by Vyckie

It’s been a while since I’ve written an update on my family.  The younger kids have been gone to camp and visitation with Warren ~ so I’ve been trying to relax and de-stress this summer ~ although that hasn’t quite worked out like I planned.

At least once a week, my counselor, Deb, and I have been working on my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder using EMDR which is something I did not want to try when my kids were home ~ just in case I turned into a psycho lady from processing past trauma.

The first step in processing was to identify my primary negative cognition ~ which, we figured out is: I can’t win.  When Deb asked me, on a scale of 0 to 10 how strongly I feel/believe that I can’t win, I responded, “It’s at least an 11.” 

“And worse than that,” I told her, “is I keep trying ~ even knowing that I’m doomed before I even start ~ it’s total insanity!” 

So we’ve been working on that …

I’ve also spent much of my time over at John’s house with him reading to me in his deep, soothing voice ~ he read, American Gods by Neil Gaiman in which a whole big ugly war ~ between the old tribal gods and the new gods of technology, media, celebrity, etc. ~ was nothing more than a two-man con instigated by the All-Father and a Norse god who both thrive on blood and contention.  The protagonist put an end to it by explaining the game to the other gods who then quit fighting each other and went back to their regular business of getting people to believe, follow, sacrifice, etc.  

We also read Anything Can Happen by George Papashvily ~ John did the broken-English accent so well that I felt like I was actually listening to the old Georgian immigrant himself telling me all his adventures of coming to America ~ very cool.

For all my efforts to avoid conflict and drama this summer, it seems there’s always something ~ and the current “something” involves deplorable behavior on the part of presumably intelligent, Christian adults ~ some of whom I have considered my friends ~ which, honestly has me disconcerted and heartsick enough to think, “Why bother?”

Which to me is too scary of a question to ask since I know that I do not have any really good answer for it these days ~ so my “I can’t win” cognition is pushed up to a 12 or 13 on that 0 – 10 scale.

My Uncle Ron recently emailed me an article, “Why Am I Here? Our Struggle For Meaning, In The World And Church” by Robert Jensen. 

In his discourse, Jensen, who is not a theist, asks the question, “When the Christian world sometimes seems split about evenly between intolerant fundamentalists and ineffectual liberals, why should we struggle for a Christianity that is truly radical in theology, ethics, and politics, in principle and in practice?”

In response to his own question, Jensen tells about Abe Osheroff, “a radical [secular] activist who spent his 92 years struggling to contribute to a better world.”

(Watch the video ~ otherwise what follows won’t make much sense ~ sorry, Mimi!)

After watching this little clip, I wrote back to Ron:

Thanks for sharing this sermon with me.  It was actually inspiring until I watched the trailer for the documentary about Abe Osheroff ~ and that took me right back to all my old Christian apologetic arguments, esp. ~ how can we have an ethical obligation to ”fight the good fight” if there is no God? ~ and since Abe says the good fight is already lost anyway ~ then it really is counterintuitive to continue to struggle. 

I keep thinking that, taking the idea of “survival of the fittest” from evolution ~ if by our fighting and struggling and resisting, we are actually strengthening the enemy that’s going to consume us, why not just passively allow ourselves to be overcome so that we’re merely food (and if we live a soft, frivolous, indulgent life ~ we might not even be nourishing food) without also being exercise and a challenge to make the enemy stronger and more ferocious?
 
Not that such philosophizing actually stops me from resisting [I'm not] allowing myself to be overcome ~ it is rather tempting though since I am quite tired of the struggles …

Whenever life gets all crazy and unmanageable ~ I set to work cleaning my house, since clutter is something I know I can get a grip on and when my house is all in order, I believe that I can think straight and not be quite so stressed out.  So ~ that’s what I’ve done.  The yard, which had been neglected all summer ~ is now beautiful ~ all weeded and mowed and trimmed.  

Although I hired a kid from the Salvation Army youth group to do most of the yard work, Heather and her husband also came over to help out.

As we were pulling up weeds ~ some of which were as tall as I am, Heather was coming up with all sorts of sermon illustrations. I think my weed mess was bad enough to provide a month’s worth of sermon material ~ LOL

When we got to the roses, one of the neighbor kids was giving Heather detailed instructions about how to properly prune the bushes. He sounded like a gardening expert, and his mother explained that he learned about pruning from a recent sermon illustration at their church.

Ugh ~ that was triggering to me. I tried to not let it get to me ~ but couldn’t help stating that the idea that God has to continually whack us down ’til we appear almost dead ~ and we should accept this “pruning” gratefully with the promise that this will cause us to flourish and become even more productive and more beautiful in the future ~ really, really sucks.

