Giving And Receiving

After the tragic events of Friday December 14, the country has been advocating random acts of kindness and treating your neighbor like you would want to be treated.  For the record, I do not perform random acts of generosity or kindness because a current well known public figure tells me to.  I don't believe that the world will be changed by performing 26 random acts of kindness once in a year.  To forget your selfish nature just long enough to do something in the name of a victim of a horrible tragedy only to pick it back up again and push and shove your way through Black Friday next year really doesn't help anyone, not in the long run.

Any acts of kindness or selflessness that I perform are done because Jesus Christ died on the cross to save me from death.  I do the things I do because He commanded me to love my neighbor as myself.  He paid the ultimate price for me.  Out of a place of darkness, I was set free.  It is that freedom and love and genuine care for those around me that pushes me to do the things I do.  It's also something that I do year round, not just once a year.

This year I was prompted to give a meal to a family I'll never meet.  My church held a diaper drive so that moms in need would have diapers this Christmas.  I've put my change in the red kettles and thanked a man in  Army fatigues for his service and my freedom.  I explained to my son that we do these things not for glory or recognition here and instead, we give because we have been given so much more than we realize through what Jesus did on the cross.

What I didn't expect was what we were given.

Yesterday at church, Nate and I delivered cupcakes to our Sunday school class because it's Christmas weekend and I have next weekend off before the New Year and you simply cannot send children into their Christmas break without a lot of sugar and frosting.  It's simply not allowed.  When we arrived, there was a bag and a large box wrapped up in paper and tied with ribbon waiting for us.  My pastor's wife (and my boss as she runs the Sunday school program) gave us a bag with yummy treats in it and homemade bird feeders to hang outside our windows for the birds.  One of our students gave us a beautiful ornament with the nativity scene inside that's lit up with a light.

I didn't know what to think.  Inside the larger bag that was waiting with the box were clothes, gently laundered and smelling so wonderfully fresh, for my son.  The box held a thick winter coat for him to wear next year and clothes and socks and gloves and a little hat.  There were also two $25 Walmart gift cards for me and Nate.  When I got home and started putting things away, I simply stood in 2.0's room and sobbed.

I will never know who did those things for us.  I'll never know who to thank or throw my arms around and give a big hug to.  I don't know why these people thought of us and loved us like this.  I fought with a feeling of unworthiness.  My pastor's wife smiled at me and told me to just say thank you.  So I say now Thank You.  (I'm crying now as I write this because I'm still so incredibly touched.)

Giving and receiving came full circle for us this year.  We got to have the joy of knowing that we gave something wonderful to a family that needed it and then received a gift of loving kindness from others.  What I hope you take away from this post is that your act of kindness shouldn't stop when the holidays are over.  It should continue all year.  God loved us, not just at Christmas time, but all year round.  So we are to love others all the time.

Merry Christmas from Nate, 2.0, and I.  :)

In Which We Talk About Mental Illness

In the wake of Friday's devastating massacre of innocent people and the knowledge that the shooter was mentally ill, I feel a need to be very frank.  I simply want to share some very personal information with you and hopefully change the way you see mental illness and its treatment in this country.

I have a condition called Conversion Disorder.  I think I've talked about it before.  I had paralysis in one hand while in high school and went blind in my right eye for three days with no medical explanation.  The paralysis I experienced is actually medically impossible with the way the nerves are laid out in the body.  Both conditions are classic examples of Conversion Disorder.

I had a drug and alcohol problem in high school and once I was clean (going on 14 years now), I was brutally raped and went through an episode of domestic violence when I was 21 that lasted about 5 months. However, my seizures started before that.

I had EEGs and MRIs and CT scans.  I was looked at by neurologist after neurologist with no explanation for the 7-12 seizures I was having some days.  I'd wake up with bruises and have no idea how they happened.  Finally a neurologist at the University of Wisconsin hospital in Madison was very blunt with me and my mom.  The seizures were psychosomatic and indicative of a deeper mental illness.  I went to see a clinical psychologist who discovered what was causing the seizures and helped me find a way to stop them.  Through hypnotherapy and counseling, I was finally about to be very open about the trigger and could finally express my grief.  After my domestic violence experience, my family watched for the return of the seizures but they stayed away because I was able to control them and worked with a counselor to understand what had happened to me.

On the way to the rehearsal dinner, the night before I got married, I had a seizure in the car.  Thankfully my fiance (my husband now) was prepared for it and handled it with grace and understanding.  I now only have a seizure maybe three times a year.

I'll bet you didn't know that did you?  I'll bet you can't look at me and tell that I have this condition.  You probably wouldn't know my husband has adult ADD either.

Mental illness isn't something you can see.  Those of us with it aren't wearing signs around our necks to declare our condition.  In fact, for most of us, the conditions we have are hard to explain.  Some of us require medication to help us.  Others, like myself, required intense therapy and alternative therapeutic methods to control our conditions.

