Can You Hear Me Now?

What a crazy weekend. I am feeling pretty worn out right now. Would like to go to bed except that Bekah is still awake. We made an attempt to go to Randall Oaks petting zoo today. As we arrived, we did a group bathroom break. We staggered it and I was actually able to go to the bathroom on my own (a rarity).

While in the bathroom I got a visitor in the form of Bekah. I exited the bathroom to find Brian standing with Doug in the stroller. Unfortunately, Bekah's trip to the bathroom had no authorization from Brian. After that, we made a not-so-graceful exit (without seeing the animals).

The kids have really been struggling to listen lately. I know for Jeremy there's a component of his sensory issues that impacts his ability to listen. Bekah has no such issues. She has a compulsion to be near me at all possible times. It's been like that since she was a baby. She has always wanted to "keep an eye on me" or "keep me company" (her words). It is cute but can be cloying and annoying as well.

I have been told (ad nauseum) that these years will pass soon, that the kids are no longer going to want to be with me. I try, as much as possible, to live in the moment. I hold them when I can, even if I've got laundry to do or the kitchen is being a mess. I read to them unless I'm in the middle of working or cooking a meal.

It's a tough thing to do, though, day-to-day. It's even tougher when I feel like I'm talking and no one is listening. I am at the root of this problem, though. Today was the first time we actually left a place because they didn't listen. I suck, I fall short, I don't excel at setting and keeping boundaries with the kids. I overthreaten and lack in follow through. I know this is ultimately hurting them.

The problem is, I'm almost chronically exhausted. I don't get enough sleep, my energy has a million demands on it, the list of things to do is neverending. Trying to impose boundaries, rules, consequences, is one more demand. Though it's important, it takes resolve and consistency, two things lacking in the life of the chronically tired.

I need to be better, though. It's not fair to expect that my kids should listen if I don't require it all the time. If I'm spotty in requiring it, they will be spotting in fulfilling my requests. Yes, it takes some extra work. Yes, most kids this age struggle with listening. I know when I talk about this with other moms, it's a pretty common complaint. I don't mean to make it sound like my kids are good-for-nothing hooligans. They aren't. They are human beings with shortcomings just like me.

Maybe that's what makes it so tough to be their mom. It would be easier if they acted like robots, always listening to what I said and mechanically carrying out my requests. The flip side is I'd miss out on the humor. They really do say some funny things. In the end, I'm grateful for their humanity because it stretches me to be a better person.

A Day at the (Lake) Beach

I am not sure what I want to talk about tonight. It was a really long day. I was invited by friends to Three Oaks today. Crystal Lake has done an above average job in crafting recreation areas. They used an old quarry, filled it in with water, hemmed it in with hiking/running trails, and opened it to the public. It has a splash pad, small park for the kids, swings, a Culver's, paddle boats, sailboats, etc. It's beautifully landscaped, kept up well and my kids love it.

The problem is that the kids have a hard time there. The beach and the splash pad are separate from one another. We have a tough time deciding, as a group, where we should be. There tends to be disagreements about whether we should be in the lake or at the splash pad. I don't like taking them by myself. Doug is not ready to sit still yet, Jeremy gets upset and bolts and Bekah doesn't understand that she can't visit the splash pad on her own.

I met two friends and their kids there. My friend's son and Bekah were in preschool together. She has kind of a crush on him (and he enjoys her as well). He is Jeremy's age and, as it turns out, they were fast friends as well. We were late to get there--they open at 10, we got there at 11:30. I am attending a Bible study this summer and it's from 9-11 on Thursdays.

Of course, it's not as simple as just showing up. I started prepping for this excursion last night. I packed a substantial lunch, sippy cups, etc. I made sure the beach towels were washed and in the dryer before I came upstairs. I hung the bathing suits so they would be dry today. I asked for prayer from my best friend. I knew it was going to be an undertaking and I knew I would be stressed. I asked her to pray for strength for me and safety for the kids.

Then there was the frenzy this morning. We've fallen out of the habit of getting out of the house before 9, so we were working against that. Then I had to make breakfast, get everyone dressed, shoes on, etc. We were late to Bible study (of course). It was a good session about friendship, but I spent most of the time worrying.

