tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71335226618132468342024-03-05T02:26:42.229-08:00Diamonds and PearlsPaula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-58574590234571043602015-06-18T13:24:00.000-07:002015-06-18T13:24:35.989-07:00The Gift of Confidence....I joined the Army in the '80s when the mantra was "Be the Best That You Can Be". I still sing that ditty from time to time. I know it sounds ridiculous, but that mantra really defined the way that I decided to live my life. And this now extends to my dear son. Quinn has always been different. I remember the caregivers at daycare comment when 6 month old Quinn reacted to other baby's cries--he was incredibly empathetic and would cry as well. As he became mobile, he would never take risks. We knew he'd never fall down the stairs, fall off the bed, or find himself in a precarious situation. He was a very cautious toddler and I was always confident that he wouldn't make any risky moves. Of course that's very comforting, right? He was an observer--he thought through crawling. When he decided it was time, he just did it--no army crawl, just full blown crawling. When he decided to walk--he just stood up and took steps. Potty training? 2 days and he got it. His skills at observation allowed him to perfect the skill in his head first, then physically. It's fascinating really.
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As he moved into pre-school, it was clear that this perfectionism was crippling to him. He does not practice--if he can't write his name right the first time, it isn't happening. He started calling himself names--dumb, stupid. I have no idea where he got these; he's never been called this in our home--these are words we don't even utter because they are so mean. His Montessori teachers are nurturing and loving and supportive. I began to see the spiraling cycle that would ultimately create a child riddled with anxiety and a lack of confidence. I knew exactly what he felt like. I could see me growing up through him. I get it.
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I don't want him to feel this way; I decided it was time for an intervention. So we made an appointment to get an evaluation at Children's Hospital Occupational Therapy. We recently completed that evaluation.
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Let me tell you, I was BLOWN AWAY. My little Quinn is an incredibly bright child who suffers from things most 5 year olds don't. Gravitational insecurity (not having at least one foot on the ground), environmental sensitivities, and processing differences. This doesn't make him a freak; it doesn't make him sick, nor does it make him special. There's no label--he's not autistic, he doesn't have ADD, nor does he have "fill-in-the-blank" syndrome. It just makes him Quinn.
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We've had 1 occupational therapy session, along with the evaluation.
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Here was Quinn on Saturday at Parker Days:
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He's BY HIMSELF on a carnival ride. He's 2 stories up. whoa. He went on this ride 6 times.
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The slide is huge. He went down this slide without hesitation.
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Sunday, as part of his homework, we went to a park. Isn't it awesome to have homework to go to a different park every weekend?! Right now, per Quinn's request, the park has to be empty. Fortunately, this one was.
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He actually climbed up this piece of equipment--no prompting....
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whoa... This was amazing. I think both Mike and I hid tears in our eyes upon watching Quinn do this.
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Quinn even joined hip hop at school--he's declined and even cried before to avoid all organized activities.
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I want Quinn to Be All That HE Can Be. And now I feel like he will gain the necessary skills to get one step closer. I'm so excited to see Quinn use his new skills--watch out world!!Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-90624266032288033542015-05-24T20:11:00.000-07:002015-05-24T20:18:54.549-07:00a boy and his dogEverything happens for a reason,yet sometimes it's tough to figure out the reason.
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One afternoon about 4 months ago, Mike stopped at Petsmart and happened upon dog rescuers - they were there with several dogs up for adoption. Long story short, Mike signed us up to foster dogs for them. I didn't mind - I'm always happy to help animal rescue. He signed us up to foster a puppy, but when we went to pick up the puppy, he was adopted. So we brought home another dog-a one year old 50 pound mutt. We sucked at fostering as Baylee never returned to the adoption event.
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She quickly settled in. And then became a typical 1 year old 50 pound puppy--crazy!
We didn't want 4 dogs. Who wants 4 dogs?? But everything happens for a reason--sometimes reasons are realized long after the question is posed. Sometimes the reason never presents itself. In the case of Baylee joining our family, creating mayhem and upheaval, as well as eating a chair, the reason for her did not take long to present itself.
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When I was a kid, my best friends were my animals. Quinn, as an only child, is finding friendship in our dogs. Today he was trying to feed worms to Baylee; she wasn't having it. I don't blame her. But her patience is always unflappable. She watches over her boy, so Quinn can play in the back yard with more confidence from me that he is safe.
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Four dogs are mayhem to be sure, but it's looking outside today seeing Baylee and Quinn playing that brings a sense of peace--her entry into our life was meant to be and is perfect-despite all the craziness! I look forward to her settling down, to many camping trips with her, to hikes and swims.