I'm not a threat to myself or anyone else.  The seizures I have now occur only when I'm sleeping.  I'm safe to drive, to care for my child, and to teach my students in Sunday school and be an active member of my community.

The tragedy in Connecticut was awful and sad and I've heard so much talk about mental illness and gun control.  We're all looking for someone to blame and the shooter took his own life.  We have no one alive to blame.  Sometimes we just need to accept what is.  This was a horrible tragedy.  If we could go back in time and change it, I have absolutely no doubt that we would.  But we simply can't.  Now we have to mourn with those who mourn and hold our children tight.

We also need to be compassionate to those who suffer with a condition they may not even understand.  Not all people who have some form of mental illness are dangerous.  We just have a condition that requires care. It's no different than diabetes or heart disease.  Our doctors are just different.

Explaining Tragedy To A Toddler

Thankfully my son is too young to understand what happened yesterday in Connecticut.  Thankfully he won't be haunted by bad dreams and he won't be clinging to me with fear when we drop him off for Nursery at church tomorrow.  However, this moment in time gives me a chance, as his mom, to practice what I would say to him as he gets older when this kind of thing happens again (because we all know what happens when you take God out schools and madmen get hold of a gun and no legal citizen is allowed to take a gun into a school to protect the kids...this could turn into a different kind of post and I don't want to make political statements here).

Last night, while my husband was at the Hobbit with his dad, I explained a few things to my son.  I told him that evil people do evil things.  Sometimes God can't stop evil people from doing evil things because we all have a choice to make about our actions.  If someone chooses evil and turns away from doing what God says, well then he makes a choice like this one and innocent people sometimes pay the price for it.

I told him that God is good and God loves him.  I told him that Christmas is when Jesus was born and we need to remember that God came to earth as a baby to bring us back to Him.  I told him that even though these 27 people died in a bad way that God would help us find something good to take out of it and that if we were sad, God would comfort us if we asked Him to.  I also told him that his mommy and daddy would do everything they could to keep him safe, that his aunts and uncles and grandparents would keep him safe too.  I told him that the people at church wouldn't let someone else hurt him while he was there with them and that Uncle Tony would stop someone from hurting him with a gun.  (Again, this could get political, but I live in Iowa and we have conceal carry laws here.  If you don't like that, refer back to the Constitution and the Second Amendment.)

After this little one sided conversation, 2.0 went back to his Duplos and started throwing them around the living room, trying to build things with a combination of Mega Blocks and Duplos without realizing the two don't mix.  He didn't have nightmares last night and he was a happy-go-lucky little boy today with his Meemaw.  I get to hug him and cuddle him and play with him while there are families who aren't that lucky today.

Someday he's going to participate in this kind of conversation.  I wish I hadn't had to practice it with him last night.

Parenting Is Not For Wimps

It's so easy to criticize a mom for breastfeeding her 4 year old isn't it?  It's easy to dismiss it as gross or label it as abuse.  That mom who is wearing her baby in a Moby wrap at the grocery store must be attempting to establish a relationship with her child that leaves the child completely dependent on the mom, even through adulthood.  And that dad that shamed his son for wearing clothes that made the boy look like a fool?  He's a bully and a terrible parent.

I think there's nothing wrong with a mom breastfeeding her child until the child wants to stop or until her milk is gone.  If that means her child is 4, well isn't that between the mom and the child?  My son is almost two and if my milk hadn't dried up, 2.0 would still be breastfed.  Breastfeeding is good for the child and it's good for the mom.  It establishes a bond with the mom that the child will have with no other person.  If a mom can't breastfeed, she's made to believe that she's a horrible person too.  No matter what a mom does, she can't do it right.

Here's what my parenting philosophy is:

• I stay home with my child because I don't want him to be raised by anyone else.  There's nothing wrong with daycare if the place is a good place.  I just chose to keep my son with me.  
• I breastfed my child for as long as I could.  Cow milk is for cows and human milk is for humans.  When 2.0 was living off of my milk, that was the best thing for him.  Now he eats other things, but if I could still breastfeed, he'd still get some kind of breast milk if he wanted it.
• I spank my son.  I do this because he needs to have bad behavior corrected in a way that reminds him that the behavior was wrong in the future.  I was spanked and I'm a well rounded individual.  I don't spank him with objects and I only use an open hand.  My son doesn't have bruises or welts on him from my discipline or his father's discipline.  
• I like to spend time with my child.  I don't like to rely on babysitters.  I also like to be a part of his bedtime routine.  We do have babysitters occasionally because it's nice to go out and see a movie or spend time with adults without our child around.  But I like to be the one taking care of my child.  I gave birth to him.  I'm responsible for him.  Yes it's important that 2.0 realizes that Mommy and Daddy leave sometimes, but that Mommy and Daddy always come back.  And yes, I've spent a few nights away from him.  I also enjoy his company and want to spend a lot of time with him.
• I don't feed my son organic food.  He eats what I eat and I don't eat organic food.  He also gets to have chips every now and then.  He eats chicken nuggets and mac and cheese and french fries.  Does he eat that stuff all the time?  No.  He gets fruits and veggies too.  He gets plenty of protein and whole grains.  He doesn't drink a lot of juice.  He drinks water and milk.  I don't think it's bad that he doesn't get much more of a variety.  But I do give him Crystal Light.  
• I didn't sleep-train my child.  If he was up in the middle of the night, there was a reason.  I don't believe that 2.0 has the mental capability to emotionally blackmail me or to manipulate me.  He had a hard time sleeping through the night and just recently started sleeping well reliably.  When he was a little baby, I expected to get up with him.  I think that anyone who lets a child scream and cry in a crib as a way of teaching the child to be independent is being counterproductive.  The child only learns that no one will meet his needs if he cries when he's left to cry himself to sleep.  