Before we left the church, we stopped in the bathroom and the real work began. I had to strip everyone down, slather them with sunscreen, put on their bathing suits and keep them contained so I could do the same to myself.

At this point, I was already sweating. I sweat easily--it's partly my weight it's partly just I sweat a lot. The kids had a lot of excitement and were bouncing off the walls--it makes it tough to dress people acting like human pinballs. I did my best and then we were off. Luckily it's just a hop, skip and a jump to Three Oaks from the church.

We made it and started the arduous journey from the van to the beach (not very long in distance but challenging). Doug's stroller served as the beast of burden for the bag with food, bag with clothes, bag with toys, my wallet, keys, iPhone and Doug. It was helpful to transport but it's tough to push it on the beach.

The joy of being there, though, is immediate. The kids ran to the water as soon as we hit the beach. I had a tough time finding my friends until I walked to the water line. I had already set up our stuff, so I headed back and muscled the stroller to it's final resting spot. I laid out a towel, got Doug out and got to it.

There were a few times when my heart sank into my stomach. I am fortunate, in spades, that my friends were there. Bekah took off once for the splash pad without telling me. She did it just after we had been in the water, so I spent a few minutes thinking she had drowned. I didn't yell at her when I found her, but I was firm in saying that she was not allowed to run away.

We migrated as a group to the splash pad, much to Jeremy's disappointment. My friend wanted us to go as a group so that she and I (and our other friend) could talk to one another. Jeremy loved, loved, loved, swimming in the lake. It took some coaxing to convince him to join us. Everything was going pretty well. I was swinging Doug, Bekah was swinging and then my friend motioned to me from across the way. "Where's Jeremy," I heard her ask. I couldn't find him. My heart sank again. I started searching for him until I heard, "Mrs. Patronik, please report to the lifeguard station."

The irony is that I'm not Mrs. Patronik. I didn't take Brian's name when we married. It's a story for another blog entry, but suffice to say he ribs me about it every once in a while. I didn't do it because I don't love him, but we tease each other about my stubborn defiance to not make the change. So today, when I heard the call I had to laugh. I told him about it and he said, "did you say to yourself, Gloria (my MIL) isn't here, why are they calling her?" I laughed and said, "yes, I didn't go get my son because they used the wrong name."

I did get him and we had a conversation about not taking off. "All those people were trying to help me find you," he told me. I reminded him that he couldn't just leave without telling me.

It all confirmed for me that I have no business taking the kids there by myself. We had a blast and the kids utterly wore themselves out. When we got home, I put Doug down for a nap, set Bekah up to play on the computer and then went down to the couch and closed my eyes. Correction, my eyes would not stay open. I didn't wake up until Brian got home at 7 and then I discovered that Bekah had as well fallen asleep.

Brian had to coax Doug awake (he was not at all pleased with the decision) and we endured a 5-minute long tantrum. I had no energy to cook dinner, so Brian made himself some salad, I heated up pancakes for Doug and Jeremy and Bekah declined to eat anything. I also wasn't super hungry, so I didn't eat either.

The beauty is that I knew Jeremy would go straight to sleep tonight. The beast is that, as I type this, Bekah is keeping me company. Yep, 10:45 and she's still awake. I will send her to bed soon. I wouldn't normally allow her to be up, but her nap was as extensive as mine (and as late).

In her words, her favorite part of the day was "letting you see me flip underwater. And next time, you need to look at my feet underwater closely. And look for my feet to stick out. My favorite part was finding you."

She is a riot, honestly. I enjoy that she has fun when I pay attention to her. I was impressed by her swimming skills, honestly. We haven't done very many swim lessons so it's cool to see some natural talent there. Jeremy had fun wearing his goggles (that Santa brought him) in the lake for the first time. I'm actually pretty impressed that he has kept track of them for so long before actually using them. It is important to note that he wore them around his neck to school for almost a month straight when he first got them. You never can be too careful, right?

