Embrace the Balance.

My Little Guy was formally diagnosed with ADHD. We were prepared for the diagnosis, and to be honest, didn't really expect anything else to come out of our pediatrician's mouth. The next steps -- creating a treatment plan of action -- were where the difficult decision lay. Or so I expected.

Pre-diagnosis, my husband and I had thought we'd never put one of our sons on medication for 'behavior issues.' We both were guilty of being sadly ignorant of  ADHD realities, and also both adhered strictly to the 'boys will be boys' philosophy.  We believed that there were certain traits that all boys have, and that parents grossly over-medicated just because they didn't want to deal with a willful, exuberant child. (In hindsight, I could just kick myself for making such ignorant judgements. Especially now as I am experiencing firsthand how much those judgements hurt).

But, medication is exactly what our doctor recommended.  And in spite of our initial apprehension (and misguided opinions), we followed his advice.

I have heard personal stories and read countless articles about drug therapy since ADHD came into our lives.  How choosing to medicate is a really tough a decision; one article about how meds are SO bad for your child, and then the next tells you how meds are the only thing that works -- every parent and doctor (and unfortunately, random woman in the grocery store) has an opinion on the good or evil of ADHD meds. I was prepared for a long, drawn-out decision-making process, filled with lists of pros and cons, and hours of mulling it over.  But, in reality, once our doctor made his recommendations, I knew almost immediately it was the right thing to do for our family.

There are many reasons why choosing medical science to help our son was the path we chose.  1.) We trust our pediatrician; he's been the boys' doctor since the day they were born.  2.) The effects of the medication are not cumulative and completely reversible; if we change our minds, we can take him off the meds right away.  3.) Drug therapy doesn't have to be long term; if as a child, he needs medication to succeed in school (academically AND socially) so be it -- he has far more options for modeling his life to deal with ADHD as an adult.

But looking back now, I know I was always at peace with the decision to medicate, certainly for the reasons above, but also because of who I am -- a believer in technology, science and modern medicine.

When I was 18, I was diagnosed with Osteo-Rheumatoid Arthritis. It was an enormous struggle and an incredibly tough road at first. But, I was able to live my life and meet my goals and do the things I'd always dreamed about because I found the right medication that stopped the pain and let me experience life. When I was 32, I had a stroke. Although I don't like to necessarily think about it, I almost died.  But I didn't. I had surgery to remove part of my cerebellum that was possible thanks to medical science. I am a prime example of what medical technology and advancements can do -- it made me who I am.  Because of it, I still AM.

We have come a long way from using leeches and doctors not washing their hands before procedures and having polio and dying from illnesses that could be cured by a simple antibiotic. Modern medicine has done amazing things for physical conditions, from easily treating what were once fatal diseases to providing veterans with prosthetic limbs. Why isn't science as widely accepted as a way to treat mental disorders? I mean, if it's within my power to give my boy's 'race car brain' even a little bit of the relief I feel when taking my arthritis meds, isn't it worth a shot?

Of course, I am absolutely not saying there isn't a place for holistic treatment of illness. (We have begun our son in play therapy to address his ADHD in addition to his medication.) I also try to eat as 'cleanly' as possible and think a person's diet is better the more natural and chemical-free it is. (We have restricted the dyes and nitrites in my son's food.)  I definitely believe in the healing power of Mother Nature -- but to be sure, I believe in the strength of science as well.

We as humans (and part of nature) have developed the capacity for inventing miracles that help us (sometimes even save us).

Embrace the balance.

Guilt Is A Four Letter Word

Ahh, guilt.  Along with regret, one of the most useless, futile and absurd of all human emotions.  And yet, almost all of us feel it at one time or another, to varying degrees.  Currently, I am experiencing guilt-overload, and it is crushing.

I've always been a guilty person. (No, not THAT kind of guilty!) I am a people-pleaser.  I want everyone around me to be happy, and to like me.  I feel so bad if anyone is put out, inconvenienced or upset. That has meant conflict avoidance (even when confrontation was really what was necessary) and some bottling up of emotion. Totally unhealthy.  But the guilt I've been experiencing lately is even worse -- Parent Guilt. The most intense of all the guilts, in my opinion.