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And this one has insurance, since every dog we adopt ends up with huge medical issues!Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-16924155521019033372015-05-14T20:37:00.000-07:002015-05-14T20:37:05.249-07:00The P wordPenis... Yep, I wrote it. It's a topic of conversation in our house this week, as our child presented his penis to his friends at school. Everyone has laughed this off; I have tried. Then I get a call from his teacher today and another mom has mentioned it. Fortunately (?) Quinn is not the only one who made such a presentation, but I'm mortified. But it's normal. Everything I've read says it's normal. His teacher has said it's normal. Other mom friends have said it's normal. Now that I'm not in the throes of an anxiety attack over it, I can reflect. And smile. Quinn says "I just wanted Lucia to be my best friend, so I showed her my penis". Then he says "But she told the teacher and now she's not going to be my best friend". out of the mouths.... and pants.... of babes.Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-21589794607279773572015-05-13T20:38:00.000-07:002015-05-13T20:38:40.369-07:00Picture of the Week--FurKids<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1U9Wki0xRYC_jJYpNaVs1n5LWX21ZIGCJvHj6qQjGT75aAfbu-CMgiXD0ccLfHOtVG6jNGHXM7d25Qq_nJ8EUUx3ESTMviABbGrRwGCmx9xRd3krc5GNGDhUGDl2EZ9nMA0nEUzgYJs/s1600/20150510_152113+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1U9Wki0xRYC_jJYpNaVs1n5LWX21ZIGCJvHj6qQjGT75aAfbu-CMgiXD0ccLfHOtVG6jNGHXM7d25Qq_nJ8EUUx3ESTMviABbGrRwGCmx9xRd3krc5GNGDhUGDl2EZ9nMA0nEUzgYJs/s320/20150510_152113+(2).jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh46BZYfzA8NMxKER0A9rTTEsFUrPptcICeSHVgUelGcK1uRCKDJ1W9TQHSJYIspUzFtHRLAXg7udJrdwmKO_1j_gjeU_JKZqnNh0uaHCmG1k0QW306mKVW5UVLbQpwLiBgEQS4F1sdeeY/s1600/20150510_152219+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh46BZYfzA8NMxKER0A9rTTEsFUrPptcICeSHVgUelGcK1uRCKDJ1W9TQHSJYIspUzFtHRLAXg7udJrdwmKO_1j_gjeU_JKZqnNh0uaHCmG1k0QW306mKVW5UVLbQpwLiBgEQS4F1sdeeY/s320/20150510_152219+(2).jpg" /></a></div>
The Best Seat in the House--Nicely Shared Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-2047973449995027062015-04-24T12:45:00.000-07:002015-05-13T20:49:37.983-07:00Picture of the week<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj77Ki1oTKaKCrHjK5FeHOmR7eqHwQvq-eSyfY1NOxpUzrbFshqGYdruLmuyqta2lTW9XgxH3dchfDZLrlZsAhxfSmF8zsppM_XPM0vMr1qsd-opTNrvfVVllcFTYajrZF4rB-AKVlSEGA/s1600/Q+&+B.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj77Ki1oTKaKCrHjK5FeHOmR7eqHwQvq-eSyfY1NOxpUzrbFshqGYdruLmuyqta2lTW9XgxH3dchfDZLrlZsAhxfSmF8zsppM_XPM0vMr1qsd-opTNrvfVVllcFTYajrZF4rB-AKVlSEGA/s320/Q+&+B.jpg" /></a>
Love that Quinn is going outside after school and he has his dogs with him while exploring our yard. He growing so fast....Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-65719783035877554092015-04-24T08:51:00.004-07:002015-04-24T08:51:44.363-07:00A year goes byIt's been a year today that I found out my Dad was nearing the end of his journey here on earth. Our house in Littleton just went up for sale and it was a super exciting time for the Henry family. Then I get the phone call. My Dad is in the hospital and the doctor says that he has only days left. I'm so grateful that he was lucid the first day in hospice. Family and friends showed up in droves to wish my Dad well and to show him love and support. It was heart wrenching to see my Dad. But here's the deal--no one gets out of life alive. I'm a realist. And the best a person can do is show love and support to those you love. Show them you care. That's all you can do. I spent the week with my Dad in hospice, along with so many friends and family. He was never alone. He left this world in pure love. It was a tough week. Quinn was with me through it all, which in hindsight was something I wished would have been different. But with no support he had to be with me. Mike's work days are far too long for him to support school drop/pick up so he had to come. But his sensitive little soul was so affected. He still talks about it. I'm sad that he'll never know his Grandpa. But it is what it is. Not a day goes by that I don't think of my Dad and I sure wish we still had our phone calls on Sundays. My Dad was never judgmental to me and I could always count on him to have pride in me. Now he certainly had his opinions, but he loved me even though he may not have agreed with a path or a decision. So here's to my Dad. Missing him every day.... Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-25245341207757376142015-04-14T13:58:00.000-07:002015-04-14T13:58:36.669-07:00Oh what the future will hold!Mike and I have decided to embrace NGA's requirement to move and are planning on moving to St Louis in 2016--if they approve my extension request. It not, we'll be moving in the fall of 2015. I do hope for a summer move, so that Quinn can finish his third and most important year of Montessori and we can be ready for the move (and will have been in our new Parker home for 2 years). I'm excited. I've been needing something new and different for awhile. I'm tired of going to the ADF every day. I've been doing it for 11 years. I'm ready for Quinn to bond with family--Mike's mom, Aunt and Uncle, and cousins are in Kansas City, MO, which is less than 4 hours away. Quinn has little concept of family and I am so looking forward to him being able to play with cousins! and have a loving relationship with his Aunt and Uncle. And go to Grandma's house! This move is very exciting for our little family. Mike will transition to being a SAHD and he is sure looking forward to that--so am I. To have peace of mind that Quinn is going to be taken to school and picked up every day, rather than put on a bus is great. And we are looking at land--5 acres of rural so that we can have our RV with us, not in storage, and have chickens, goats, and anything else we want. So this will be our last year in the West. I love Colorado but I have thoroughly enjoyed all the adventures of living in other parts of the world, and now I have a family to share adventures with--so bring it on!Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-46781246828581916562015-01-05T13:46:00.001-08:002015-01-05T13:46:09.714-08:00Split Second DecisionsMy darling Quinn has slept with me for the last two years. yep, and I have loved every minute of it. There are two camps of parents with regard to sleeping children--let-them-sleep-where-they-want vs. they-will-sleep-in-their-beds camps. When Quinn was born, we were the TWSITB parents. Quinn went to the crib the first night and for the next three years, including all the night nursings, I would be there for him before he took an in-between breath in the midst of a cry. Mike hated how I slept so light, one ear always open and body ready to respond. Quinn developed excellent sleep habits. He slept through the night at 8 weeks and we never struggled getting him to sleep. He napped perfectly. He was well known to be a sleeper. One night, in the summer of 2013, there was a moth. In Quinn's eyes, the moth had a wingspan that was greater than a raptor and fangs that rival a cobra's venomous fangs. That darned moth was flitting around Quinn's lamp. He never slept in his bed again. I became a LTSWTW parent. For every night of the next two-ish years--in hotel rooms, at family's houses, in the RV, at home--Quinn was right by my side. And I loved it. I felt his breathing through two croup outbreaks and several colds. I had the bucket ready for two vomit parties. I was present during night terrors. I assisted with the middle of the night bathroom runs. I. was. present.
Well, last night was a night like all others. We all head upstairs around 8 to potty, brush teeth, read a book and lights out, hopefully by 8:30. All went according to plan; we read a book called "There's no Such Thing as Monsters" about Little Bear sleeping away from Big Bear, in his own bed. And all the monsters that he thought he saw in his room, all alone, were debunked. And Big Bear was so proud. And sad. Because he was alone. Anyway, we finish reading our book and Quinn--who appeared in that moment to be 18 years old--got up and said "I'm sleeping in my bed tonight". whoa! wait! Can we talk about this? I don't want to say any of this, but my heart just about split in half. And that boy walked us into his bedroom, where he clearly defined how the room was to remain as he said good night (light on, blind up, door open, all lovies in the bed (he's never slept with a lovie...)), gave hugs and kisses, and said good night. He was up 3 minutes later to use the master bathroom (did I see a crack in his decision right there? please...), and 5 minutes later he called me up (YES! second thoughts!) to get a quick lesson on moths in the winter time. I assured him that there are no moths in the winter, that they all freeze, and yes, if we stayed outside we would freeze too. And yes--moths are warm blooded. oh, and no wasps either. Feeling safe, he trounced off to bed.
This morning, he woke on his own (having aged to 30-something over night) knowing that school was back on today, came downstairs and retrieved his "coffee-juice" and crawled into our bed to watch morning cartoons. His first words to me: "Mama, are you proud of me?"
Am I proud?? Heart-broken, lonely, but incredibly proud--yes. As is typical for my amazing child (yes, it's highly likely I'm the only one who thinks he's amazing, and that's ok by me), he makes a decision, probably after internally weighing the pros and cons, mentally practicing what moves were necessary--and did it. Proud doesn't begin to describe.Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-11294300434004865292014-12-29T09:17:00.003-08:002014-12-29T09:21:59.122-08:00Ready or not, 2015 is almost herewhew.... where did 2014 go? On one hand, 2014 was a whirlwind; on the other, it took forever to get through 2014. The year was a big year--so many things happened. As we are nearing New Year's Eve, my mind wanders to a year ago. My dad was a few months into his battle to recover from surgery that was unsuccessful at removing the cancer from his kidney. Although the kidney was removed, the cancer had already spread. He was optimistic, as we all were, that the drug protocol was going to be effective. It would grant him more time on this earth. This time last year, I was trying to spend as much time with him as possible. I too was optimistic. But he never really got his strength back and ultimately lost his fight with renal cancer on May 4th, 2014. I will never forget that morning of his death. I kissed him on the forehead as he was dying in hospice and told him that Quinn and I were there and that it's ok to go--we will all be ok. He nodded ever so slightly. He heard me. I'll hang onto that moment for the rest of my life. Quinn still talks about "sick Grandpa", for the images of his Grandfather in hospice are forever imprinted in his mind. I'm sad that that's all he remembers of his Grandpa. He remembers the "sick Grandpa". I miss my Dad every day and, even though we were never together for Christmas, I particularly missed him. I kept thinking I had to call him, only to realize that there was to be no call.
