New Balance: Lagom

Rachael and I returned to working in the brick and

mortar classroom on our campuses. We have been

training, collaborating, planning, and researching.

We are organizing, cleaning out, and arranging

student seats. We are re-imagining, re-learning,

re-trying, and re-tooling education. We are comparing

masks and how to keep our glasses from fogging

and our nostrils from drying out.  This is a relentlessly

stress filled, overwhelming time for teachers and yet

it’s exciting! Nevertheless, it is good to be on campus

with my peers preparing for my future Loves to join us.

My fellow teachers, administrators, and staff bless

me every day and make me a better person. 

The flip side of this is that I am not with Libby every

day now.  I am at school and she is either with Mariah

or Jennifer depending on the day. This is hard as I have

not ever had the chance to spend this much time with

either of my children. I have spent my parenting years

working at least one job and going to school for my own education.  I lost a lot of time with my girls.

The last five months have been challenging

and a great blessing. I didn't get to see Mariah as much,

but we were able to talk more. There are many other words to convey what this time meant for me, but words fail me.Truly a stressful godsend to have that time with her.  She is now up several pounds and has filled out quite a bit! She is even wearing some adult-sized clothes again.  

After her drastic weight loss a year and a half ago, I went through her clothes but held on to many that I hoped she would gain back the weight needed.  That alone is wonderful as we have scaled back on the number of tube feedings she gets in a day. She got her tube replaced last week and we were lucky to get her in when we did- right before the tube popped out.   I'll continue to monitor her intake and struggles with Parkinson's swallow to adjust her caloric

intake as needed.

The stress is real in the land of education. The level of uncertainty as we create new norms in education is real and overwhelming. The cognitive load is great and overwhelming. Yet, we will preserver. We will learn and adapt and do what is needed for our students, parents and peers.

Beautiful teachers stay strong. We can do this.

To all reading this please that you are loved and are worth far more than you know. 

Ileana

Selah

Selah is found 71 times in the book of Psalms

and three times in the book of Habakkuk. There

are many different definitions for this

beautiful word: in Greek, it is an interlude or

intermission, in Hebrew, it can be a break,

a silence, a pause, in Arabic, it is a prayer or

a connection.  Other sources refer to Selah

as a rock or even forever.  Early in my church

years, I learned that this was a time to rest. 

A holiday. A break.  Respite.

Although this was forced upon us, quarantine

has offered Selah, a time to slow down. 

To enjoy the time with Liberty and to see her

for her beautiful self as she is today. To

embrace the time with Rachael

and love her through her healing. 

To relish the conversations

with my family and cull out time

together. To delight in seeing Mariah and

her new husband as they create

a life of love. I have also learned many

things about myself.  To appreciate the

beauty that is to sleep and sit and be

still (as best as I can).

Selah. 

With this forced rest, I have come to realize

that I need to listen to the immense noise in

my head and categorize it as

useful or useless.  Much of the discordance

in my world is my own symphony less and

full. Useful noise may be reminders of what I

need to get done and has notes I can follow. 

Useless maybe guilt over believed past

transgressions or even presumed failures

and follows no rhythm. Useful noise can be

unpacked and taken care of.  Useless

noise cannot.  Too often, the useless noise

has occupied

my mind and kept me doing what needs
to be done. 

My brain tends to go 100 miles an hour 24

hours a day. I have spent years forcing it

to slow down so that I can sleep.  I’ve often

mused that it takes a freight train to slow

me down. Once I gave myself permission

to stop and listen,

I can put that cacophony into a pile and

either deal with it or throw it out.  Mostly. 

I am a work in progress.  A new skill I

am hoping to hone over time. Like most

things worth listening to, well done practice

is key.

Blessed with a beginning melody of Selah of

the mind untangling these noises have been

easy- in a way.  Useful noise is positive and

useless noise is ugly.  I’ve learned that the

most important conversation

I am going to have is with myself, and my

interior dialogue was terrible.  Mean. Ugly.

And riddled with self-deprecation.  Now,

when my revelry is interrupted, usually

when I am exhausted or overwhelmed,

I can call the useless noise what it is and

move on.  Just like in real life, I don’t have

to join the refrain.  

