Pure.Joy.

This phrase, Pure Joy, is one that is embroidered into a beautiful blanket that was given to my sweet baby Ab after her birth. It was a gift from her Aunt Donna. 

As a brand new mother, I remember reading the phrase and feeling it resonate somewhere in my newly expanded heart.  A heart that was just discovering how much feeling it could encompass.

As my family and I have dealt with our challenges, this phrase rings true and pure.  It is guaranteed I will continue to have days that are not so joyful...but, overall, things are pretty dang good.  There is always a balance in blessings and trials; we just have to open our tired and often heavy eyes.

So, in that spirit, I am going to attempt to document my joys at least weekly.  Those moments, as brief as they are at times, that swell my heart with pure joy.

Pure.Joy.

*I got to hold Ab in my arms, cradled like a baby yesterday.  She had to have a strep test done, an experience which was far from joyful (she literally ran away and attempted to escape the doctor's office)...but, the aftermath was heavenly. She let me comfort and rock her, her long legs nearly touching the floor.  Such a rare, joyful few mintues.

*I picked a very happy Deak up from preschool yesterday.  He LOVES, LOVES school this year.  His new teacher, Miss Meegan, told me that she had happened to run into Deak's preschool teacher from last year.  Deak's old preschool teacher asked how Deak was doing and then snidely said, "Oh..he just cries. All he does is cry, right?"  Miss Meegan said she got angry and responded, "I do not know what Deakon you are talking about. The Deakon I know never, ever cries. Ever. He is happy and laughs all the time. So, unless you are referring to a Deakon who laughs all the time, I have no idea what to say."

Can you say, LOVE?  I love her; love that she loves Deakon, and LOVE that she stood up for him during a time she truly did not have to.

*I learned how to make peach jam Sunday. I also learned a little bit about canning (I've only canned once, and I don't remember much).  Not only is the peach jam to DIE for, the time spent with a friend who "gets" me was priceless. She even taught me how to use a knife...which is a feat. I've cut my hands open too many times to count and have an irrational phobia of using knives.  Btw...She also did not judge my irrational phobia.:)

*Ab is a determined child.  She earned her bitty twins and has really worked hard on managing herself and her emotions during this somewhat chaotic time in our house. She is tough.  She has also recently decided she loves goalie...something that makes me extremely nervous. Last weekend, she caught a goal, and dove on two others.  She was awesome.  I promise, this girl will do ANYTHING she puts her mind to (which, as her parent, is a little bit of a frightening thought).

*On Sunday while getting ready for church, I stepped outside of the bathroom and discovered Ab lying on the floor reading books to Deak. No one had asked. Deak kept handing her a new one each time she finished, and she'd say, "Okay...one more."

*I stopped myself from getting into one of those infamous facebook fights (don't tell me you haven't been there). I may have had to give my iPhone a time out in order to refrain from pushing send...but, it worked. Props to me for self-control.

*Deak, Deak, Deak. Man...he is just joy in bottle. He is in a super crazy social butterfly stage and whole-heartily believes everyone in the universe wants to be his best friend and jump with him. He flirted with a waitress this week and blew her kisses...and attempted to "share" (stuff in his face) pumpkin bread with another waiter.  He loves life, and I love him.

*On another Deak note, he has recently discovered a love for singing...which is an interesting, albeit quite lovely, talent when one possesses a very limited vocal vocabulary.  During church, while the congregation is singing hymns, he sings "AHHH" at the top of his lungs and attempts to vocally fluctuate with the tone and flow of the song. He also claps after each verse. It is the epitome of singing with one's heart....pure.joy.

So, there it is...my attempt at beginning to record these little moments that fill me up with happy.

What an awesome week I've had...

Cardigans.

I apparently have a problem.
A sweater problem.
Most specifically...a problem with cardigans.

This apparent problem came to light while shopping in Park City over Labor Day weekend with the five hundred thousand other people who decided to journey to the Outlets.

J Crew was having a fantastic sale.

I love J Crew...like love, love it.

I may or may not have sacrificed eating at times last year to buy a few items.

I went throughout the store without Deakon, which in and out of itself was mind-boggling exciting.

So much so, that I just kept grabbing and grabbing and grabbing.

I've perfected drive by clothes shopping.

A learned technique I'm sure most mothers acquire after several failed attempts to shop/try-on/buy in the same outing with a toddler...albeit a special needs toddler who has very LOUD reactions to the stroller when it slows down and stops.  (And, by LOUD, I mean like social services referral kind of LOUD.  I've also perfected a drive by grocery shopping technique, but I digress.)

So, I've got my gat, oops...purse and I'm locked and loaded. My arms are full of items I was certain I needed very badly (I'll have you know I did stop from grabbing the bright citrus yellow pea coat...it was difficult).

