.  If you are reading this, please add me to your prayer list tonight, along with all of those people in the world awaiting test results or those who have gotten the test results back and are battling for their lives.  There are so many who need prayers and I believe in the power of prayer. By God’s grace, I’ll look back on this day in the weeks, months, and years to come and it will be a passing memory, a false alarm.  But only by God’s grace, there is no other way.

Blessings in Disguise???

Wait…what?  It’s only Tuesday???

This has already been the longest week…ever. I was coming off the high of a wonderful, fun-with-my-kiddos, relaxing, house-in-order, everything-right-with-the-world kind of weekend on Sunday evening.  It was about 10:30 (which came too soon with this wicked ‘spring forward’ time change).  I realized that my husband had never returned my keys when he had moved my car into the garage that afternoon.  Trying to be sure I would be ready for the rush to the door on Monday morning, I decided to check with him, “Where did you put my keys?”  He had thought he had set them on the kitchen counter.  He was wrong.

An intense search ensued; we looked for my keys until midnight.  We never found them.  This shouldn’t have been a big deal, right?  I mean, I can always pull out my spare set, right?  WRONG!  My spare stopped working about six months ago (darn computerized cars) and I never got it fixed.  Ugh.  Hind sight really is 20/20.

That was Sunday and it is now Tuesday.  Still no keys.  Still no car.  My car has been towed to the  mechanic’s.  It’s been there since Monday around 3:00.  I have realized a lot of things over the last two days while not having a car.  a) It’s stressful…planning for dropping my kids at school and childcare…getting to work…coordinating car seats with those who are kindly willing to help you out.  It takes a lot of planning.  b) You never want to go anywhere until you can’t. c) I’m glad I live two blocks from my work.  d) You are really happy when it’s sunny out when you don’t have a car!

I also woke up late on Monday (most likely due to the late night search party Sunday night and time change) and I missed my workout entirely.  Tuesday I also woke up late and only got in half of my work out.  Things are super crazy at work and I’m working as hard as I can from the moment I walk in the door to the moment I leave.

These things…these little things are what have made me feel undone this week.  These are the moments I said to myself “You have got to be KIDDING me!!!”  And now I sit back and gain some perspective and I realize they are nothing.

You see, my son has to be at the hospital tomorrow at 9:30 to register for his first surgery.  He is having a tonsillectomy.  I fought having this done for a while but after six separate strep infections over the last year, I gave in to seeing an ENT.  When the specialist shared with me that the real danger of strep is that the infection can pass to a heart valve and it can then be deadly, my heart skipped a beat.  I shared with the doctor that Jace actually has a heart valve defect and he responded that Jace’s defect is all the more reason to move forward with this surgery.  So here we are, three weeks later and tomorrow is THE DAY.

As I spent this evening with my son, I let him play a little longer outside before making him come in.  When he asked to go for a bike ride, I didn’t hesitate to say yes.  I brought him to the movie store and let him pick out all of the movies and games he wanted (these should come in handy during his recovery).  I surprised him with a walk to the ice cream shop and I listened intently as he jabbered to my husband and me all the way home.  And now at this moment, up past his bedtime, he’s playing a video game and I can’t muster the courage to make him go to bed.  I know I don’t want him to lie in bed and think of tomorrow the way I will when the lights go out.  So I’ll just let the bedtime thing go for tonight.

I know Jace will be fine tomorrow.  There are risks anytime someone is put under for a surgery and I don’t take that lightly.  Jace’s heart defect and the fact that we have to have a letter from his cardiologist before the ENT will perform surgery on him, makes me uneasy.  But honestly, if Jace’s heart was perfectly formed, I would still be nervous.  No one wants to see their baby in pain.  I’m nervous and my heart hurts just thinking that he will have to endure the fear of the unknown and the pain that I know will follow (I had my tonsils removed when I was seven…I know!).

As I reflect on my stressful week, on all of the moments I wanted to pull my hair out and didn’t, as I think about all of the quirky things that have happened this week to keep me distracted, I am starting to think that this chaos was a gift.  I didn’t have time to think about Jace’s surgery, about tomorrow.  I didn’t have time to focus on my troubles.  I was kept on my toes by one twist in my week and then the next.  Have you ever thought that?  That maybe the adversity you’re facing is a blessing in disguise…that maybe without the misfortune you wouldn’t make it through something even more challenging?