All in all, I consider today to be a learning experience. If I ever get brave enough to take them on my own, my friend suggested leaving if anyone takes off without telling me. She said that it would probably take three visits with three exits before the kids would be broken of it. She's probably right, but I'm not sure if I'm up for all of that prep and short visits. For now, I will wait until the kids get a bit older to try it on my own again.

(Although....the lure of a solid night's sleep for Jeremy may be enough to coax me back into the water. Just saying. It's just that significant.)

Rule No. 62-Don't Take Yourself So Damn Seriously

I don't have a lot to say today, honestly. It has been a long few days. I've been staying up obscenely late playing a stupid computer game. My days have been starting obscenely early because the kids have been crawling into bed with us late at night. I've been burning the candle from both ends.

Even more, I've been ramping up the amount of cardio I'm doing. I'm trying hard not to nap everyday. I'm working so hard on everything that I'm just exhausted.

Today in particular I was also grumpy. There was nothing motivating the grumpiness, it was just that kind of day. We spent the morning at Gail Borden Library. I don't know what it is about that place, but I start into a flop sweat as soon as I walk in. I spent all of our time there sweating and making sure I knew where Doug was. That made me sweat more.

We got home and it was just the little stuff that got under my skin. My kids tend to make a request for something, say a beverage, then give me no time to complete the request. It's even worse because there's typically three requests in queue and they're all asking for status reports. On a good day, I give them the company line--"I'm not a magician." Today, I yelled.

Then, the non-stop Mommy show just wouldn't stop. I always wanted to be this popular, but it's actually quite exhausting. I have not been refilling my batteries enough to be able to give as much love as my kids need.

It's funny what the breaking point can be on days like today. It can be something so small. Like, for example, taking out the recycling.

Tuesday nights are rushed, normally. I take my kids to my parents, then meet up with Brian in a church basement. Tonight was different. My parents couldn't take the kids, so I was waiting for Brian to get home. It's garbage day tomorrow so I wanted to get the cans to the curb before he got home. We have a separate recycling can and it tends to fill up quickly. I wanted to fit everything possible into the bag to save myself a trip.

And then the empty chicken container hit the ground. I'm not even sure why it upset me, but I was tired and cranky and didn't want to bend over to pick up one more thing. I did pick it up, though, and the thought that crossed my mind was, "my life sucks."

All there was left to do was laugh at myself. Really, my life sucks? Having to bend over to pick up an empty carton from a chicken qualified my life for suckage? Cause it was so tough to do in my air-conditioned house that has food in the refrigerator, clean drinking water coming out of the spout and a toilet? I'm officially richer than most of the people in the world. "Congratulations, Sue, you're officially the biggest spoiled brat in the house."

So I chuckled to myself and took out the trash. Hey, tomorrow's another day, huh?

Tipping Point

I'm experiencing a bit of post-holiday blues. Brian has been home since early Wednesday afternoon. It's lovely to have him around, really. I get to sleep in (or at least take a mostly uninterrupted nap). I get to actually accomplish, from start to finish, simple household tasks. It's a little slice of heaven.

Now it's back to the grind. Mondays are our heaviest day of activity. Jeremy has OT and Speech, Bekah has dance and I spent two hours in the van or sweating my tookus off at the dance studio. It's good for Doug, though, because he ends up taking a nice, long nap.

Today was a lot of fun. I actually channeled my mom today. It was a perfect summer day for playing in the pool. There was no reason to sit in the A/C and I gave my kids an option--nap or play outside. For them, it was a no-brainer. I will say, though, that Bekah tried some pretty tough negotiations. I was a brick wall, but a lesser man would have crumbled.

I put Doug down for a nap and then I fiddled on the computer for a while. I could hear the big kids playing in the pool and they were having a blast. I finally went to lie down and texted Brian, asking him to wake me an hour later.

I found out, when I was awakened, that the kids had played in the pool for almost two hours. Brian had joined them and had managed to wear himself out. We were starting to reach the tipping point, I realized.

There is a sweet spot, in parenting, where you try to maximize your kids energy expenditure while not wearing yourself out so much that you can't guide them to bed. I spend a lot of time trying to wear my kids out. I am finding that water leverages the expenditure. If my kids are in water, they are going to play just as hard as when they are on dry land. The bonus is that they are using more energy than they realize! Awesome!