Personally, I’m sick and tired of the pruning. I’m not feeling grateful. I’m feeling cut down and chopped up. Even though I don’t actually believe in God ~ I do wish He’d leave me to just grow wild and scraggly and if my soul is in danger of growing weak and unhealthy from lack of proper pruning ~ then so be it ~ just leave it alone and let it go.

So here’s the crazy part: despite my anger, frustration and discouragement ~ I transplanted a volunteer maple tree over on the south side of the house where we really could use some shade ~ which made me feel so hopeful ~ like the young couple that just moved in next door and planted a new tree in their front yard.  

As I watched them planting that tree ~ with their little baby playing nearby ~ my heart felt stung by their happy expectation of good things for the future.

Truthfully, such optimism baffles me ~ so I was especially surprised (even a little annoyed) to find it there in my own head as I’ve been carrying a pitcher of water outside every day to water the young maple.  The tree seems to be taking root.  I can actually imagine my family someday sitting in its shade and gazing up with delighted facsination as hundreds of helicopter seeds gracefully drop from the branches and whirl to the ground …
 
Inside, Chassé and I have been doing the “kiddie shuffle” in which everyone gets moved to a new bedroom and all their stuff gets sorted, tossed out, donated, and whatever’s left over is organized.  Berea got her own apartment, Andrew gets Berea’s room, Chassé gets Andrew’s, Lydia gets Chasse’s ~ Hazelle and Wesley stay put, but we did get their rooms looking pretty good too.
 
Hazelle came home from her dad’s early and has been helping out when she’s not catching up with her friends whom she hasn’t seen all summer.  Andrew and Lydia are home now too ~ they’re both thrilled with their new bedrooms and so far, they are keeping their stuff neat and tidy.

Wesley will be home tomorrow.  Recently, I was talking to him on the phone and he told me, “When I get home, as soon as I see you, I’m going to hug you REALLY BIGLY!!!” 

LOL ~ can’t wait! I’ve missed all my little ones ♥ ♥

And now Chassé is off to camp in Wisconsin.  Yesterday morning I was awakened by her text message, “I love you so much” ~ and a little later, again ~ “I love you, Mom!” 

Many huge yawns and a cup of coffee later, I texted back, “I love you too.  Are you having fun?” 

No ~ it turns out that she’s not having fun since learning that her friend’s mother just died in a car accident.  “Please don’t go dying on me, okay?  I love you very much.”

I’ve said it before ~ I still agree that children are a blessing.  This is one way my children bless me: they make it really hard to get very depressed and absolutely impossible to give up and simply allow myself to be overcome by that which seeks to devour me. 

So here I am ~ still fighting the good fight long after I’d have expected to run out of steam sans the power of the Holy Spirit and the motivation of The True Truth to keep me going.

Currently, my “I can’t win” cognition is completely off the scale ~ but thanks to my kids, there’s an overriding defiance ~ that feeling of camaraderie with Mr. Osheroff’s  Freedom Train passengers who, when the train runs into a big mountain, ”they get out and push that fucking train till it gets up to the top of the hill, then they get back in and continue with the ride” ~ it’s a ride for human freedom which has no final stop.

Discuss this post on the NLQ forum.

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“MOM! Help!!!”

“I hate being sick!”

“I don’t wanna barf anymore!”

“I can’t take it anymore ~ my stomach’s hurting so bad!”

“I think I’m gonna die!!”

“MOM!!!!”

Lydia Jean and Wesley took turns throwing up all night ~ so between the two of them, none of us got much sleep. Poor kids ~ they’re so pathetic when they don’t feel good! :(

It’s not the best start for Mother’s Day ~ but it has the advantage of being a good excuse to skip church ~ I was pretty sure that I would not be able to make it through a Mother’s Day service in my present state of anxiety anyway.

At least the pencil shaving smell that’s been stuck in my nose is going away ~ I’m only catching a whiff of it now and then.  Instead, I have a new smell developing which I haven’t been able to identify yet ~ something sweet ~ which is a welcome relief from the dry, pungent smell of lead and wood that’s been making crazy for the past couple of weeks.

I’m not feeling quite so anxious either ~ still tired and jittery ~ but not uncontrollably weepy and that feels like progress so I haven’t taken an anti-anxiety pill for the past two days.  Hooray.