Ever since my husband and I were told of my Little Guy's potential (probable) ADHD, our lives have really changed. I've, of course, being a mom, have scoured the Internet doing research. We've been a lot more patient with him, knowing a lot of his behaviors he just can't help.  But along with changes in our family life, there has also been guilt piling up on me.

I feel guilty...
about the expectations I had for my children.  My husband and I were always part of the sports-related crowd.  I was a cheerleader, he played lacrosse and soccer. We had friends growing up and were always part of a fun group of friends.  I always expected my children to be the same.  But, neither of them are athletes, and both are a little young for their age...especially my Little Guy.  His teacher has noticed he has some problems relating to the other kids, which is a hallmark of ADHD. I feel guilty sometimes that he struggles with friendship. I wish it were easier for him. I feel guilty that I sometimes wish they were what I'd imagined them to be.

I feel guilty...
about the kind of mother I am.  Is my Little Guy's ADHD caused by something I did? Did I let him watch to much television? Do I fail in making sure he has the best nutrition? Did I expose him to some toxin in his bottles, toys, anything? What did I do wrong??

I feel guilty...
about talking to people about ADHD. Sometimes, it feels like all my conversations, regardless of where they started, come back around to it.  I don't want to be someone that no one wants to talk to because THIS is all they talk about (hello? People pleaser!!).  So instead, I just find myself retreating into myself...and bottling emotions.

I feel guilty...
about being so worried.  I have friends with children who are struggling with issues that are way bigger than ADHD. There are lots of people who suffer from ADHD; where do I get off being so consumed?  There are so many people out there with far more consequential, even life-threatening, concerns for their kids.  This is nothing compared to what others have to endure.

I feel guilty...
about my Big Guy. Dealing with an ADHD child requires a ton of patience and temper-control (one of the first things I read about it was the importance of remaining positive).  What patience and responsiveness can I possibly have left over for my Big Guy? Is he left wondering why all of our attention is directed his brother's way? We've explained the situation to him and he understands what's going on, but he's only 9. He's just a kid, too and even though he understands, it has to be impossible for him not to feel a little neglected.

I feel guilty...
about what choices we are going to make.  There are so many routes to take as far as treatment. Therapies, medications, diets -- so much to decide.  What if I choose poorly? I run all the possibilities in my head constantly, and I know I'll second guess everything we do. I feel more and more like a child instead of a parent...aren't the grown-ups supposed to decide and tell us what to do? Oh, I AM the grown-up? Well, it sure as hell doesn't feel like it; I am too scared and uncertain.

So, there it is. Logically, I know feeling guilty about all of the above (and more) a.) doesn't change anything, b.) might be a little ridiculous, and c.) doesn't do anyone any good.  But I still do. Writing all this down does help; I can see in black and white how silly and pointless some of this is. I know I need to (wo)man up and stop catering to the stupid, illogical guilt. My energies need to be focused solely on helping my sons (both of them) through this.

I'm trying.

It's Been One Week Since You Looked at Me...

Happy Valentine's Day!

I've been very lucky to experience a lot of love over the past seven days.

It's been one week since we first heard those little letters that have thrown our world into upheaval.

"ADHD."

The past week, I've been scouring the Internet, reading books, trying to absorb every little piece of information I can get my hands on. Some has been helpful, some has not. Some has been scary, some comforting. But the most helpful thing I've found is putting aside the experts' words, and finally opening up to my friends. I should have known this from the beginning; my most valuable resource, for information and support, are the people around me (after all, they're in my life for a reason!). Just talking about what is going on has been amazing - hearing related experiences from friends, empathy from other parents, reassurances from our doctor and our teachers. My  "Never Say Die!" perspective on life is firmly back in place.

But one thing that was temporarily lost in my week-long whirlwind of information-absorption (and I can't stand myself for this) has been my little angel.

Little Guy has no clue whats going on. He doesn't know what 'ADHD' is. His world hasn't changed a bit...but, I'm so afraid he can feel me looking at him differently. And (I can't stand myself for this -- even more) I think I have been. But, today, he was in a great mood. He flashed a lot of typical LG smiles.  He asked me to be his Valentine. We played Snoopy for a while. Then we played Cup of Doom (something his fantastic imagination created). All of which was quintessential HIM. And it it was like a lightening flash in my brain.  Yes, I'd been (albeit subconsciously) looking at him differently. HOW STUPID. This is MY BABY. No matter what he 'has,' no matter what he needs, no matter what changes are ahead in our adventure -- we'll always face them together.  And he will always be able to rely on his mommy, no matter what. He's always going to be the little tow-headed angel  who completed our family. I feel like the worst mother in world for losing sight of this for even for one second. But I'll do my best not to forget again.