Being a mom to a child with many special

needs is a heavy gift to bear. At times is a

heavy burden that broke me. Other times

it has hurt so much I wish I had broke.

But at all times, loving Liberty is the

easiest thing to do. Even when she is

crying and no one knows why except her.

Even when she lost the ability to control

her speech, arms, her legs, her bladder

and her bowels. Wonderfully, she hasn't

lost her smile. This isn't any gig full of restful

phases; it is too often a crescendo

of heavy overwhelming growth. Yet it is

so worth it.

The moments of Selah are beyond.

Rona has forced me to listen.  To hold the

rest as important as the notes in between.

In this, I have been blessed.  This

time is ending.  I hope to keep the true

sense of Selah with

me in all of the varieties
of the word.  

For all of us, I hope that we can find and keep

our concerto of Selah going as we return to

in-person working.  Taking the positive lessons

from the quarantine with us may be the hardest

lesson of all. I wish you will know you are needed.

And appreciated. And capable.  And loved.

And your own Selah.  And maybe, we are

Selah to another who

needs it.

I am grateful.

Be safe and well.

ileana

 **Capitalizing the word Selah for effect**

Busy

 
      Sometimes I dream of the Liberty we had.  In my dream she is supposed to be inside playing, instead she is high up in a tree.  Her hair is in pig-tails and she is wearing her Crocodile Hunter outfit. There are dinosaurs in her pockets. Or laying on the trampoline with her dogs. Or she's built a blanket fort and is singing to her stuffed animals, or her dinosaurs.  Whatever is in this version of the Liberty dream, you can assume she is doing her own thing and she is busy.  And I am busy as well. I prayed several times for this dream to change and that I would go and watch her play (or join her). Sometimes it happens. 
      I was not a child who could be still.  Ever.  From what I have been told, I was busy.   About the only things that seemed to settle me were music or sitting on Grandma's lap while she read to me. Beautiful Mariah could sit and play or cuddle and watch a movie- most of the time. Like the wind, she could have some super active times, but her movies would keep her attention for long periods of time. Now, Liberty.  Sweet Liberty was always busy as well.  She climbed out of her crib at nine months old.  She was uncontainable from then on. Grandma told me Libby's truth was in her name.   I had claimed her business when I named her.   That hasn't changed much. 
       Even now, Liberty is busy.  Her body is stiff and mostly unmoveable.  She doesn't have control over it, but her body continues to move.  All the time.  Sleeping, wide awake, eating, laughing, or pottying her body is moving to its own rhythm.  She has Deep Brain Stimulators, one of each side of her brain to calm her body down. She has a Baclofen pump that is routed through her spinal column giving her muscle relaxant continuously throughout the day.  She takes a Parkinson's med five times a day to slow the jerkiness of her muscles.  All of that and yet she is busy.
       During this time of quarantine, I have been able to see Libby for who she is now.  She is still sweet and funny we just have to pay attention to when she can let it out.  She gets impatient at times.  She is sappy and lovey at times.   She is tired a lot of the time. Blessed by this time with her, I have been able to get to know and see her for who she is now.   This is not the child I had ten years ago.  Or five. Or two years ago.  She is different.  She has to be.  Her body and brain has betrayed her, and all of us, in many ways.  I could be angry and sad, so very sad, at this betrayal, but that has consumed far too much energy already.  I can see her for the completely different and beautiful person she is.
      She still has a voice, of sorts.  Even though we are down to one-syllable words generally as responses.  I miss getting to actually converse with her.  So much.  I'd much rather talk with her instead of talking for her, but here we are.
      Please do not think this is a sad post.  It really isn't.  For the first time in my life as a mother, I have been home with my kid.  I never got to be home with Mariah.  I started working full time when Mariah was five weeks old.  I returned to work when Libby was six weeks old.  I have never not had at least one full-time job or at least two part-time jobs. I missed so much of my girls working for us.  So much.   I regret the time I missed with them, but I did what I thought I needed to do to provide for them. I now know this regular mom guilt.  I was busy.
      This time that quarantine has given us has been a blessing.  I believe this time has prepared me in some ways for our future with Liberty.  I feel more intuned to her body than I have in a very long time.  Life may not ever be this slow again.  Hopefully never again due to a viral pandemic!  I have learned so much from this time and do not want everything to go back to normal.   Our normal was already wonky, and I look forward to creating a new normal.  A normal that is slower in some ways.