I am my son's mom for the rest of my life.  I will always love him and care about him.  I won't always be responsible for him though.  Right now I am.  The choices I make on his behalf right now will echo through his life.  I'm just trying to make the right ones.

Instinct and Medical Care

A family in Phoenix is watching an 11 year old girl suffer with leukemia.  This poor girl had to have one of her arms amputated after she contracted a bacterial infection that was resistant to antibiotics (gee, I have absolutely no idea what that's like).  When the father of the girl was asked about his insurance coverage and how they would pay the ever escalating bills for her care, the father became concerned.  What does a family do when faced with this situation?

They sneaked the girl out of the hospital and took her back to family in Mexico.  While both parents are legal citizens here, they thought this little one would be safer in another country.

Normally this wouldn't be news and no one would even notice it had happened.  But this time, the police in Phoenix brought the father in for questioning when he came into the US from Mexico and ordered the mother (who is still out of the country with the daughter) to bring her back to the hospital they had taken her from for further treatment immediately.

I don't know about you, but I know my child.  I know when he's not quite right and when he needs to see the doctor.  I know when he's seriously ill and needs an emergency room instead of a doctor.  I know when an injury is a big deal and when it isn't.  I think I'm a very good judge of my son's well being.  If my child were in the same situation, I would've taken him from the hospital too.  The police department has absolutely no say in where my child receives medical care and if he receives care at all.

Now there are people in society today who think that what these parents did was tantamount to child abuse. I disagree.  The little girl is receiving medical care, it just isn't at the hospital she was being treated at previously.  The only thing her parents did was take her to a hospital that would provide better care in their opinion.  When did that become child abuse?

Last week I waited for two hours in my underwear and t-shirt for a doctor to look at an area on my body that I suspected was infected with MRSA yet again.  After two hours, I simply got up, dressed, and left untreated. That spot is indeed infected with MRSA, had to be opened and drained, and probably wouldn't be as bad today if it had been treated when I went in the first time.  If my son were in a similar situation and I decided to take him home or to go to the ER for care or another doctor's office, would I be committing child abuse?  No.  In fact, the healthcare professionals I've spoken with have told me that the way I was treated was unacceptable and that they all would've lost their jobs had they treated me in that way.

This story out of Phoenix comes down to the parents and whether or not they were comfortable with their child's care.  They decided they were no longer happy with the way their child was being treated and wanted to seek help somewhere else.  If I had been questioned about my insurance and the bill while my child is still being treated, I think I would've been uncomfortable with that too.

It's a very scary thing to think that the government and local police are now trying to take charge of a child's medical care when her parents are both mentally capable and alive.  I don't think it's the business of anyone but my husband and I as to what kind of treatment our son receives if he receives any treatment at all.

If Mommy Goes To The Hospital...

I was so close to the finish line.  So very close.  But alas, that finish line has now been pushed back to indefinitely.

I have MRSA again.  Twice over.  It's very painful and it is leaving me with very little energy since I have been suffering from insomnia as well.  I'm pretty much confined to the couch on my right side so there's no pressure on the wounds themselves.  I can't play with my son.  I can't do a lot of the housework.  I'm just stuck here.

Today when I saw the doctor yet again, I was told that if this infection doesn't start to resolve itself, I might end up in the hospital having surgery to completely remove the infected tissue and take a full course of IV antibiotics.  When I thought about going back to the hospital, I certainly didn't think it would be under these circumstances.

I was prepared to explain to 2.0 that Mommy would be going to the hospital to have a baby as I thought that would be the next time I'd have to go and stay for awhile.  Now I'm trying to figure out how to tell 2.0 that Mommy has to go to the hospital for an operation and that Mommy might not be home for a little while.

Mostly my heart is just breaking over the thought of missing him and Nate.  I won't be here for naptime or bedtime or playtime.  I'd miss so much.

I'm praying right now that this whole thing will resolve itself and that I'll be able to stay home.  Even if I have to have a nurse come see me at home, I'd rather be here instead of the hospital.