So, happy Valentines Day...it has been an emotional rollercoaster of a week. But I think the love has pushed the fear to the backburner (for now) where it belongs. Here's wishing you the kind of love that sees you through when you need help, and fills your heart with the deepest comfort and fiercest happiness!

But...I Don't Do Fear!

 "If there is one thing which I would banish from the earth, it is fear." 

-- Henry Ford

Yesterday, I read a blog post entitled, '10 Facts on Motherhood.' It struck me, (and other readers, judging by the comments), that while the truths she listed were entirely accurate, they also seemed counter-intuitive. Not that they didn't all apply (they absolutely do), but as an inclusive list, they seem to preclude one another. But as much as the list was accurate, the seeming contradiction is accurate, too. Wisdom and incompetence, resentfulness and joy, anger and appreciation -- yes, they are all felt deeply and simultaneously by mommies. Sometimes, all of them make an appearance in the space of only an hour.

My latest 'strengthener' (some may call them obstacles, but I've had so many of them that I refuse to characterize them that way) is a glaring example of this kind conflict in my own personality. On Thursday, my husband and I met with a team of educators from the elementary school my boys attend. We had this meeting scheduled for a while, and knew it was regarding our Little Guy's focus issues and his seeming inability to pay attention in school. I honestly wasn't that concerned about it. We had had the same meeting two years earlier for our older son. It was literally the exact same meeting -- the exact same team of our principal, the occupational therapist, the guidance counselor, the IST teacher and our first grade teacher and the exact same problems. Or so we thought.

Our previous meeting went a lot differently.

Big Guy got a sticker chart, with rewards for focusing in class each day. And the principal even said, 'Hes a first grade boy. If we're having this meeting in 5th grade, then there's a problem.' That was that, and by the next year it was fine. But, this time, the women's faces were much more serious. There was no 'he's just a little boy' dismissal. They had a different opinion. They felt we should have our Little Guy evaluated by our pediatrician for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).

If you've read this blog before, you know I pride myself on my tenacity.  I live by the words perseverance, positivity and purpose. Not to toot my own horn, but I've been through a lot, health-wise. And I've come out the other side stronger, better, clearer. The arthritis, my stroke, all of it -- I've faced it as bravely as I could.  But here's where my conflict is. Now? I am scared.

Oh, how easy I find it to tell my arthritis brethren, "Just do it! Be brave! No excuses!" And here I am, shrinking and humbled by the possibility of ADHD for my boy. There are so many questions and so much information out there. How will this effect his education? Making friends? What are our treatment options? What are we going to do??  I am overwhelmed and frightened. I just want to grab my son, hide under the bed and squeeze him and not let go.

I am shaken and afraid, and we don't even have a diagnosis yet.

I have spent the last few days alternating between my stalwart self, and saying, "Bring. It. On. You don't know who you're messing with!" But in the next minute, I'm terrified for him. Am I going to choose the right path for him to succeed? Is he going to struggle throughout his life?  I don't know how I feel, but I do know I HATE being afraid. It's just not who I am.

Logically, I know two things. 1.) We don't have an official label of 'ADHD' yet, so I am definitely getting ahead of myself. And 2.) ADHD is NOT the worst thing a parent could have to deal with, and I'm learning there are positives that come from a brain that is wired a bit differently.

So for now, I'm holding tight to my logic, and trying to keep the resolute part of me at the forefront. I know that's what I need to do, and what my sweet son needs most from his mama right now.  As I look at his beautiful face and infectious smile, it's a little easier to believe that everything is going to be okay.

Desperately Seeking...Something?

When I first created this blog, I was happily entrenched in my life as a stay-at-home mother. I had my hands full taking care of the boys, the house, my family in general.  But even then, I could see something out in the distance. A little glimmer of something, just out of reach and not quite discernible, but I knew it was there.  As the years have come and gone, that flicker of purpose got closer and closer.  And although the time has passed and I am still not quite sure what 'it' is -- here I am today, ready to reach out and grab it.

