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Thoughts on a Thursday

About a week after claiming that I would get back to blogging regularly I was hit with three exams back to back. I started working on new blog pages, and started brainstorming some ideas that I wanted to post about. I worked on finally uploading all of those damn pictures that are just sitting on our camera. I was feeling inspired; creative. Then the following week my brother-in law decided to come for a visit so we spent a lot of time out and about. As welcomed as the visit was, I wasn't in the right place. Recently, I've been dealing with anxiety; a story for another time. I tried to make the best of it, but I know I wasn't much fun during that week at all. And then one morning during that same week while getting everyone ready for the day, and trying to find my damn keys I received a call from my mother. "Do you remember that surgery your aunt had a few weeks ago?" Yes. "Well...it's...it's cancer." 

We've had a lot of questions answered and some not so much. We know what it is, it's aggressiveness, and the statistics. It's been hard for some of us to really understand what comes next. Everything is up in the air, and yet at the same time it's...still. It's harder for my mom because she feels a bit helpless knowing she can't actually be there in Georgia with my aunt through this. As the time ticks away, and the day's go by turning into weeks this gets worse. So far, there is nothing to be done until she's healed from the first surgery. And now there are second opinions to be had, hospitals to visit, decisions to consider. My mother is thinking of taking a leave of absence from work over the summer to go out there. For now there has been a lot of praying, church, and prayer groups both here and there. My aunt is positive, and more at peace with this news than I would imagine anyone to be. She keeps in contact with us, and lets us know everything that is happening as well as future plans. We receive scriptures, and bible verses. My mother is trying her best to stay positive and to be at peace with whatever may come, but over this weekend she let that slip for a few minutes. And as we sat in the middle of an empty laundry mat at 7 am she cried while I hugged her. I have only ever imagined the pain that would come if I were to ever lose my brother. I don't think I'd be able to breathe. But my mom, who is just as close to her siblings as I am my brother, is actually having to feel this. She really has to consider that she could possibly lose a sister. And that, to me, is heartbreaking. 

Even though my aunt and I don't get to see each other very often, she's still an important person to me. I love her, and she's a really wonderful person. She's bubbly, bright, and has this strong love for God that I only wish to one day achieve. I can talk to her about anything and there's no judgement. Growing up I was always told that my personality held parts of her, and parts of one other aunt. It's like I was split equally they always said. I always took that as a compliment because the women in my family are pretty extraordinary in their own right. So, for something like this to happen to her it just feels unreal. I feel like I haven't yet accepted it, and even now as I write about it this just seems like a really bad dream. I keep telling my mom that this worry is all for nothing. She's going to kick cancer's ass, and it'll just be another thing that makes her such a badass. Still, as with anything, there's always that negative. There's always the tiny little thought at the back of your mind telling you that this could end badly. That this could be one of those cases where bad shit happens to good people and there isn't a damn thing we can do about it. I'm trying to fix that though. I'm trying to stay positive. I'm trying my best to be there for my mom. And for now, all we can do is wait. And hope. So, if things don't pick up around here like I had hoped/wanted it to just know it's for a reason.

What The Terrible {Insert Any Age Here} Have Taught Me

I remember right after I had my daughter how often people would tell me about all of the misery that comes with having a newborn. The usual: lack of sleep, lots of crying, and how you feel so helpless when something is wrong but they can't tell you what it is yet so there's no fixing it right away. Then it quickly moved on to "Oh, you just wait until the terrible twos! You'll have your hands full for sure." That was followed by the terrifying threes, and horrible fours. It seemed like no matter what I was bound to go through a super scary phase in my kid's life. And yet, I never saw it. No, wait. Scratch that. I did see a tiny glimpse of it here and there, but I remember getting out of those stages thinking "That was it? Really?" I was always grateful and pretty excited to have "made it" through those years without too many incidents. Everywhere we went there would be compliments over how well behaved our daughter was, and how polite she was towards others. I figured we were doing something right, at the very least. But you guys, NONE of those stages above compare to the fives. The fives have caused me to swear off having any more kids (kind of...maybe...more than likely). The fives have caused me to lock myself in the bathroom in order to have a good cry because I just snapped at her for yelling at me and now she's crying and telling me that I don't love her, and...and...and....really? 

It's been pretty rough. She just turned five too. There's been nonstop crying, tantrums, and back talking. Her selective hearing has increased to "not listening unless it involves buying me things". Sure she's still sweet, kind, polite, and for all intents and purposes acts the way we'd like her to in public. However, the real war is at home. The real battles go down when asked to wear jeans instead of leggings. Or when asked that she pick up her toys, or turn off her tablet. You can almost hear the battle cry rumbling when she's told to find her shoes, or when told that she will be staying at the babysitters. That last one is a recent development. It seems like she fights me on EVERYTHING. There have been times I've thought about giving her some benadryl in hopes that it would knock her out long enough for me to catch a break. I repeat, I THOUGHT, not actually done. Don't act like it hasn't crossed your mind once or twice either. The only reprieve I seem to get is when she sleeps or when we're in the car (because she knows we're going somewhere). And lately, it's been very...very trying.

Here's what I'm finally learning though: these little people that we are raising have their own personalities. They have their own minds, and some days are going to be hard because they want to push every damn button in you that they can find. It's just like meeting someone new in your everyday life. There are some people that will encourage you, irritate you, challenge you, or even just flat out hate you. There will be some that you feel are soulmates, and others that you can handle only in small doses. You won't always agree, and you'll probably question them or their decisions more than once. All of this happens because in the end they are not you. This applies to our children as well. They are growing, and no matter how many times someone says "Oh, he/she's exactly like you!" they never really are. It would be super creepy and weird if they were. The reality of that hit home so hard this past weekend, and I know now that as my little girl is becoming more aware of herself and others around her she's going to be testing our boundaries a lot more frequently. And that's just life. We just have to make sure that as she's testing out our limits we not let her walk all over us because that can't lead to anything good, and I refuse to raise a spoiled brat.

So, my husband and I have realized that some changes will have to be made on our part because our form of discipline will be a constantly evolving thing. Some forms that worked when she was two will not now that she's five. It's not just the terrible two's or frightening fives, this is going to be a constant process. As she discovers who she is, and who we are as her parents there will always be this push and pull effect between us. Some years will be harder than others, and I'm sure I'll question everything that I do. My mother told me that she still questions her actions and advice that she gives to us, and my brother and I are both in our 20's. So this is definitely a learn-as-you-go process, and it's finally hitting me that this is going to be as tough as it is rewarding. Raising a human being isn't easy and I don't think it was meant to be. It's meant to make you a better person as well as to challenge you for the rest of your life. There is no greater joy than knowing you raised a wonderful human being, and it wouldn't be the same if it didn't change you or require you to work for it. So here's to the "terrible whatever age comes next" because this is one of the many things that being a parent is all about and I'm ready. I've got this! I might need some xanax when this is all over with, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. :)