With sadness of losing Dad comes the excitement of moving into our new home--all of it happened at the same time. Our house in Littleton went on the market while Dad was entering hospice care. Fortunately, it sold in about 40 hours and the offer that came in was higher than asking price. Twenty days later, we turned the keys of our home for 9 years over to a young couple. Ten days after that, we closed on our home in Parker. I thought I would be sad to leave our home that we brought our son home in, that saw so much of our family through the years, but I really didn't look back. I was ready to move and very excited to move to Parker. And the move was everything I expected--life changing to be sure. My commute went from 1 3/4 hours to less than an hour, including dropping Quinn off at school. We found an amazing Montessori for Quinn. He is very happy there and feels safe and loved. He's working well above kindergarten level in math and science and is on par for pre-K in language and reading. And he's becoming ever more confident and secure in his school work. His teachers are amazing. Our Hillpark home is almost perfect. We love the neighborhood and love all the wildlife around us. Not a day goes by that we don't see the deer and we have a neighborhood fox that comes around a few times a week. I love Parker--I didn't think I would. But it has a small town charm to it that I don't feel anywhere else. The people are friendly and welcoming and it's very family oriented. I could not ask for a better place to live and raise our child.
This year we also upgraded our RV--we traded our first RV in on a much bigger and luxurious model and really enjoyed it this year. We also joined a camping club that got us out camping and trying new places. I can see many years of camping in this RV as it's perfectly sized for us now and into the future.
In August, we had our first family vacation since Quinn was born. We flew to San Diego and spent a week in La Jolla and surrounding areas. Quinn and Mike both loved the beaches and could easily live in an area with beaches; Mike continues to convince me to find a job in California. Quinn did great on his first plane ride, although felt his motion sickness on the trip home. Quinn still talks about his week in San Diego. He loved everything about the trip!
As the summer came to a close and winter was knocking on the door, a nosebleed from Abby sent us flying to the emergency vet, only to find out nothing about the nosebleed but to get the news that Abby was in congestive heart failure. She is now on a cocktail of meds that are keeping her in surprisingly great shape.
As 2014 closes, we are looking forward to 2015. Right now life is good, but we all know that life will turn on you in a blink of an eye. So embrace today, look forward to tomorrow, don't have regrets for yesterday. Happy New Year!Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-50212758466474043542014-07-31T13:55:00.002-07:002014-07-31T13:55:51.680-07:00Characteristics of Highly Sensitive Children--an interesting listingCharacteristics of “Highly Sensitive Children”
The sensitivities of psychic children, autistics, Aspergers, children w/ ADD,
indigo children, star children, crystals, and
other labels used to understand highly sensitive children.
Source: http://www.psychiciq.com/highly_sensitive_kids.html
Highly sensitive children may not have all these characteristics. And they may have the characteristics to differing degrees. Whether they are labeled ADD, autistic, or psychic, all require special parenting and supervision to enable them to function and succeed as adults. They may (or may not) come into this world with advanced knowledge and abilities. But, like any child, their childhood environment and experiences shape how these advanced gifts will develop and be used as adults.
1. Sensitive to noise, the taste of foods, smells/odors, certain colors or color combinations, or touch.
2. Doesn’t like to be in crowds. Needs downtime to process the times they are in large groups. They may leave a room full of family members and withdraw to their room to be alone for a while.
3. Quiet, shy, introverted, withdrawn.
4. Self-absorbed and self-focused. Can lead to narcissism in adulthood.
5. Slow to connect with others. Participates in group activities only after getting to know the other children, the environment, and the dynamics.
6. Prefers to be alone or with 1 or 2 other introverted children.
7. Above average ability in one or more areas even if not evident in schoolwork. May be exceptionally intelligent.
8. May have learning disabilities.
9. May need more structure and instructions than is typically required for children to learn.
10. Can’t spell.
11. May experience audio-motor incoordination.
12. Sees slowly—takes eyes longer to adjust to images
13. Either excels at math or has math dyscalculia.
14. Precocious—uses words and phrasing and complete sentences beyond age level; assumes an authority of an adult; asks thought provoking questions; introspective.
15. May be perceived as a slow learner only because the child needs to understand the breath and depth of something first.
16. Detailed oriented.
17. Thinks outside the box putting together seemingly mutually exclusive “boxes” of knowledge (aka creative & innovative).
18. Good memory, may have photographic memory. Walking dictionary.
19. Doesn’t like change.
20. Skin sensitivity—clothes may itch, labels in clothes are uncomfortable, seams in socks are irritating, doesn’t like the beach because of the grittiness of sand.
21. Reacts quickly to environmental toxins, including cleaning products as well as toxins in the air. May have multiple chemical sensitivities.
22. Doesn’t like to be around electrical equipment. Light bulbs go off around them.
23. Has more than normal static electricity in their bodies. Often “shocks” when touches objects and people.
24. Feels the emotions of others as if these emotions were their own; feels responsible for others’ emotions. So child may seem to overreact. Has a greater need to resolve emotional conflicts because of this sensitivity towards others’ emotions.