My sons have gone from small preschoolers who need their mommy for almost everything to big, independent boys who attend school. All day. Every day.  Without me. This fall, when the school year started and they were both finally there all day, that something out on the horizon started to poke at me.  I started thinking about the woman I used to be.  Now, don't get me wrong.  Choosing to stay home and raise my boys was the most valuable and important decision I ever made, and I would never change it, even if I could.  But, being a wife and mother was not something I'd always aspired to.  I had different goals and dreams as I grew up, and although they have been on the backburner for a while, they have never gone away.  Changed, evolved and metamorphosed, maybe; but never forgotten.

And now is the time to revive them.  Now, I am ready.

But here's the kicker -- all that change, evolution and metamorphosis?  Instead of wanting to start right back where I left off in the political arena, I am completely lost as to what I want to do NOW.  I don't mean to say that my past-life occupation wasn't important, or that I didn't believe in what I was doing, because I definitely did.  I believed in the issues I worked on and the people I worked for, almost to a fault (sometimes my passion did get the better of me!).  It's just now, my priorities have changed. It's hard to have two children, spend a significant time out of the workforce and reach the age of 40 without that happening.  My mission now is to take my changed priorities, meld them with my professional experience and find the perfect recipe for purpose.

So, what am I looking for then?  What are the ingredients that must be included to result in my desperately sought-after purpose? Well, though I may adjust for taste as the months go by and our family needs change, these are the core components:

• Balance.  My boys have never been to daycare.  They have never had anyone besides my husband or me have to pinch hit if they're sick. As I have said, their well-being and happiness are paramount to me.  I would love to find an employer who understands this, and embraces it. I truly believe that employees are happier, more productive and more satisfied in their work if they aren't constantly plagued by thoughts of what-ifs. What if my child gets sick? What if the boss penalizes me for asking for a flexible schedule on soccer game days?  Just knowing my employer 'gets it' would make all the difference for me in choosing to go back to work.
• Service.  Obviously, a factor in my returning to professional life is contributing to my family's economic well-being. But this is one thing that has not changed during my professional hiatus: I need for my work to be in service to others in some way.  In order for it to be meaningful for me, my industry has to help someone, somewhere who needs it.  I am drawn to non-profits and their mission to do good. As much as I adore the finer things in life, I have never worked just to make a buck.
• Patience.  I have been out of the workforce for a longtime.  And while I have tried to impose some of my former skills on to my current reality, it isn't quite the same. I have no doubt that once I am employed again, it will take me hardly any time to get right back into the groove and learn the ropes.  Hardly any time...but SOME time.  It's a different working world than the one I left behind, and I do realize it will require some adaptations and a learning curve.  Although I am quite confident I can not only do it, but excel at it, my ideal employer would acknowledge this adjustment and work with me.
• The 'Click.'   Not to belabor the point, but it has been a few years since I had a boss over the age of eight. At this stage in my game, it matters more to me what a potential employer's purpose is than specifically what I'd be doing within the organization. I want to connect, to click with it; I want to feel passion for its mission. I realize my resume gap will necessitate a certain degree of starting at the bottom. Again. But I don't mind. I am perfectly willing to pay my dues all over again -- answering phones or some administrative duties in the beginning. If the potential for advancement is there, and I'm contributing to the overall success of the organization, I can do what I'm needed to do. Ideally, I will find a position that will utilize my talents from past positions to become a real asset to my employer.  

Not much to ask, huh? :)

So, I continue on my path toward gainful, meaningful, and balanced employment. I am learning more about myself and my aspirations every day, and with every cover letter I write.  And although the process is taking longer than I would have predicted, I persevere.  I know it'll be worth the wait.

Movin' On Up...

Today was registration for the Spring soccer season at our township's recreation department. Now, we've done this six times in the past -- twice a year since Big Guy was 4 years old. So really, not a big deal, right? We should be old hands at this! But, something's a bit different this time -- Big Guy is moving up to U8.

I am sure you're probably scratching your head and wondering why this is blog-worthy at all. But, if you're a parent, and especially a football-loving parent, this a pretty big deal.