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In the moment, I didn’t think that my week could get much worse.  And then, just like that, I was strolling down the sidewalk with my son, ice cream in our bellies, and my heart was so full that I couldn’t even recall what I had been stressed about before.  I’m so thankful for my son.  He is my first born.  He’s so different than I ever expected him to be when I became a mother…he’s so much better, more beautiful, more amazing.  Tomorrow we will go through another new and, most likely, unpleasant experience together.  There are no words to express how I wish I could shield him from this…but I can’t.  So instead, I will be there for him.  I will hold his hand.  I will pray for him and anxiously wait for the doctors to return him to me safe and sound.  The past two days were challenging, but none of that matters.  If you have your health and the health of your family, you have everything to be grateful for…tonight, even with no car, even with slacking on my workout routine, even with getting a little behind on my housework, I am the luckiest woman in the world because I have this sweet little boy by my side ready to watch a movie with me.  Looks like we’ll be missing bedtime by quite a bit tonight!

 

 

 

Get it, Girl…A Guide to My Get It Done Weekend

I’m not naturally the most tidy person.  My husband would back me up on this.  When we were first married, I would marvel at his compulsion to straighten every rug in his vicinity or to wipe out the bathroom sink each and every time he brushed his teeth.  These types of things did not even occur to me.  But as I’ve gotten older (sigh), as I expend more time and energy picking up, wiping up, and scrubbing after these tiny little human beings I call my children….as I take more pride in my home and my belongings that I work so hard for…I’m finding I have changed.  The little things bother me now and unfortunately, with working full time and having two small children, the small things tend to accumulate into big things very quickly.

I wish I could say I have it all together, that I do a load of laundry every day, that there aren’t dishes in my sink, that my tub is clean…but that would be a big FAT lie.  Although my home isn’t a pig’s sty, it also isn’t immaculate.  I visit the houses of others and find their homes spotless and smelling fresh and clean and I’m jealous…and confused.  How do they do it????

I set out with a mission this weekend to get my house in order.  This was the first weekend that wasn’t loaded down with activities and I decided I was going to make the most of it.  I’m a visual person so I worked up two visual aids to keep me accountable and on point.  First I made a time table of my day.  See below.

Please note that I do NOT typically wake up a 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday but I had a lot of ground to cover.  A girls gotta do what a girls gotta do!  When calculating my time, I tried to account for the day-to-day stuff like working out…eating…blah, blah.  It sounds ridiculous but when I get focused in a cleaning frenzy, I can go without meals.  So it’s important to plan these things into my day.  My blocks of time ranged from one to two hours and consisted of the following:

• Start laundry and workout
• Change laundry and make breakfast
• Change laundry and clean dishes and kitchen
• Change laundry and clean bathrooms
• Change laundry, pull sheets and comforters for washing and clean bedrooms
• Lunch time! Clean up kitchen
• Change laundry. Jera’s nap time. Clean living room
• Change laundry. Floors, floors, floors!
• Shower. Live life.

Now to make sure I stayed on focus, I made a second, complimentary list that broke down the chores within each room (with a nice little check box that I could mark as I accomplished each task…see, told you I was a visual person).  See below:

This is how it went.  My dream list.  If I could accomplish everything within the given room, this is what I would accomplish…

Kitchen

1. Collect dishes from around the house and wash, dry AND PUT AWAY
2. Organize the Tupperware (would it be wrong to say God-forsaken Tupperware???) cabinet.  Throw away Tupperware with no matching lids!
3. Wipe down counter tops, table and dust the hutch
4. Clean out the refrigerator
5. Make shopping list
6. Clean out closet and pantry

Bathrooms

1. Clean bathtub, sinks, toilets and counter tops
2. Clean mirror
3. Review closet organization

Bedrooms

1. Remove and replace sheet, blankets and pillowcases
2. Put away and organize toys
3. Polish furniture and clean TVs
4. Organize shoes in closet (this is becoming a REAL PROBLEM AREA)