       **We have been converting some of our family movies to digital downloads.  I was able to actually one video with Liberty playing.  For years, I could not even look at her younger pictures.  I feared I would cleave in two.  The half of me that is Liberty's would implode.  But I didn't tear apart. I saw the pictures from before.  Before the illness.  Before her body quit.  I watched and cried.  I let myself just cry and laugh and cry some more.  I sat in that revelry.  The beautiful sadness that is this kind of change in a child, or any loved one.  I sat there and watched.   And it hurt to my core, but I did not rip apart. I needed to not be busy and simply see her when she was.  For who she was so that I could see her more clearly today.  Isn't that crazy?!
       Let's think now about how to not be so busy.

        Be blessed and stay safe.  Know that you loved and needed.  We all need each other.

Zombie Apocalypse be Damned

      We had a plan (I had a plan) for the predicted Zombie Apocalypse for a long time.  The plan included using me as the scavenger and Rachael as the defender of our home.  We would keep the girls and ourselves safe that way.  In the perfect scenario, Mariah and her Derrick would be home safe and sound with us.  Linda, Jennifer and her crew would make their way here and we would hole up together.  We had food and space to keep us all safe- wait, everyone’s got their own life now.   And then the Big Q happened.  Quarantine due to COVID 19 happened and everyone was shut into their own home bases. 
      We were both teaching our classes using Google Classroom and Google Meets.  Libby didn't understand why she wasn't getting to see her people, except weekly visits from Grandma Linda.  The feeding, medicating, lifting, bathing, adjusting, moving, tube feeding and potty changing schedule stayed pretty much the same.  Except now, we were bouncing into the front room to get Libby taken care of.  Keeping her on her regular school schedule helped keep her in stasis; I think. And keeping a schedule keeps me sane.  (I have changed Libby while on a Google Meet with my a group of my students.  No body parts were shown, yet I was mortified.)
      And then one morning after six weeks of mandated quarantining at home we realized the zombies had been attacking already. Rachael had to drive herself to the local clinic.  We thought she had a UTI.  Two weeks more and she was driving herself to the emergency room in the middle of the quarantine when NO ONE wants to be in an emergency room.  She was now through two rounds of antibiotics and was still in extremely progressive pain. 

     She was alone.  Libby and I were alone at home waiting for news. This was excruciating.   
     She had an initial emergency surgery to get what we now know was part of the infected diverticulae removed from her intestines.  Six days later she was taken in for a six plus hour longer surgery and over eight inches of her colon was removed. 
      Because of quarantine none of us could go and visit.  I wasn't given face to face directions on how to take care of her.  I was allowed to drop off clothes. I also included notes to her from Libby and I, as well as graduation announcements from her beloved students.  She’s now been home almost nine weeks.   

We have learned a lot since Rachael’s surgery including how much we need Rachael to be healthy.  And how much she was missed while in the hospital. We’ve learned to be gentle to each other. 

 We’ve learned how to close down our classes using remote learning.  (Although saying goodbye to this group of students may take several more years. These sweet birds were released before we were ready!)  

This illness and then surgery was a hard blow. And ugly blow, but like so many other things we’ve been able to move on.  We had to move forward, and I feel blessed to have the chance to keep going. 

Today is eight weeks. Eight weeks since her surgery and I am so very proud of how determined she is to regain her health.  Since her release from the hospital, she’s slowly begun walking loops around our block and has now returned to loops around the school track. We’ve been able to take Liberty to Cook Children’s to get her Baclofen pump refilled.  Only one parent allowed with the child in the hospital, so Rachael waited outside. Make several of her own doctor appointments and a feeding tube replacement in Amarillo for Libby. We were also able to get away for two quick nights- thank you!!  

So.  It’s been eight weeks for my own personal apocalypse. No zombies, just several wrenches thrown into our ever spinning world. It’s not the zombies that are so terrifying, the truth is it is the fear of the unknown that so many fear.  