The first season we played U6, it was basically everything a soccer team should be for a four-year-0ld. They had cute little t-shirts (not kits), they played on a field with orange cones as goals, and they basically all swarmed after the ball up and down the field like one big rugby scrum! It was unbearably cute, all the little preschoolers running, dancing, twirling, and falling down on the pitch -- basically doing anything but actually playing the ball. Positions? Pah - even the goalkeeper didn't stay in the goal. And you can forget about passing. Most of the children were stealing the ball from their own teammates! Big Guy was the epitome of all of this...and my husband and I thought -- will he ever be ready for the big leagues (U8)?

This last season for Big Guy was different though. Towards the end of the season, my little attention seeker had stopped running along the sidelines, waving to the crowd. No more was he on the opposite side of the pitch from the swarm of kids around the ball. He wasn't dancing anymore -- he was dribbling, and he was scoring. All of a sudden, it was like a light switch turned on in his mind. He knew what to do, and he was doing it.

I can't even begin to tell you what this means to my husband. He's been an avid football player his entire life, and still plays twice a week. He'll say, "Whatever the boys want to do, it's fine with me. As long as they're happy." But you can bet your bottom dollar that seeing the Big Guy in action as he scored his first goal -- his big old macho heart was just bursting with pride.

Who knows where our son's big epiphany came from...coaching from Dad? The fact that we watch Manchester United religiously every week on television with him? Brainwashing? Haven't a clue. All we know Big Guy is really starting to develop the skills he needs to match the passion he has in his heart. I can only imagine his excitement when he dons his numbered jersey for the very first time. The look on his face will be priceless and I can't wait. He may be only moving up to U8, but for him, this will be a dream come true.

(Now we just hope and pray for the same epiphany for Little Guy! :)

Out of the Mouths of Babes...

If you're a parent, no doubt you have uttered the words, "When did he/she get so big?" It's amazing how quickly time passes when you have children. Every day they seem to be achieving a new milestone...my Big Guy is in first grade, and I could have sworn I just gave birth about a week ago. And my Little Guy? I don't even know when he got here!

The time passes so quickly, I need to slow down and start savoring these little people. On a daily basis, they crack me up with some of the comments they make and conversations they have with each other and me. I really need to start writing everything they say down -- they will be mortifying memories in high school, but they will love it when they get older...or at least their wives will!

Here is just a sampling of gems -- one day in the life of the Big Guy:

• "Can I wear my Manchester United jersey to my First Holy Communion?"
• Getting ready for CCD: "God school is fun!"
  
• As we are driving to my dad's birthday dinner: "So, how old is Papa now? One hundred?"
• Looking at his new winter coat: "Wow!! That is brilliant!"
  

Back To School...Blues? Bliss?

Well, after a summer of swimming lessons, karate class, and football games, it all came to an end today. Big Guy had his first day back at school.

This year, he started the 1st Grade. He was beyond excited; he couldn't wait to go to sleep last night to make sure he got "good rest" for his new year. He woke up this morning, and immediately wanted to get dressed and put on his backpack -- who needs breakfast?!?

I have mixed emotions about the boys starting back to school. We have had a great summer together, laughing, playing, just being together. I am going to miss not having my little buddies with me all day long. We've had a blast being bosom buddies for three months!

The beginning of another school year also serves as a milestone marker: they're another year older, and another year more independent from me. When they were babies, they relied on me for everything...and while they're still only 4 and 6, I see them getting their own snacks, going to the bathroom by themselves and getting dressed solo and it makes me realize: they're needing me less and less. Case in point: yesterday, a song came on the radio, and I started dancing around the family room. While they used to jump in and dance along with me, Big Guy said, "Mommy, can you please stop it?" It's going to be a tough transition for me from the center of their universe to the 'embarrassing mom!'

On the other hand, I do have to admit a little part of me is excited...Little Guy will be in preschool three days a week, and with Big Guy in school all day long -- that means Mommy will actually get some 'me' time!! There will be errands I can run and just jump in and out of the car -- no handing holding in parking lots or buckling and unbuckling of carseat belts. I can spend some time shopping for me or getting my nails done, stuff I can't do with two crazy boys in tow. Even cleaning the house without little messmakers following me around is (somewhat of) a luxury...

At any rate, school is here, whether it makes me happy or sad. They're growing up and stepping out, and I can either long for the days of babyhood or look excitedly to the next phase of their lives. Every year with them has been an adventure, and this one won't be any different. And, it doesn't hurt that a little bit of my 'pre-kids' self is coming back slowly as they grow. I'll just hold on tight to their little hands for as long as I can and say, "Bring on the future!"