Anyway...as I am waiting in the forever long line, my damn conscious decides to make an appearance and I begin to feel guilty about spending money on myself. So, I looked in my arms and began the dreaded decision-making process.  As I filtered through the stuff, I noticed a pattern: gray light-weight cashmere cardigan, dark navy ruffled cardigan, creme tied cardigan, gray (yes, again) animal print 3/4 length sleeve cardigan...with a couple random tee shirts thrown in for good measure.

I thought, "Hmm...these cardigans are really cute, and I have lots of them...they must be in or something this season." Completely unobservant of the fact I was already wearing a newly bought Nordstrom's Sale find, that just so happened to be...a cardigan.

I, much like a toddler attempting to put toys back at Target, began setting aside items I deemed not absolutely necessary (because really people...the dark navy ruffled cardigan IS a necessary item).  By the time it was my turn to check out, I managed to have only four items in my possession; two cardigans, a tee shirt, and a tank. I was fairly proud.

As the cute, trendy, skinny, twenty-something , blond girl at the counter began folding my items, she glanced at them, looked at me, and said, "Um...do you happen to be a teacher?"

"Wow," I thought. "How in the heck did she know that?"

(And...for the record...I am not a teacher, but work at a school...so the ID counts:)

I replied, "Yes...I actually am."

She smiled knowingly and let me know that teachers who show an ID get an additional 15% off at J Crew every.single.day.all.year.long.

-Jackpot-

So...I am feeling pretty dang good as I begin to walk through the massive amounts of chaotic crowds to find Blair and Deak. I was soooo sure Blair would be so super excited about my purchase..(said very genuinely and completely without any ounce of sarcasm).

When I found them, I began relaying the awesomeness of the 15% off score I had been offered by the very nice sales person at J Crew.  I then mentioned how I could not understand how she knew I would qualify for this discount.

Blair gave me one of those looks and said, "Umm....maybe the fact that you are wearing a cardigan, and wanted to buy like 500 more was a real good clue."

Then he laughed at me.

Rude, I know.

I was mad for a sec, but then I thought it was funny.

I do only buy cardigans.

In fact, I wear them 75% of the time. I don't care if it's 92 degrees...a cardigan is even-tempered.

I feel balanced when I wear a cardigan.

I even feel a little cute.

I love them.

And, yes, maybe there are lots and lots of professional women in the education industry that enjoy themselves a cardigan or two...but, that doesn't mean they don't still rock.

I even think they are kind of sexy with the right pair of heels.

I am in that stage of life.

The "Cardigans are Sexy" stage of life.

And....I love it.

I might just buy another one tomorrow.

New School Year, New First Days.

Ab and Deak's first days of school were a couple weeks apart this year. Both of their first days made me extremely nervous this year for different reasons. I just want so badly for my children to feel loved when I hand them over to their teachers. I may be a complete nutcase about this, I mean really, I work in Elementary schools, but I don't care. The mother bear has to come out from hibernation time to time...

Third Grade:

Ab was up at 6:30, fully clothed (including backpack) and ready for me to curl her hair.

I was still sleeping.

But, I got up.

Ab is most excited to learn cursive this year, and is most nervous about times tables.

As if she has anything to be nervous about...Miss Smarty Pants.

Ab and Em (her Bff)

My personal favorite...I know she loved my picture taking inside her classroom.

Second Year of Preschool:

Good freaking bye to last year's preschool and teacher.

Deak was so nervous for school this year, with good reason.  We had a terrible experience last year, survived a three hour IEP/Brawl and changed classrooms.

I told Deak all week that it was a new school and new teacher, but he still was NOT into it. Before school, on the first day, I got his orthotics and his walker out (Two sure signs he is going to school). He instantly began shaking his head no..over and over.

Poor kid is traumatized.

Makes me want to fight those people all over again.

I did my research and visited programs last Spring and found a new placement with wonderful people who love their job.

And, guess what? They love my Deak.

I arrived to pick him up on the first day, and Deak was cuddled in a rocking chair with his teacher.

I wanted to hug her.

Then, a different teacher (there are three teachers, not including therapists, and only six children), said unprovoked, "Your child is a joy. An absolute joy of a human being. He is happy and laughs, and we are going to have so much fun with him here."

Yes, I cried.

Yes...I am crying now as I type this.

Here is the three picture montage of Deak refusing to open his eyes while smiling, inside his classroom.

Pure joy.

Both of them.

Bangs and Earrings.

Cute Ab got her ears pierced yesterday while in Park City.

She even asked to hold my hand while getting it done (a request I am still relishing...that, and the "Mom, I appreciate you" that came while fishing for compliments after making dinner tonight).

She has been wanting this for a long, long time and was pretty excited to finally have them done.