Lydia Jean’s 10th birthday party on Friday was pure pandemonium ~ of the wild and fun variety. We had at least a dozen 9 & 10 year olds here for pizza and cake ~ thankfully, that part of the celebration only lasted about an hour and a half ~ the girls ran around and laughed and danced and shrieked at the top of their lungs ~ I’m sure every one of them must have went home with a headache ~ LOL!

Not surprisingly, when it was all over and things settled down from complete chaos to the usual commotion of evening activities, I started to feel panicky ~ but rather than give in to it, I distracted myself by cleaning up the party mess ~ washing the dishes calmed me down ~ don’t know what it is about dish washing, but it actually is a relaxing activity ~ and having the kitchen clean also helps tremendously in keeping the anxiety in check. When the house does not look like a tornado just went through (or in this case ~ all the girls in Lydia’s 4th grade class), I feel much happier and more relaxed.

Chassé was the first to get sick ~ she spent just about all of Friday and most of yesterday in bed.  Since I didn’t have her to help me out, I cancelled plans for Grandma & Grandpa to come over to celebrate Lydia’s birthday ~ in fact, I cancelled everything so I could stay home all day and do nothing.

[It could have been a relaxing day ~ but if ever I felt like the Universe has conspired to make certain this latest episode of physical breakdown ends with me being carried away in a straight jacket as someone (who? Grandma maybe?) explains to the kids that they'll be able to see Mommy again during visiting hours on the psych ward ... but, I cannot tell you any details about that ...]

In an effort to escape all the drama, Chassé rented some videos and watched movies with Wesley and Lydia (Hazelle and Andrew watched TV in their own bedrooms) while John read to me from a hillarious book which had us both cracking up ~ laughing therapy also helps to keep the panic at bay.  We were enjoying the book so much ~ we pressed our luck with “one more chapter” ~ but just as the funny “god junior” character in the story was in the act of performing a miracle ~ Wesley barfed all over my bedroom carpet. Ugh.

After cleaning up the mess and settling Wesley down for a long, restless night ~ I sent a text message to Heather, my pastor/friend who just returned from Chicago:

Oh my god. I really need relief … I am cracking up and [the Universe] is determined to make sure my demise is absolute!

Heather came immediately to my rescue even though it was almost 10 p.m.

I wasn’t exactly panicking ~ though I did feel queasy and I had to fight the urge to wash my hands till they bled to get rid of the grimy feel of pencil shavings which I know is really all in my head ~ I didn’t break out crying when she looked at me ~ so, really ~ I wasn’t in the worst condition ~ but I did feel pretty miserable and I really appreciated Heather’s willingness to leave her family to come talk to me.

We talked for about an hour ~ and truthfully, nothing she said made me feel any better ~ but just the fact of knowing my friend is here for me and that she cares was a huge help.  As she was leaving, I told her that I probably would not be in church this morning because I didn’t want to risk feeling overwhelmingly depressed and anxious and freak out in front of my kids in the middle of the service and have to leave.

“I don’t want to traumatize my kids on Mother’s Day,” I said ~ trying not to get all teary at the thought of it.

Heather didn’t pressure me ~ just offered to stop by after church to help me write out a list of symptoms and questions for the neurologist ~ she’ll be going with me to my appointment tomorrow morning. Thanks, Heather!

Well ~ it’s taken me all morning to write this ~ in between sentences (sometimes even mid-sentence and mid-thought ~ so if it seems disjointed, that’s as good an explanation as any), I’ve been jumping up to comfort barfing children, feed the ones who are feeling better, running bath water, etc.  We have a massive amount of laundry piling up ~ laundry is Hazelle’s job (her way to pay for her cell phone) ~ but since there’s so much and tomorrow’s a school day, I’d better help her with it. 

Hopefully, I can take a nap before Heather gets here ~ I’m super tired and since two of the five kids haven’t thrown up yet ~ and because not getting enough rest to really recuperate and de-stress is part of the evil plot to drive me over the edge  ~ with the Universe aligned against me as it so obviously is, Hazelle and Andrew will doubtless be recruited into the conspiracy just about the time I drop off to sleep tonight …

Discuss this post on the NLQ forum!

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Happy Birthday, Lydia Jean !♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪

I feel horrible.

After my last post in which I shared about this pencil shaving smell that I have stuck in my nose ~ I read all the feedback on the forum ~ everyone’s saying, “Go to a doctor!” 