Everything You Always Wanted to Know...

This post was inspired by a fellow blogger...she tagged me in a post she did revealing some of her life, and I remembered I had recently written "25 Quick Facts about Me" in another forum, so I'd thought I'd share them here...

1.) I could get lost for days in a bookstore.

2.) I honestly enjoy working out very much. I hate running, though.

3.) I am a deeply religious person. But, I don't hit you over the head with it.

4.) My husband is simply one of the best people I know. And I love him as much as I did when he came stumbling into my dorm room, wasted, the first night of college.

5.) There has never been a time in my life that I didn't think I needed to lose at least 5 lbs.

6.) I constantly worry about my sons' health. And their social skills. And their intellect. And whether they will be polite, won't hit, will go to college, etc. Parenthood is by far the hardest job I have ever, or will ever, have.

7.) I kinda want to be British.

8.) I love tweeting!! I was pretty resistant to it at first, but I've met some amazing people through Twitter.

9.) I am most terrified of failing as a parent.

10.) I LOVE television (I know, I know). But I reconcile this fact with the following: a.) for the most part, I dig 'smart' shows like Lost, and I loved Studio 60 and West Wing, and b.) I love to read just as much.

11.) My life is SO not what I'd imagined. Completely different, but infinitely better.

12.) My grandparents were both born in the very early years of the 20th century. I think of them on a daily basis and wonder how they would react to various forms of technology.

13.) I believe that it should be REQUIRED for everyone to watch What Not To Wear, and follow Clinton and Stacey's rules TO THE LETTER.

14.) I often wonder what my boys will be like as men.

15.) My dream vacation would be a trip around the world, capped off by a week in Disney World. There's nothing I would rather do more than travel.

16.) I miss DC (sometimes violently) and especially the people I worked with down there.

17.) I feel that grammar and eloquent speech are of vital importance.

18.) One of the greatest gifts my husband has ever given me is an appreciation and love for soccer and Manchester United.

19.) I dream of writing a novel, if I could just get over myself. And, find the time.

20.) I love being Catholic. Just going to Mass can make me feel better about almost anything.

21.) Looking back, I was a baby when I got married just a month after my 24th birthday. I would NOT change a thing, but I also would strenuously object if either of my boys wanted to get
married that young!

22.) I talk to my mother, my father, and my sister via telephone at least once a day, if not more.

23.) No matter how hard I try, or how closely I follow a recipe, I cannot cook to save my life.

24.) I am a straight-up, unapologetic girly-girl. I was a cheerleader in high school and in a sorority in college. I love hair, make-up, fashion, shoes, handbags, shopping...need I go on? I am convinced God gave me two little boys to offset this a bit.

25.) If you were my friend at any point in time, you're stuck with me for life.

Lesson Learned

It's pretty safe to say that the middle two weeks of June were a pretty crappy time for me...Little Guy had his surgery on June 11, and for two weeks was not only in constant pain, but stuck inside recovering when he should have been out enjoying the first two weeks of summer. At the end of our two weeks in quarantine, the United States Men's National Team was knocked out of the World Cup. By Ghana. Again.

Like I said, crappy two weeks. Awful to the Nth degree.

I spent Sunday in full stages-of-grief mode. I bemoaned the fact that Little Guy missed two birthday parties, the first session of swim lessons, and a trip to see Thomas the Tank Engine at the local railroad. I mourned the US team's loss to Ghana and their missed opportunities. I nursed the sting of loss. Luckily, before I spiraled out of control, Monday came.

Not traditionally anyone's favorite day, no one can argue that Monday is always the day for fresh starts. Little Guy started his first day of swim lessons! We opened our paddling pool, sandbox, and umbrella picnic table - we spent the entire day outside splashing and playing and picnic-ing. And I came to grips with our wonderful soccer team's loss. Those boys gave an entire country something to be proud of. They gave their all in every single match and played with undeniable heart and spirit. It was amazing the way they captured the love of the entire nation, even those Americans who aren't usually soccer fans. It was heart-warming the way the country continued to respect and be grateful to them even when they lost.