I’ve learned that even in the most terrifying times, my faith is what holds me and gives me the strength to fight.  To keep moving.  Because truly, what is the other option?  Hide under the bed?  Nope.  Got to keep getting up and kicking ass everyday.  

      So apocalypse be damned. 

It's not A lot, but it is Enough (Or, Maslow was Hellaciously Right)

Lesson Three from the Big Q: Not a lot, but enough 

(Or Maslow was Right)

In my world today, Maslow is completely right.  

I could could go professional if worrying was a 

sport. I think many of could. We know it’s 

useless, but it’s something our brain can do 

while so much is out of our control. It’s 

difficult to be able to think through paying the 

bills when I know we are low on toilet paper, 

and I’ve gone to three stores over two days to 

visit the empty shelves. (We're good now.) I can't 

seem to grade when I'm worrying about my 

students and their well being. It is almost 

impossible to concentrate on lesson plans 

when it's time to change Libby’s pull up and 

give her meds while I’m worrying about whether 

or not the supplies for her feeding tube will arrive 

this week. (The supplies didn’t arrive yet, but we’re 

alright for awhile.) I can clean, paint and reorganize 

instead of dwelling on my worries about family 

during the Q.  I admit I spent two full days worrying 

about the amount of wipes we have for Libby.

  (We had three unopened wipe packages, not a lot, 

but we have enough.) 

How on earth can these students focus on any 

lessons when they aren’t sure about their parents’ 

jobs, if they can stay in their house since they 

are the only one working, what the status of their 

scholarship is, loss of time with their friends, not to 

mention the insanely important connection to their 

boy/girl friend.  There are also students who 

are sequestered in a house which is negative, 

toxic, or abusive.  These and so many other things 

are racing through my brain and theirs, meanwhile 

I’m supposed to be sharing a wealth of knowledge 

about poetry analysis and prepping them for an AP 

exam.   Yep.   That fits.  

Hand in hand with all of these worries there is 

the loss we are dealing with, loss of the life we 

had in so many ways. A new version of our lives

is on the way, but we do need to acknowledge 

this loss.

We know that it is terribly hard to think anything 

through when we are worried about our physiological 

status and our safety. Here is a real picture of me 

trying to follow a single thought and get something 

done just about every day during the Big Q. 

 Here’s part of my plan since I need a plan.  And

a list.  An actual LIST- geez.   Okay, three lists.

  (I know my over-functioning anxiety response

is in full swing here. Just let me have my lists.) 

And feel free to completely ignore these lists.

1. I started making a blessing list every morning 

of at least three things.   This is helping me focus 

on what is good and that helps open some space 

for everything else. It’s not a lot, but it is usually 

enough to help me focus a bit.

2. I also list UP TO three things I am worried about. 

Then I ask myself if I have any control over whatever 

I am worrying about. If the answer is no, then I do  

two things:  Ask myself if I can help in any way and 

ask my Higher Power to take that on for me.  This 

has allowed me to find some focus.  Not a lot, 

but enough.    

3. I also list three things I can do that day that 

will make me feel better about myself or my 

surroundings.   For me, this usually involves 

physical movement and sweat.  OR putting 

up the laundry or the dishes once they're clean.   

It doesn’t have to be a lot, because we are all 

in a prolonged stress response.  Think about 

the fight or flight response that continues for 

weeks and weeks due to uncertainty and fear 

of the unknown.  What positive steps we make 

for ourselves or our surroundings don’t have to 

be a lot as they are enough.    

https://www.vice.com/en_ca/article/n7jap8/allostatic-load-is-the-reason-you-feel-anxious-stressed-from-isolation?utm_campaign=sharebutton

You are doing an amazing job of coping in this 

changed world.  I cannot tell what is coming in our 

future, but I can tell you that we will be okay.  The

one thing I know is that there is plenty of love.  

WE can make sure there is enough LOVE to go 

around for ourselves, our family, our chosen tribes, 

and those who challenge us.    May not think it is a 

lot, but it is enough.

(Soon enough it will be time for action, but first 

let's stay safe during the Q and focus on loving.)