The problem is that you can't see the fruits of your labor until bedtime. For us, bedtime is a special kind of crazy. It starts with the initial shock of having to go to bed. Our kids have been put to bed every night they've been outside my womb. Every night, though, there is shock and consternation that they are being asked to end their day.

I think Gru says it best, in Despicable Me. There is a scene where he is putting the girls to bed. They are still full of energy and bouncing around the room. Gru is trying to coax them them into bed. They exclaim, "but we're not tired," to which he responds, "well, I'm tired." And that's the point of bedtime. The parents have come to the part of the day where their compassion, their patience and their sanity has evaporated. There was a tiny bit left after dinner but it disappears in a puff of smoke.

Typically, Brian puts the kids to bed. They all go upstairs together, brush their teeth and watch a couple of kids shows. Doug gets put in his crib and the big kids get tucked into their beds. We have Jeremy, who needs to have 18 blankets on top of him (it's part of his sensory concerns). Bekah has one blanket. I've even stopped tucking them in because they spend the next half an hour acting out any of a number of Nick Jr. shows. Then, after that, starts the parade downstairs. Mostly, it's Jeremy, telling us his sister has fallen asleep. He likes to come downstairs and snuggle on the couch with us. It actually helps him a bit because he gets the compression he needs from wedging in between us and the couch.

Bekah will sometimes make appearances too. She uses her most pathetic voice to convey how awful it is that we're imposing a barbaric construct like bedtime on her. She begs and pleads with us to let her stay with us, downstairs.

So it's not always immediately evident that you hit the sweet spot of activity. It's a delayed response, but it's so blissful. Like tonight. I played with the kids in the pool, too. I had a sense that just the small amount of activity would help get them over the edge.

And I was right. 9 PM, I'm working out and I see Brian turn the corner from the stairs. Usually, there is a bevy of sounds that follows him (the sounds of live-action Nick Jr.). Tonight? Silence. We had no visitors, we had no pleas for freedom, no snuggling, no protracted negotiations. Just me and Brian, working out and enjoying the 10 o'clock news.

I must remember to use water more often!!

The High Cost of Blissful Ignorance

I watch the Daily Show pretty religiously, but Brian and I DVR it and then catch up when we have free time at night. Since we've started working out together at night, we don't have a lot of free time. I did, however, catch a recent episode that featured Michael Moss. Moss is an author of the book, Salt, Sugar, Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us. 

I have been pretty public about my ongoing struggle with my weight. I started overeating as a kid. I have belonged to groups for people trying to recover from food obsessions. I know that talking about food addiction is not a popular thing, but I have posited for years that it has been exactly that for me.

I am especially vulnerable to sugar. It is tough for me, once I have even one bite of something sweet, to stop eating it. I remember sneaking Zingers, a Dolly Madison treat, when I was a kid. My mom used them as treats in her classroom and we weren't supposed to eat them. The allure of chocolate and cream was too much and I took to sneaking one at a time. One day in particular, I took two of them. I started eating them and then realized my mom was home. In order to escape detection, I stuffed them both in my mouth and promptly started choking.

My mom found me eating them and had to administer the Heimlich. Years later, having struggled with addictions that are more commonly recognized, I can tell you the behavior was the same. I was being secretive because I knew I was doing wrong. I was more interested in engaging in the dangerous behavior than in setting it aside for a time when I could do it undetected.

In college, I would go to Jewel, buy the value packs of chocolate chip cookies and eat it by myself in an entire setting. I would swear to myself, as I lay in bed feeling bloated and hungover from the sugar, that tomorrow would be different. I would eat nothing but salad, I would walk nonstop for three hours, I would never look at a cookie again.

Tomorrow would come and my brain would scream for only one thing; more cookies. No matter how hard I tried, the allure, the taste, the smell of sugary treats would get me every time.

I know that most people see weight loss as a matter of having willpower. The problem is that with most addictions, the prescription is to be abstinent. You cannot abstain from food all together. Food must be consumed in order to sustain life.