As we left Claire's Boutique and began walking towards the car she excitedly said, "Mom...Now I have Bangs AND Earrings."  Between that statement and her huge smile, I knew she felt like the cutest eight year old around. 

(I happen to think she's right).

I sat in the car and remembered for a moment.

I remembered a time when bangs and earrings might have been enough for me to feel good.
(Although I could never quite perfect the fluffed up backwards top curl...so jealous of those girls who could)

I then decided it should be enough now.
I too, can find those little pieces of happy.

In fact, I have bangs and earrings in today...and today, I am feeling good.

Thanks to my sweet Ab for the reminder.

Good times are Coming...

I'm feeling good today.

*The Utes won in a crazy, intense, overtime game.

*I'm heading with family out of town (Park City) for Labor Day weekend this afternoon, and there is a Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory within walking distance.

*My darling Ab is back. She has been bravely handling all these changes, but at times, her little eight year old body has struggled with figuring out how to deal with it all. I know, all kids go through stages...but, I love my Ab just the way she is. I'd prefer the emotional stability stick around for good. (In all honesty, a little "positive reinforcement" (aka bribery) in the form of American Girl Bitty Baby Twins may have aided the rapid change of attitude just a tad. Who doesn't need a little motivation from time to time??)

*I am just in love with my Deak and his fun stage he is in right now. Now that he is independently moving and communicating more...he is just so dang happy all the time. I had to wake him from a dead sleep this morning to take him to a sitter's home; he squinted his eyes, got up on his knees and held his arms for me. Within two minutes he was drinking his chocolate milk, blowing me kisses and laughing. I have so much to learn from him.

*I have great people in my life. You just happen to know when I need your emails, texts, calls, dinners or treats. My husband even surprised me with a present on the day I wrote my last post. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking of how much your support has sustained me during some of my darker days. Acknowledging that I have those days has been extremely helpful in helping my heart process through some of this stuff, and I appreciate your lack of judgement and true, sincere love and service.  Means more than you know...

Here's to happy Holiday weekend things for all of you...

Displaced.

Sometimes I really hate my degree. Six years of school left me with the natural tenancy to over analyze and think, think, think.

(Not that I was born with that tenancy at all....HA!)

With this education came all sorts of terms and definitions:

Repressed

De-escalation

Subconscious, Ego, Id, Superego (Thank you Freud)

...Displaced...

Specifically, displaced anger.

It has found a home in my body this week, and it is an ugly and messy house guest.

I am angry I have to make decisions NOW.

I am angry I will have to deal with giving myself and Deak a shot everyday.

I am angry those shots cost money.

I am angry that my right hand cannot tie the freaking ribbons around the buckets I am creating for all 49 of my classes.

I am angry that I cannot get my son out of the bathtub without the fear that I will drop and hurt him.

I am angry that my shoes don't always love my right foot anymore.

I am angry my right shoulder, neck and arm have been in pain for 24 hours.

I am angry that even if I sleep ten hours at night I still feel as if I am hungover in the morning.

I am angry I keep visualizing my MRI with the big lesion on my brain every.single.night.

I am angry.

But, I don't tell you that...

I tell you I'm fine, and managing, and things are coming together nicely.

Which is true when my mind is visiting better places.

But, for today and most of this past week...my mind has been visiting Iraq (which I am only assuming is not an ideal vacation spot).

The "displaced" part of this anger comes in several forms (sorry Blair), but is most noticeable when anyone (and I mean anyone) complains of any type of health issue.  The irrational thought process sounds a lot like this:

A random person is on the news complaining about the flu...suddenly I get a strong urge to stand up, punch them in face and say, "Really? So sorry you got the flu for 24 hours. How about you try to work full time, raise two kids - one who eight, darling and at times emotionally unstable...and another who is four, 35 lbs, happy and at times struggles with pretty major stuff.  Try to do all that AND the laundry, and pack lunches, and clean, and be a good friend/family member/parent, and shower.  AND...try to do all that with a dead right arm, numb right foot and the impending implication that this could possibly be the "easy" stages of the disease.  Get the f up and deal with it, you baby."

Sick right?

I know.

It's horrible and mean and I really hate the fact that I have these thoughts right now. This stupid degree reminds me every single time the thoughts appear: they are not healthy (you think?), they are irrational, they will bring absolutely no resolution to the issues I'm dealing with, and they will eventually cause feelings of guilt and remorse.

But, I kinda want to punch my degree (and my moral compass) in the face too.  I've been rational 95% of my life, and part of me thinks it is due time I let that 5% have some fun.

But, the rational (and hopefully kind) part of me will win.

I want to keep my friends and family members.

I like them a lot.

I hope they'll excuse my displaced anger filled rages and still want me around.

I promise, it will get better, and I will be nicer soon.