I guess the lesson of all this IS the lesson...every difficult time you go through teaches you something. With the Little Guy, we went through two incredibly tough weeks, but the happy ending we got was worth every minute. With our soccer team, we weren't lucky enough to get that happy ending. But, supporting them, seeing the country rally around them, and being awed by their courage, character, and never-say-die attitude -- I wouldn't have traded a minute of that for the world.

Everything happens for a reason, and whether you come out happier on the other side or not, you come out wiser and stronger nonetheless. Lesson learned.

Metamorphosis

Last Friday, Little Guy had his tonsils and adenoids removed. He was not resting well, waking up from a full-night's sleep grumpy and still tired. The specialist he saw determined that the only way to address this was for him to have this surgery.

The surgery went fine, it was a routine procedure, and was finished in about 20 minutes. However, his recovery and recuperation are another story completely. After the first two nights being uneventful, the pain in his throat is now at the point where it is getting worse before it gets better. The past two nights, he's slept very fitfully, waking up almost like clockwork every two hours or so. To top it off, he's also taking Tylenol with codeine, which makes him very groggy, and, I would imagine, makes it tougher to get back to normal.

Of course, me being me, I did some research online to find other stories of similar situations. I found a blog, called 'Type A Mama' (a kindred spirit!) and Little Guy seems to be following the footsteps of her son almost exactly. (Read about her experience here.)

So, for the two weeks between the procedure and his follow-up appointment with the surgeon, Little Guy and I are hunkering down, drinking lots of water, getting lots of snuggles in, and probably watching too much Thomas the Tank Engine. We are soldiering through this metamorphosis of his, looking for that light at the end of the tunnel which will hopefully shine on a brand-new, rested, happy little boy.

Weathering Wanderlust

"I'm shakin' the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I'm gonna see the world. Italy, Greece, the Parthenon, the Colosseum..." -- George Bailey (James Stewart) It's a Wonderful Life

There's nothing in the world like the feeling I get when I know I have a trip coming. From the moment I book it, just the knowledge that I am GOING somewhere, anywhere, gives me a combination of stomach-flutters, body tingles and involuntary idiot-like grinning. I am big on countdowns; I love watching the number of days 'til I leave get smaller and smaller. I produce detailed packing strategy spreadsheets (this is very ME) and when I can actually put clothes in a suitcase, I get so excited that I nearly jump out of my skin!

However, since I became a mama, our freedom to travel has been just a little inhibited. With our first son, it was more difficult to get away, but we made it work. We took the Big Guy to London for a week when he was just ten months old. But as he got older, and Little Guy came along, it just became too difficult logistically to do it. Our travel destinations were rerouted to Walt Disney World. Make no mistake, though -- I love, love, love to go to Disney and I am truly blessed to be able to share my childhood memories with my boys. But we will have to wait until the boys get a little older to do the kind of traveling we fantasize about. Until then, I must patiently suffer through this wanderlust I have -- the voracious, ever-present desire within me to GO. SEE. EXPERIENCE.

'Weathering Wanderlust' is going to be a multi-part post. In order to deal with my temporarily postponed adventures (the aforementioned weathering), I am constantly dreaming of new places to go. This list is long, varied, and fantastic. I am excited to delve a little deeper into the culture and character of my dream destinations. And even more excited for the day my dreams become reality!

Soccer: Our Family Fetish

Last night was the final game of U6 Spring 2010 Soccer. This was the 5th season the Big Guy has played, the 5th season his dad has coached, and the very first time the Little Guy got to be part of the team, too. My husband, in addition to coaching the boys for two seasons a year, also plays in two different over-30 leagues. Indoor, all year round, and outdoor in the spring and fall. Myself, I am relatively new to soccer, but for the past six or so years, I've been slowly transforming from a vocal supporter of our favorite club to a knowledgeable soccer fan. By no means would I ever call myself an expert - I am definitely still learning. I voraciously read everything I can about the strategy and tactics, the current players, and the various coaches. We're fans of British football, but both my husband I try to keep abreast of the happenings in other leagues. It makes us delighted beyond words that our sons love soccer as much as we do, and that they are being raised to play, live and breathe it.

So, it's not unusual to see our entire family dressed exactly the same on a weekend - of course, we'll all be wearing Manchester United jerseys. It's not unusual for Fox Soccer Channel to be almost constantly on our television while not one NFL game is ever turned on. It's not unusual for us that the Big Guy has a Manchester United duvet. It's not unusual that Little Guy could say "Liverpool - blech!" since he was 2.