25. Cries easily.
26. Doesn’t like conflict. Has a strong sense of justice and unfairness. Wants to “right” wrongs.
27. May have sense of global injustice but not have empathy for an individual.
28. Doesn’t like to be over stimulated. Can be easily overwhelmed.
29. Doesn’t learn “social rules” as fast as other children. Often so direct that they can be viewed as lacking in tact.
30. Loses sense of time.
31. Attractive, beautiful, good-looking.
32. Low body temperature.
33. Girls may have smaller head; boys may have larger head.
34. Allergies and upper respiratory problems.
35. Weakened immune system; prone to infections.
36. Bedwetting beyond typical age.
37. Sense of entitlement and other difficult behaviors.
38. Seems to read your mind. Knows what you want before you ask.
39. Aware of what’s happening to other family members.
40. Has an “imaginary” friend or animal.
41. Stares at what seems empty space and points, smiles, or talks with that empty space. Particularly noticeable with babies.
42. Feelings of being watched that is not about a mental disorder.
43. Knows personalities of deceased family members they have never known. Recognizes deceased family members in photographs.
44. Refuses to go near a particular person or room or building.
45. Active dream life with vivid colors; flying dreams; falls out of bed a lot; premonition dreams.
46. Talks with things in Nature.
47. Objects move around them.
48. Seems to know when someone is ill, and the child may spontaneously touch the person.
49. Sees auras; may tell you that a person is a particular color. May tell you when a person is ill or about to die after seeing that person.
50. Talks about a past life.Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-68039466560193887272014-06-23T12:00:00.000-07:002014-06-23T12:01:41.524-07:00Top Ten Reasons Why Being an Older Mom is Amazing!I've recently become Facebook friends with a bunch of ladies in a closed group called Older Moms of Young Children. It has been nice connecting with moms who can relate. I celebrate even more being a mom who had her first child at 42 years young. While Mike and I would gladly have a houseful of children, it's simply not meant to be and we are blessed with only one. So with that, here's my top ten reasons why it's awesome being an older mom!
1. I don't sweat the small stuff, particularly with food and mealtimes. I don't care what he eats, just that he eats. Yep, he can have whatever he wants for breakfast. who cares?
2. I love dirt. We do not use antibiotic soaps and we do not own antibacterial hand gels. Dirt is good. My kid's never been on any antibiotics in his nearly 5 years of life--he's a pretty healthy kid for having dirty hands.
3. Judge me--I don't care. I get plenty of judging...
4. I can celebrate. His birthday, Christmas, St. Patrick's Day, Easter, other holidays. I waited a long time for this guy, and intend to have some fun. But if he doesn't care, neither do it. He doesn't like candy, so he doesn't care about Halloween. Neither do I. (and I'm very happy he doesn't like candy!)
5. I appreciate. I cannot describe how grateful I am for him. Simply beyond words.
6. I will defend and protect until my last breath. No question--I will be that ridiculous parent who will do something about an injustice, a bully, a bad teacher, and--God Forbid--anyone who decides to hurt my child. And I will not care who thinks what, and I'm sure I can convince any jury....
7. I can spoil! And I will! And I do....
8. I have traveled, partied, experienced life; now I can settle down and put my child first. I don't need to drink to get drunk, I don't need to go out on the town, I don't need to hang with my friends, I don't need vacations alone (or with the girls or with my hubby). My son is number 1--and I will sacrifice what I need to make him stay number 1. And it's not a sacrifice, because I'm not giving anything up.
9. I have a career. I don't need to figure out how to get my degree because I have a couple, I don't need to figure out how to get that next promotion, or even a job. And I can do all of this on my own. I love my husband, but I don't need his income to make ends meet.
10. I can afford it. The best schooling. Quality shoes, nice clothes, and the latest trends. One can argue the material things, but I can help him fit in and give the other kids one less reason to pick on him by ensuring he looks nice and "trendy".
Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-10959542984313538352014-05-11T20:22:00.000-07:002014-05-11T20:22:42.942-07:00Mother's DayMaybe I'm too realistic, but Mother's Day is just another day. It's another day that I hear "Mom" or "Mommy" about 500 times a day. "Mom, wipe my butt" or "Mom, give me juice". I don't get to rest. No one brings me flowers, or breakfast in bed. No one makes dinner. I get no gifts to unwrap. and it's perfect. Just like every other day of my life, as I have been blessed with a title that I never thought I'd be blessed with--Mother. That is gift enough. That makes my every single day simply amazing. Today was no different. At Church today, they had two Brothers talking about their mothers--you could feel their deep love and admiration for their moms. One Brother was giving his farewell talk before leaving on his mission; the other was elderly and still got choked up as he described the love he felt for his mother. It was incredibly touching. Just having the title is gift enough.
So here's a shout out to Moms--whether working mom or stay-at-home, single, gay, married, shacking up; and no matter how the title was earned, what crazy journey the woman endured to get there. Moms are selfless, exhausted, hard-working, amazing people. Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-6114672148108530782014-04-29T19:30:00.002-07:002014-04-29T19:30:23.715-07:00the Inhumanity of it allI'm in the midst of an experience I've never had before--being present while a person is at the end of his life, having lost a battle with cancer. That person is my Dad. He entered hospice 4 days ago. Today's question that I can't get out of my head is "why?" Why do we feel as if it's humane to help our pets over the Rainbow Bridge when they are terminal but we compel our humans to suffer through the process of dying? My heart is broken. Every time I look at the shell of a man that, only 6 months before, was a strong guy who knew everything and who could do anything. Today I fed him. And helped him drink water from a straw. He is helpless and crazy with pain and pain medication. He said his ABC's to me. Why is all of this ok? How can I not be very angry right now? Yesterday I typed up my Dad's obituary. WTF...