Living Room

1. Pick up toys and misc.
2. Dust furniture and fireplace
3. Clean TV and other glass
4. Clean and organize basket, trunk and closet

Floors

1. Vacuum living room and bedrooms
2. Sweep and mop bathrooms
3. Sweep and mop kitchen and hallways

I made it through my day and found my lists SOOOOO helpful.  I didn’t complete every task (I got through roughly half) but I found the error of my past ways.  Being on a time schedule, I was forced to leave a room before I finished up my “task list”.  I have found that typically when I clean, I get distracted very easily.  I have good intentions of making  my way through the whole house but what happens is that I start in one room and I will come across something that is driving me nuts.  For example, I was full-force ready to dive into our closets in the kitchen and start to organize and de-clutter when I found that my hour was up and it was time to move to the bathrooms.  Without my time schedule, I would have started on my closet, which would have led to me cleaning my hutch too and I would have HAD to wipe down the cabinets.

I tend to need each room to be perfect before I move on to the next room.  And because of this…I NEVER MAKE IT TO THE NEXT ROOM!!!  This is so unbelievably true.  This is why I feel like my house is never clean.  I can never make it through the whole house.  I get one room really, sparkling, smell-good, eat off the floor clean and the rest of the house is still a mess and I’m out of time.  By the time I make it to the next room (days later), the first room is dirty again.  So this weekend, thanks to my time schedule, I got the dishes washed, dried and put away, I got the counter tops washed down and I made my shopping list.  And the rest of my kitchen (even the horror of a Tupperware cabinet) all stayed the same.

The good news, no, the great news, is that I made it through my whole house!!!  Yay!  And yes, I did celebrate with a big, delicious steak on Saturday night.  I pay myself in copious amounts of protein.

Okay, back to the matter at hand, I need to start doing something different.  I’ve been turned-on to a website called flylady.com.  It’s all about keeping your house tidy and taking care of yourself at the same time.  I’m only on day two of this big, glorious plan laid out on the website but I’m starting by believing it’s a possibility.  I’m believing that it is possible to work, to be a great wife and mom, to not be overwhelmed, to do a little every day and not allow things to pile up, to not feel like I’m constantly behind…cue the music…“Then I saw her face, now I’m a believer. Not a trace, of doubt in my mind. I’m in love, and I’m a believer. I couldn’t leave her if I tried.” (Yes, I’m bobbing my head while I type.)

I will update at a later time as I move forward on this clean house journey.  Fingers crossed.  By the way, after this weekend of cleaning and getting my right foot forward, I’m feeling great about starting this upcoming week.  I hope you are too.  Let’s have a week of getting up on time every day, being high energy, full of faith and putting positive energy into the world.  Let’s have a week that pushes us forward to the people we are made to be.  Ready,set, GO!

Chew Like Crazy

I’ve always heard people say “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” This phrase creeps into my mind on weeks like this week…weeks of pure panic and stress. I’m a young mother of two who works full time and loves to be involved…so of course my life is INSANE. I knew this month would be a rough ride and it hasn’t disappointed.

My week thus far has gone something like this:

 

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Every Day:

5:00 a.m. – Workout

6:00 – 8:00 a.m. – Shower, hair, makeup, dress the kids, morning chores, drop daughter to  the sitter, drop son to school and get to work praying not only that I’m not late, but also that I’m early enough to get a decent parking space.

8:00 a.m.- 5:20 p.m. – WORK.

5:20 – 9:00 p.m. – Dinner, Homework, Piano Homework, Bath time, Bed time stories, Laundry, Dishes….Husband

Monday

5:45 – 6:45 p.m. – Daughter to gymnastics

6:00 – 7:00 p.m. – Son to batting practice

Tuesday

6:30 – 7:00 p.m. – Tiger Cub Den Meeting

Wednesday

6:00 – 8:00 – Church duties for Lenten Season

Thursday

5:45 – 6:15 p.m. – Son’s piano lessons

6:00 – 7:00 p.m. – Scout Committee Meeting

For better or worse, this is a typical week in the Hafele House.  We live full throttle and most days I love it.  But this week has been a mess.  Last weekend was even crazier than usual, jam-packed with activities and I didn’t get to prep for the upcoming week.  My prep time is vital to surviving this modern day lifestyle.  Prep is essential to “having it all”.  So by Thursday morning when I discovered my husband was down to his last pair of underpants, my kids had no matching socks, we were out of fresh bath towels, there were dirty dishes by the sink and loads of laundry sitting in baskets staring at me…I knew that all of this chaos was a direct result of not prepping properly for my week to come.  Someday I will learn that above all other important things, I must make time to prepare myself. 