The book is a searing expose on the food companies attempt to get the most possible dollars from consumers. The science is actually the most interesting part of the book. Food companies spend a lot of time and money trying to figure out how consumer's brains work. The findings are quite grotesque. Sugar mimics the effect of cocaine; fat the effect of opiates.

Upon reading it, there was some sense of relief for me. I am not crazy, after all. Yes, I have to accept responsibility for making healthy choices. At the same time, I have the deck decidedly stacked against me. Sugar is in almost every food I see in the supermarket. I can't avoid all sugar, although I am finding out ways of being smart about it.

I know, after years of being a responsible consumer, that fat-free and light are not really healthier choices. I know, based on watching different documentaries, that food companies shuffle sugar, salt and fat around in food items to eliminate whatever the "bad" item of the day is.

To illustrate my point, while at the grocery store today, I checked out the ranch dressing. I compared the full-fat version to the fat-free dressing (which tastes like shit). The fat-free version had more sodium and more sugar than the full-fat version. You are doing away with "bad" fat, but you are then adding more other bad things (sugar and sodium) in.

Bread and spaghetti sauce are big sugar offenders. Out of curiosity, I picked a random spaghetti sauce jar and peeked at the label-there were 10 grams of sugar for one serving of sauce. To put it in perspective, on average there are 2.7 grams of sugar in a serving of peanut butter.

Several years ago, I tried to cut out refined sugar. It is a lofty goal but I found in practice it was nearly impossible. There is sugar in nearly every consumable item in the grocery store. This book has affirmed that for me. Sugar is cheap, easy to obtain, adds bulk to food, makes baked goods fluffier, makes food more shelf-stable, the list goes on and on. For food companies, sugar is indispensable. It is ubiquitous. The alternative is not sugar-free, either. There are so many chemicals necessary to mimic sugar that the food tastes awful and has a little-known side effect--diarrhea.

I am also learning that I'm fighting an uphill battle with my kids and their sugar intake. Kids have a preference for sugar--we all do (we have it at birth). The difference is that kids want things that are, on average, twice as sweet as the things we want. I am grateful that my kids don't eat breakfast cereal because it's the number one offender when it comes to sugar load.

This all makes me grateful that I made the commitment to make my family's bread products from scratch at home and use freshly-ground flour. It doesn't eliminate sugar (especially if I'm making baked goods), but it does add in nutrients that are missing from any commercially produced bread products. I use honey to make my bread. It's still sweet but not nearly as sweet as white sugar. It is also broken down differently in the body than white sugar and has other wonderful properties.

I work hard to limit my kids consumption of juice, junk food (even things like fruit snacks with are not made with anything resembling fruit), chips, sweets, etc. Their special treat when we go shopping is a donut. They have come to understand (because I have drilled it home) that donuts are a sometimes food. I have tried to instill the mantra "we need to eat a wide variety of (lightly processed) foods." It was a line I read in a marathon training book penned by Hal Higdon years ago. But it remains true, especially when I'm not training for a marathon.

I am grateful for my kids taste preferences, honestly. They do a better than fair job of eating fruits and veggies (except for Doug, who is averse to anything green and leafy). They eschew sweetened juice drinks for watered down apple juice. They understand that we cannot eat an entire chocolate cake in one day, that mommy only bakes once in a great while, that we have to eat healthy food before we have a treat.

It's refreshing to know that the battle I'm fighting with them, about eating healthy, about saying no to sweets, is hardwired and is being exploited. That relieves me, to some extent, of the worry that I've ruined them because of my bad habits. It also helps assuage my own guilt when I overdo my sugar consumption. I am responsible but the food companies make it nearly impossible not to overdo it.

I am very open with them about my own struggles. I exercise daily and I do so to get healthy. I don't use words like fat, or obese, or ugly or anything like that. I draw attention to the fact that mommy is trying to get healthy, that I'm exercising so my heart is healthy.