So to battle with this incredible anger that I can't seem to quell today, I instead will take a little time to celebrate the man that is my Father--here, on my little blog. As a child, I thought he knew everything; heck, as an adult I was still thinking he knew everything. He knew a ton about so many things and he was my go-to guy for all of it. RVs, electricity, travel, cars, you name it. He had an incredible story as a kid growing up in the mid-west in the 40's-50's. He was the one that prompted me to learn more about the Monroe family. Because of him I have been successful in tracing the entire Monroe family tree. And in that research, I found his brothers--long lost for over 50 years. How awesome is that!
My Dad and I haven't always seen eye to eye, but I'm convinced it wasn't in his heart, it was a bunch of other circumstances that stood in the way of me always being Daddy's girl. What I am thrilled about is that, as an adult, I had an opportunity to settle into a decent relationship with him.
I can thank him for so many things but I do attribute my fierce independence and ability to survive and never give up, to him. I believe it was our shared past that led me to be such a survivor. It was my shear stubbornness, surely a Monroe trait, that made me prove the world wrong--time and again. "You'll never make it through basic training", "You'll never graduate from College", "You'll never make much of yourself". hell yes, I most certainly will. Thank you Dad.
I'm sad for my son. I lost my Grandpa when I was 4 years old. Quinn will lose his Grandpa at 4 years old. Quinn is at such a disadvantage with little extended family involvement in his life that he's losing a critical piece of his little family pie. That makes my heart hurt.
As I sit in his house, the house that he shared with his wife who has been the most incredible person in his life, I am heartbroken. But I can't begin to imagine how she feels, losing her soul mate. I can't imagine what goes through his mind as he is dying.
Tonight I fight anger. I hope tomorrow I move past it.
Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-78194896034112243272014-01-24T08:03:00.000-08:002014-01-24T08:03:09.681-08:00Highly Sensitive SoulQuinn has always amazed me. Of course I'm overwhelmed with the miracle we've been given. Naturally I'm absolutely smitten with my child. But there's more. I enjoy watching him grow--watching the complex science behind the act of learning. From his first days, learning to suckle, then learning how to grasp, coo, crawl, walk. All those milestones that children move through. It was clear that he was a perfectionist, even as a baby. When he hit a milestone, he hit it with absolute perfection. When he crawled--he just crawled. When he walked, he just walked. In his mind, he practiced it a hundred times. When he acted out the maneuver, it was if he had been doing it for a long time. He went from flat on the floor to crawling everywhere in minutes. His first step was steps, and he never turned back. I was a bit sad to see that perfectionaism--what a curse it could be. And seeing his personality emerge was amazing. As a baby, he showed empathy very young. Watching his crazy cool sense of humor emerge. Seeing that light bulb come on upon the discovery that his actions can make others smile and laugh. Watching his groove come through. The kid's got rhythm. He can feel the music in his soul. It's simply amazing watching all of this emerge over the past 4 1/2 years. I've been troubled by his responses to loud noise, to startles, to his slow adaption to new things. I worried about his verbal skills. I worried about autism. I'm sure all parents do this. I know the odds are against us to have an absolutely healthy child. We are older parents. I read about it. I am a researcher. I love to read about things. I love to find the reason behind things. I happened upon a concept, a label, called Highly Sensitive Children. It's not a condition, nor a disorder. It's simply a personality. One that requires special handling. One that requires people in the child's life to be dedicated to that child's needs. From what I've read 15-20% of children are considered HSC. There's a list of traits. Quinn pegs many of the traits. He hates loud noises, crowds, chaos, startles. He must have his shoes on very tight, and his watch. His clothes, particularly his shirts, must fit perfectly. He notices every little change. I move an item on the shelf--he notices. A dog farts across the room, Quinn smells it. He has to smell me to center himself. I know this sounds weird, but he's done it for as long as I can remember. He must have my hair in his hands when we are sitting together. He is very keen to sense how people respond to him. He is incredibly empathetic with his friends. He calculates the risk associated with every move. When his feelings are hurt, they are really hurt. The pain is very real to him. He is shy. He is particular with tastes. Unfortunately, I've created a child whose palette prefers real food rather than processed food. He dislikes candy. Some would call him picky, difficult to please, wimpy, a cry baby. Some don't have a lot of patience for him. I see all of this as an incredible gift. He is incredibly creative, and imaginative. He's emotional and feels the emotions around him. I've never had to child proof a thing. He's had the aversion to danger forever. He'll never be that kid who jumps off a cliff because his friends are. His sense of danger will force him to turn away. When I was pregnant with Quinn, I imagined a little boy on the ice, playing hockey at the age of 3. Quinn will never play hockey. He'll probably never play soccer. He will change the world though-even if it his little world. He will make a significant impact to all that take the time to get to know him. He is a pretty cool little guy. I am dedicated to ensuring he always has the best, while nurturing the unique soul that he is. I will go to the end of the earth, and sacrifice much, to ensure he is able to be the soul he was intended to be. That's my job and my life's priority. I'm so thankful to have that as my job.
Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-54987643549350022582014-01-03T07:45:00.001-08:002014-01-03T07:45:11.948-08:00Love....I love mornings. I don't like those initial moments when I have to get out of bed, but once I'm up I love the quiet pre-dawn moments in my day. I love sunrises too. It reflects great promise for the day. I love the smell of dog feet. And the sound of dog feet on the floor. I love good coffee. It's worth pressing every day--no question. I love preparing a good meal, and love people eating it--and showing a little appreciation for it. I love the outdoors. I love waking up in a tent, and fishing at sunrise and sunset, and anytime through the day really. I love walking through the woods, exploring under rocks, in trees, in logs. I love Eastern US woods. Mountain woods are not so exciting. But I do love the mountains. I love being an advocate for things I hold special--children, animals, human rights, equality. I love feeling passionate about these things. I love not caring what other people think about how I'm passionate about these things. I love reveille and retreat. I love serving my country. I love my country. I love military ceremony--respect for the colors, the songs, the sharpness of everything. I love my memories; even if they are unpleasant, they are mine. The good ones make me happy, the bad ones remind me of how I've become the woman I am today. I love me. I love who I am, the journey I have made, how I look, how I think. I'm not perfect and likely won't turn any heads as I walk by--but I don't care. I love fast cars. I love driving to work in the pre-dawn morning because I can really let my turbo work. I love the thrill. I love doing things "just because". I'll try anything once, if given the opportunity. I love knowing my way around a tool box. I've built a 6 foot fence, installed a sprinkler system, made all sorts of home repairs. I love the feeling of independence. I wish I knew my way around cars like I do tools of the home repair trade. I love organization and being organized. My world is right when things are in their place and my environment is clean. I've struggled as a married woman with letting this go. I haven't succeeded yet. I love my kid. I've done a lot of cool things in my 46 years. Nothing has been cooler than becoming a mom. I'm "that" person who is over-the-moon-goo-goo for her kid. And I don't apologize for it. For some, getting the mom title is easy. It wasn't for me. I love being a mom. I love being around other good moms. I don't love being around mediocre moms. It makes me too sad. Fortunately I know only a few mediocre moms. I love getting the point in an exercise routine that you feel the high. I don't get to this much since I barely have time to sleep right now. I love a good book. It's been a long time, but I'll get back to a good book. I love my husband. He is my baby's daddy and is a fantastic father. No matter how I behave, he still loves me unconditionally. He is a good man.
I love a lot of things in this world; I take none of it for granted. Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-67815511577374940532013-12-31T09:56:00.000-08:002013-12-31T09:56:21.626-08:00There Goes 2013, Here Comes 2014So here we are, New Year's Eve Day. The year has passed, another is on the horizon. As I reflect on the year, I think about how fast it went by! That's how time is, I suppose. The key is to not let it pass without living it. We've had a busy 2013. We did some camping, but not in any new places. I hope 2014 brings us more adventure--and by golly it's going to happen! Quinn fished for "real" (no hook) this year, and seemed to enjoy it. He is such a great adventurer. This year was the first year that Quinn hiked and I wasn't freaking out about his safety. Now, I want him to scratch a knee. It's time. Speaking of The Adorable One--he had his world rocked this year by starting preschool. He left the Child Development Center (CDC)for a real school. He hated the first couple of weeks, then realized that it wasn't chaos like the CDC had become, that he was important and teachers did care about him. He quickly decided he loved it. And I love that we got into our school of choice--I'm grateful that I have choices in the school my son goes to, and I'm super grateful that Jefferson County Schools have Charter Schools that are fantastic alternatives to the traditional school setting. I have admired the Waldorf and Montessori methods for more than 20 years--ever since college. I always said my kid is going to take advantage of a non-traditional school. And we are. Yes, I'm one of those crazy ridiculous parents (at least some people think so--and frankly I don't care) that want absolutely the very best for my kid and question everything. I will go out of my way and be nearly radical with my child's upbringing. Because I can. He's my kid. I have the means and methods to do so. Sorry for that tangent.... Anywho, 2013... I lost 25 pounds in 2013! That's pretty awesome. I will do another 25 in 2014. I like to take things slow. I like good food--a lot. It shows. :( But I do love myself just how I am and just want more clothing choices really. We decided to invest in the house even more than previous years and finally took the plunge and got windows for the whole house. We had a significant decision to make--sell the house, or keep it. We decided to keep it but could not stomach another year in a drafty house. So the decision was easy. We got windows, a garage door, and a new storm door and now we are warm!!! I can't wait to sell the house now...in a couple of years. We added a third to our Henry Pack this year. Bogart came to us in September and that little guy of only 18 months of age must have had a rough life before he was picked up as a stray. He was so skinny and sat for so long in the shelter. We had looked for a third for months and met many over that time, visiting a few different shelters in search of the one for us. Bogart, then Jimmy, entered the room and immediately, we knew we had to take him home. That's how love is--you know it when you feel it. And we were in love with this little guy. And, as we turn over the year, he has gained a pound or two and has blossomed. He is