Thursday, August 27, 2009

PMDD

For any of you who have read my posts this year, this will probably not come as a surprise, but I have been having "issues". I'm irritable and agitated most of the time, especially my pms time... Several friends have suggested I go see my doctor and get on some medicine or happy pills... I have resisted this prompting for over a year. I know so many people on "something" I had to wonder, is this all really necessary. Also, I all ready take several rx meds for my diabetes and hypothyroidism so I didn't really want to take more meds... I haven't had a good night sleep since the 3rd trimester of my twin pregnancy (I was on ambien). I do not have any of the fruits of the Holy Spirit, so sharing my faith would be a little, umm what shall I say, you want what I have... but who would want to have my anger, frustration, irritation, agitation, impatience...where is my peace, patience, gentleness, love... no one is attracted to my fruit.

Well after a complete meltdown last week (over not being able to find shoes for Kade...among other things) I decided to ask my husband if he thought I needed medicine...his answer was a very definitive, resounding...YES. When asked why he hadn't said something, he replied "I didn't want to make you angry" Well I went to the MD today. I started my new med today and he also gave me something to help me sleep. Praise God, I can't wait to go to be tonight! Beau will be glad to not be woken up to turn over (he snores loudly) or to rub my back (because I have been awake for 2 hours and can't sleep).

I just thought in all honesty and transparency that I should share that parenting a 14 y/o "man", and 10 y/o boy and 2 toddlers is exhausting, constant, demanding, and not usually very rewarding. I have not handled it well and finally realized that if something didn't change soon, I may permanently damage the spirits and emotions of my precious and much loved children.

I will keep my blog updated with my progress with my "psychotic behavior" as I call it and will hopefully begin to start producing the fruits that God wants to see in my life.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Invisible mom

A friend emailed this to me. I've read it before, but I really needed to read it again! I know I'll need to remember that God sees it all. I decided to post it for any of you you might feel invisible and for myself!

The Invisible Mom
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.' I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!? One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it t o me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.' In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything. A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it. And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.' I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become. At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree. When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there..' As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women. Great Job, MOM! Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know... I just did. The Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you. This is beautiful and makes a ton of sense. To all the wonderful mothers out there.