I thought it would be fun to share a few of my pointers with my readers.  These are the little things that save me from weeks like the one I just had.

Here goes…these are my rules for biting off more than I can chew:

• How are you spending your time?  Are your activities ones that center around your interests and those of your family/children/friends?  If you find yourself devoting a lot of time and energy toward something that just isn’t something you love, don’t feel guilty for moving on.  The fact is that we’re all busy and our time is limited, so my advice is to be selective with where you spend it.  Today I do not volunteer for any organization unless it is related directly to my family and/or my children.  It’s a win/win when I get to volunteer and spend extra time with my little loves!
• Plan ahead.  This is one of the biggest factors for  determining the kind of week I’m going to have.  I can expect to not come directly home any night of the week.  I can expect to be spending my lunch hour running my preschooler back and forth to school or planning for our next scout den meeting or Sunday school class.  So on Sunday, I take the time to plan and prep as much as possible for the upcoming week, starting with my meals for the work week.  I have a meal plan which my husband is aware of and can step in and help out with depending on who makes it home first.  I prepare as much food as possible ahead of time to make week nights just a little easier. I also prepare and package all of my lunches for the week.  In addition to being handy, this keeps me healthy and eating right even when I’m stressed for time.
• Plan ahead – Part Deux.  I set out my workout clothes the evening before in my bathroom.  It’s harder to skip a workout when you know your clothes will be taunting you after you’ve slept in and decided to be lazy.  I also hang my outfit for the next workday in the bathroom so it’s ready to hop into directly after my post-workout shower. And I’m less likely to crawl into my frumpy, old, go-to outfit when I plan ahead.  I mean who really feels like wearing a pencil skirt at 6:00 in the morning.  Not me!  But at 10 p.m. it always feels like a good idea for the next day.
• Buy a planner (a paper planner) and use it.  Yes, an old fashioned, pen and paper, prehistoric, like the kind your grandma uses, type of planner and write everything down in it.  I wouldn’t know if I was coming or going (seriously) without mine.
• Ask for help.  Yes, when I need help, I ask for it.  If that means asking my mom to watch the kids for an extra 20 minutes or asking the husband to pick up an extra chore or household duty, I ask for what I need.  I’ve found I have to be direct about what I need.  Shocker…but no one can read my mind.  It took me a while to figure that one out.
• Sit out when you need to. Tonight was that night for me.  I had to cancel out of my Thursday night Scout Committee Meeting…I hate to not make it to a meeting, but when my household has exploded around me, I always try to remember to put first thing first.  And my family and my home always come first. Always.
• Lastly, CHEW.  Yes, I said CHEW.  Chew like hell.  I say bite off more that you can chew, have your drink nearby just in case you need help washing it down, have a good friend on hand that knows the heimlich maneuver (you know, just in case), AND CHEW, CHEW, CHEW.  A full, busy life is a happy life for me.  Sometimes it is overwhelming but it is also rewarding.  So I choose to chew.

So these simple things are what help me survive being a working, volunteering, crazy mom.  What are your secret weapons of survival?  Share them with the women in your life…goodness knows, we all need the  help.  You never know what will work for you, so be flexible.  I will be back on the ball this weekend, prepping and planning and hopefully having a smoother week next week.  But all’s well that ends well, and I survived!

 

 

Getting Candid on Control

Let’s talk about control today, or more so, the illusion of control and how it affects our lives. There was a time I thought I had control of my life. Unknowingly, I even believed I had control of the lives that surrounded me. You see, I was a “fixer”. I spent a great deal of time concerning myself in other people’s problems and offering them solutions (sometimes wanted and other times unsolicited). I imagine that most people go through their entire lives this way, as a fixer, and think it is an admirable quality. I know I did. I cared. I gave great advice (in my opinion – HA!). I knew the right thing to do in every scenario. If those I love would just listen to me, our lives would be so much better, calmer and more peaceful. I didn’t only bestow this fixing “privilege” unto myself. Those around me often came to me…pulling my opinion from me, my advice, my thoughts.