We are a soccer family -- it's our fetish, our fixation, our faith.

Choo-Choo! All Aboard the Birthday Express!

Happy birthday, Little Guy! Today was my youngest son's birthday party. His birthday is actually May 29th, but that always falls on Memorial Day weekend. Lots of folks travel that weekend, so it's tough to get a party together then. Lucky boy -- he gets a week-long celebration!
For the party, we did a Thomas the Tank Engine theme. He's really into Thomas. No, I mean REALLY. This actually the third year in a row that we've had a Thomas birthday party for the munchkin. But, I don't mind - Thomas stories always have good life lessons about caring for others, working hard and being kind. And the engines all use impeccable grammar, which is key!
The Tumblebus also came to entertain the kids, which is an incredible idea. It's an old school bus that the Tumblebus-sters converted into a mobile gym for little ones. They have installed padded walls/floor (of course), a zip line, trampolines, tumbling mats, balance beams, and a ton more. The bus drives to your house and provides an HOUR (yes, a lovely, beautiful, entire HOUR) of kid-centric entertainment. While they tumble and play to their hearts' content, the parents have a little downtime to socialize themselves. It's fabulous.

All in all it was a fabulous party...the weather was beautiful and the Little Guy got to share his special day with family, classmates and friends. He had a wonderful time. And I am EXHAUSTED!

Now is the time...

"How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world." --Anne Frank

Or yourself, for that matter!

It's been over 5 years since I made the transition from a working woman to full-time, stay-at-home mama. That transformation, it seems, would have been the interesting stuff to document in the blogosphere. How I adjusted to life at home, how being a first time mother to an infant affected me, dealing with financial changes, etc. So, why, five years later am I just starting a blog NOW?

Before I delve into my intentions, here is some background on me: In 2005, I left a promising, challenging, fulfilling career to stay at home and care for my one-year-old son. On one hand, it was an agonizing decision. I worked as a legislative adviser, employed by various politicians and lobbying outfits. I loved the fast pace of government, the rush I got when meeting important people...and the actual work was pretty interesting, too! But, on the other hand, none of it could compare to the little tow-headed boy who had captured my heart and soul.

So, I had a long talk with my husband, and luckily, he was incredibly supportive of the possibility of me leaving my job (and salary) to be with the little Big Guy full-time.

Fast-forward five years. Here I am, another son and half a decade of stay-at-home mama-ness under my belt. So why, now that things are settled and happy, am I choosing this time to begin documenting my reflections and ruminations?

The answer has a few dimensions. The biggest factor being: Big Guy started full-day kindergarten this year. Now, he's gone from 9am to 3:20pm. His little brother, Little Guy, is in preschool twice a week for two hours. That's not a whole lot of childless time, but this milestone year has definitely got me thinking. What happens when both boys are in school all day long? Will I get a 'real' job? How will I possibly be able to breathe being away from my boys from 9-5? Do I try to find something automatic and flexible, like Target or the like, so I can still be there after school and soccer games, etc.? Will that be worth the time away if I am not satisfied by the work?

Secondly, I miss writing. I REALLY miss it. Striving for excellent, persuasive and moving writing was a huge part of my job and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I hope that by writing this blog, not only will I provide myself with a creative outlet, but I can resharpen old skills that might (okay, probably) have gotten rusty during my child-rearing hiatus. If I do go back to a job in my old field, this will be especially useful!

Finally, since coming home, I've been wrestling with a lot of different thoughts and issues on a wide variety of subjects. I have lots and lots of thoughts about everything, everyone, everyday. Like, my "About Me" tells you, my whole world is kind of a study in contradictions. We recently moved to a more rural area from a bigger city. I hate that there are really no good restaurants around here, but I love the low crime rate and good schools. It's obvious I am conflicted about whether to go back to work. I probably think a little more about certain things than would a person with a job outside the home, but c'est la vie. I think about stuff, and now I can write it all down - the absolute best way to make sense of things, in my experience.

So here it is. I don't know if anyone will be interested in reading my random thoughts and out-of-the-blue ramblings, but that's okay. I've got a lot to say, even if I am the only one who wants to hear it!!