now "the Little-ist of the Littles" and I am absolutely smitten. I love how he runs and hides when it comes time to walk every evening. Yep, the little guy doesn't care to strut his stuff at night in the cold. I look forward to his continuing to grow and lose all of his fears that he must have had good reason to develop. Our other pack members, Duey and Abby, are doing ok! Duey is a little devil and poor Abby has been fighting a disease all year--Immune Mediated Polyarthritic Disease. She is on a host of drugs and cannot walk more than 10 minutes at a time, and not every day. So my girl who would walk miles with me is sadly sidelined--for likely the rest of her life. She taking it all in stride and her new sport is to see how much food she can steal in the house every day. She's doing very well in her new endeavors. Lexie the cat just shakes her head at all this dog stuff. In her life, she has trained 7 dogs. She's a trooper. We got bad news with Dad's diagnosis of renal cancer this year. And that news just kept getting worse and worse. As we close out 2013, all I have left is hope. And tears. And hope. Over the year we have been blessed--blessed with new friends, old friendships rekindled, current friendships nurtured. We have an amazing group of Quinn followers and are so grateful for all the fantastic caregivers who are committed to kids every day. Many of them continue to be in Quinn's life, if only just virtually. We have been likewise blessed with family--family get togethers that have brought us together after only a year apart and others more than 20 years apart. I am looking forward to 2014 for so many reasons! Hope is in my pocket every single day. And gratitude in the other. I never leave home with neither. But there's also new opportunities at work, a summer full of new adventures for Quinn's first summer break from school, a year with camping fun, a year with family and friends. Bring on the New Year!Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7133522661813246834.post-17865047862577955262013-12-30T07:46:00.002-08:002013-12-30T07:46:33.969-08:00CancerCancer. What a crappy word. I'm a realist. I know cancer happens. I know cancer sucks. I know a lot of people aflicted with the big C. I know a lot of people who have survived cancer. I am in awe of all of them. It's like a battle--a true battle. They are battle worn, they have the scars--both physically and emotionally--to prove it. There's skin cancer, and breast cancer. I've had both in my family. Both seemed so easy to fix--so curable. A little of this, a lot of that and BOOM--all better. But now it's all different. Now it gets real. My Dad, MY DAD, has renal cancer--stage 4. Yes, it's serious. There's an 8% chance of a five-year survival. My dad has survived so much. He's an amazing guy really--crazy weird upbringing with a fair amount of struggle, military service, a career telephone company guy. He had to eat 10 pounds of bananas just to get accepted into basic training! We've struggled in my 46 years. I remember a Dad as I was growing up that was irritable, impatient, and generally annoyed by me. That's how I felt anyway. They divorced when I was 12--he began a new life and my life got extra shitty. Or maybe that's when my awareness of my lot got the best of me. Who knows. My teen years absolutely sucked. My Dad had a new family, my life was a mess of broken-heartedness, rage, craziness. And I'm not talking just about me. My Dad and I didn't have much of a relationship. A lot of shit happened that really sucks. Finally I escaped to college. Life was still tough, but damn it--I'm going to survive and change my family tree. I joined the military. I'm still sad that no one from my family came to my basic training graduation. It's one of those significant events in your life that no one cares about. It's like a tree falling in the forest when no one's around. I graduated college. My Dad and others came to my graduation party. My Mom and Dad were in the same house for the first time in years--and it wasn't pretty. It was ridiculous. Divorce sucks for the kids, by the way. It tears relationships apart. I could have been Daddy's girl. I may have been, but I don't know it. I married. I remember at my first wedding, dancing with my Dad--he cried and I cried. I knew then that he did love me--and loved me with his entire being. Then I moved to Germany. I didn't have really strong ties to Dad (or anyone else at this point... I was outta here). I moved back. I divorced. My Dad and I started rekindling a relationship--one that continues to build still today. On a work-related trip to Arizona, I met my Dad there, who was also working in Arizona. We drank together. We turned a corner in our adult daughter-Dad relationship that day. He came for visits to my home in Maryland. He traveled far to see me. He and my step-mom came to help me when I had surgery. I had a hard time accepting help, but it was nice for someone to go outta their way to actually do so. We traveled together to see his Mom, my Grandma, in Missouri. I moved to Colorado. He traveled to support another surgery. He was there for my second wedding--traveling far again to support a significant moment in my life. He was my Dad--he is my Dad. My maturity now tells me that perhaps he was always there, but there were lots of factors that got in the way of forging a healthy Father-Daughter relationship with my Dad. I took him for granted; he took me for granted. Here's where it gets real folks. My Dad is fighting the fight of his LIFE. It's breaking my heart, seeing him do this. It's not the physical pain and discomfort--there's lots to do about that. It's the emotional grief, it's the realization that he knows he's sick. And really sick. He has an amazing woman at his side--she's been there for over three decades. She is strong. She is amazing. He is very lucky. Listen, I know no one leaves this life alive. I get that. But I didn't expect this guy, who just this summer was camping and moving non-stop, to barely move from one point to another in his home without support. I need a miracle here--I need more time with this guy.Paula Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02029512494375623975noreply@blogger.com1