I'm still fighting, though, against the sugar. It's a tough fight, one I have to engage on a daily basis. I crave it every day. I stay away from grocery stores and convenience stores, so that the beautiful packaging, the smell, the allure doesn't drive me nuts. I drink plenty of water, I eat a diet that is high in fiber (so I don't feel hungry and therefore more susceptible). It's a fight I've fought before, with modest success.

It's a tougher fight, though, because sugar is so insidious. The enemies I've fought previous were harder to obtain and not mainstream. I get tired in this fight, more so than in the other. This fight is lonelier in some aspects because support groups are few and far between.

Luckily, I have social media on my side. There are a lot of things about social media which aren't great, but this time around, I have found people who root for me when I'm having successes, cheer me on when my spirits are flagging, give me advice and helpful tips and above all partner with me in prayer for strength and courage.

I harness all of that, along with God's power, to give me some serenity. It's a day-to-day fight, but it's one I'm committed to continuing to fight.

My First Anniversary

Greetings and a happy Independence Day to everyone in cyberspace. I hope everyone enjoyed their holiday celebrations. I had a great time in spite of a migraine and accompanying symptoms.

It's been a year since I started this blog. I had high hopes for it. I thought it might generate some income for my family--it hasn't. I thought I would be able to reach people--I have. In all, it's been a great opportunity to archive my life and work out emotions that require more than just a status update.

Last year we took Jeremy and Bekah to see fireworks. They hated them. It was pretty much a disaster. They were terrified by the sounds and spent the entire time with their eyes shut tight and hands over their ears.

This year, we thought we would plan better. Jeremy's diagnosis helped make sense of his reaction to what we felt like was a celebratory event. We figured, we would leave him at my parent's house and take the other two kids to see fireworks. Our thinking that was Bekah might enjoy them on her own, without the power of her brother's suggestions.

Jeremy was going to stay overnight at my parents' house. I was a little nervous about him sleeping away from home but I thought he would enjoy it. He seemed excited by the prospect of it. Bekah seemed excited to go see fireworks. I underestimated the sibling love, though.

Jeremy and Bekah are only 16 months apart. They have always been close. They share a room and when one of them is not around, the other spends most of their time asking when their sibling will return. It's sweet because I know they really enjoy playing with each other. Don't get me wrong, they are like all brothers and sisters. It sometimes turns into an MMA match and quickly at that.

Today I took Bekah to see Despicable Me 2. She has been struggling with me being gone more in the evenings (between working and just having coffee with friends). I figured we needed a little girl time together, alone. When we got home, Jeremy bounded off the couch to greet her. I asked Brian later if he asked about her at all and Brian said he had, regularly.

We did have dinner at my parents' house. The plan was, eat dinner, hang out and then take off, leaving Jeremy there. Thankfully, I've been a parent long enough to know that plans need to be fluid. Upon hearing about the plan, Bekah balked. She didn't want to go see the fireworks. Jeremy also balked. He didn't want to stay at D'da and Bubba's house by himself. Fine, we said. We'll just go home.

My parents suggested driving near to the fireworks and just letting the kids see the lights. The sound is what unnerves them and so we would be able to watch the show but not get freaked out. So we set out toward Woodstock after fueling up. I was still not feeling 100%, but I didn't want my family to miss out.

We debated parking in a few different spots but then decided to drive to the school adjacent to Emricson Park, where the fireworks take place. I figured, correctly, that we wouldn't have time to park and find a place. It was packed. We found the school just after the display started. With nowhere to set out our blanket and spread out, Brian pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex right across from the school. We turned of the interior and exterior lights of the van, put up the windows (at Jeremy's insistence) and watched the show.

Jeremy still had his hands over his ears. He asked us, rather loudly, to shut the windows twice or three times. He couldn't figure out where he should be to watch them. He was concerned about his imaginary friends (apparently they were in another car in the parking lot also observing the show). He comforted Doug (which surprised me, because Doug was not fussing--to which Brian pointed out that he wasn't fussing because Jeremy was comforting him).

It was kind of the craziest fireworks outing I've ever attended. We didn't have to fight the mosquitoes, throngs of people, chase Doug around non-stop or worry about the noise. Someday, I hope my kids and I are able to experience fireworks al fresco. For now, this wasn't a bad way to go.