I don’t know how many of you reading this have played the role of the fixer, but I suspect there are some guilty parties out there. You may be the fixer at home, with your family; at work; with your friends; in your church. The opportunities to fix others are limitless. We can take up endless amounts of time and energy focused other people’s problems. But should we???

Here’s what life has taught me:

the only thing I know for sure is that I am in control of nothing, not one single thing…I know nothing with absolute certainty, not one single thing…and I’m okay with that.

Wait, scratch that, I’m actually thankful for that. So how did I lose this so-called sense of control??? How did I stop being a (eek!) “know-it-all”???? I changed quickly and slowly. Hmmm…I’m not making a lot of sense, huh?

Let me tell you about it. I had plans. At 22, for the most part, life had gone according to my plan. I had somehow been able to run wild through my teens and still hold all appearances together. I could test the limits of my safety and well-being, and still maintain a 4.0 GPA in college and work full-time to support myself. It may be surprising to some that know me today but I had a wild streak a mile wide. I guess I share this part of my life with you because without even realizing it, I had become a master at manipulating appearances (CONTROL).  If the world saw a bright, successful, young person, and I could do whatever it was I felt like in my down time, then I was in control and doing okay. As an adult, I don’t take these experiences lightly. I don’t spend a lot of time on regrets because my choices led me to where I am today. But I can now see how lost I was then, how dangerous my decisions were. Looking back, being a parent to two young kiddos of my own, I’m scared half to death. Can I spare them the pain of these growing and learning experiences by allowing them to learn from my mistakes???? Okay, I realize the answer is NO. But I do know these life experiences will help me to empathize and understand the mistakes they might make and give me the hope that they will find their way on their own (with God’s help…not mine!).

I digress. Back to the point at hand. So this illusion of control served me well through my wild teens but when I decided I was ready to move forward with life and settle down…that was when I lost control. Ironic, huh?

I blogged about my miscarriage before but I come back to it again here because that was the first moment that I realized I wasn’t in control. I felt betrayed by my own body. I couldn’t fix my own problem and that loss shattered my sense that I could fix things. Shortly before I miscarried I also lost a dear friend to suicide. Death in general, but especially suicide, is a loss that takes the wind from your sails. How do you not see the signs? How badly did I fail my friend? How did I not have the answers?

During this time my life was changing very quickly. My path was straightening out but the paths of many around me were still twisting and turning. I was at a true turning point in my life and I took the losses I had suffered and decided I wanted more…to feel more, to be more, to give more. In losing control, in having my life turned to chaos, I was given a gift. When I realized I didn’t have the answers, I felt as though a weight had been lifted from me. When I didn’t have to navigate for myself or anyone else, I could begin making decisions based on what my higher power directed me to do and not on what I expected the outcome of an action would be. When my life was in shambles, I was able to give up and rely on my higher power to lead me…and I began to feel real, genuine happiness and contentment for the first time in my life.

It didn’t happen quickly. People still came to me for answers (and some still do…I was a fixer for a long time and people around me still expect me to play this role), but today I can consider their situation, hear them out, and let them know that although I don’t have the answers, I do love and support them. In all honesty, this has made me a better friend. When I’m not busy trying to solve someone’s problem, I’m a much better listener. I’m more compassionate and understanding. And I have peace. I’m not in the middle of ten different whirlwinds that don’t belong to me. I’m spending the time I used to invest in fixing and I’m focused on me and what IS mine. My life, my children, my husband, my household, our happiness. I have grown to love being “out of control” and “unknowing”…it gives me the freedom to really live.

Are you a fixer? Are you trying to control another person or situation? Have you given up your peace and happiness while pursuing something that is not yours to worry about in the first place? I encourage you to let it go today. Throw up your hands and give up, knowing that when you let go, you allow for God to carry you through life.  Life is joyous. Life is crushing. It’s a journey that is impossible to figure out…so don’t try. Lose control…you’ll be thankful you did.