Which scared me ~ so yesterday afternoon, I went to see Janet, the physician’s assistant I’ve been seeing instead of the doctor ~ because, unlike the doctor, Janet actually TALKS to me ~ and I really appreciate that.  I told her about the smell and the taste ~ and the feeling in my hands like I’ve been playing in pencil shavings.  I told her that I was assuming the sensory hallucinations are just a regular part of going crazy ~ but after getting so many comments urging me to see a doctor, I thought it couldn’t hurt to get some testing done to make sure there’s not something physical going on. 

Janet told me she was puzzled and couldn’t imagine what would be causing me to have these smells stuck in my nose ~ especially since it is not always pencil shavings ~ it’s been cinnamon, bleach, etc.  I did mention the pituitary gland as mommybunny1 (an NLQ forum member who is also a doctor) suggested ~ but I guess I wasn’t direct enough, because Janet didn’t order any tests.  She did, however, get me an appt. with a neurologist ~ I’m supposed to see him on Monday.  She also switched me from Lorazepam to Clonazepam ~ which is a related anti-anxiety drug that’s supposedly not so addictive.

Afterwards, I went to HyVee to pick up cupcakes for Lydia’s birthday.  Sadly ~ the only cupcakes they had were plain white with a few colored sprinkles ~ they were rather boring ~ and the gal working in the bakery seemed reluctant to decorate cupcakes (usually, they have extra cupcakes in the freezer which they can decorate in just a few minutes) ~ so I told her that I’d check at Walmart. Picky, I know ~ but I also knew that I’d feel like a better mother if I drove all the way across town in order to obtain fancy purple cupcakes for Lydia to share with her classmates.  I went to Walmart ~ and they did have plenty of colorful, purple cupcakes ~ so hooray. 

The family therapy session yesterday evening went really well. Deb came over to our house and after gving her a tour of everybody’s bedrooms (Lydia’s is a big mess!), we all gathered in the livingroom to discuss chores and schedules.  Berea joined us since she’ll be done with college for the semester next week and is planning to move back home for the summer.

Deb explained a little about the anxiety I’ve been experiencing ~ and asked the kids to think of ways they could help out.  Wesley was the first to raise his hand a make a suggestion:

“We should hug Mom all the time.”

Aw ~ sweet! I like that rule.

Anyway ~ as I said the session went well ~ and the overall conclusion is that the kids need to come straight home after school and not bring their friends over.  They have to do their homework and chores FIRST ~ and then they can go outside and play.  Sounds like a good plan which will hopefully avoid the bedtime panic when I usually realize that I’ve been spaced out all evening and haven’t paid any attention to the kids ~ and so instead of going to bed, they all need to finish their homework or the kitchen’s a mess ~ sometimes we haven’t even had dinner yet. 

As Deb was writing down the rules for us, I told her to be sure to add: If Mom’s brain shuts off ~ follow these rules anyway!

So ~ the kids were all very cooperative (I have awesome kids) ~ and I was encouraged. 

This morning I started out with great plans to get all my errands done.  Today was Lydia Jean’s 10th birthday ~ so I drove her to school because she didn’t want to carry her purple cupcakes to school and risk dropping them on the way.

Mimi called and offered to come over a couple times a week to help after school.  I invited her to have lunch with me so we could talk about all the stuff I’m juggling and see what of it she could help with. (Thanks, Mom!)

So ~ I was running my errands ~ went to the store, the bank, the pharmacy ~ but by the time I made it to Taco Bell for lunch with Mimi ~ my heart was pounding and I was feeling idisoriented and dizzy.  I had the hardest time focusing to talk to her ~ and before I could finish eating, I was feeling super nervous and like I had to get out of there.  Mimi offered to meet me at the house to help Hazelle (who got out of school early) with laundry and planting seeds in the garden ~ and also to be here after school when the kids got home. 

I was supposed to pick up Chassé and go to my counseling appt. with Deb and then we were going to get pizza and cake for Lydia’s b-day party tomorrow ~ but by the time I drove home, I was in such a state that I could not think and I was pretty sure I was going to break down crying ~ so I went back and forth between wanting to go my appt. and talk to Deb and needing to go to bed.  Since I couldn’t decide, I asked Chassé to tell me what to do ~ she gave me an anti-anxiety pill and sent me to bed.  As soon as she shut my bedroom door, I broke into uncontrollable sobbing and couldn’t think to do any deep breathing or relaxation ~ just cried myself to sleep ~ that was around one o’clock this afternoon.

I didn’t wake up until a little before 6 p.m. ~ so I slept through Mimi coming over and the kids getting home and following our new schedule ~ I guess they got along okay while I was zonked out. 

Ugh ~ this is no way to live.

Chassé is being mini-mom ~ which I appreciate ~ but at the same time, I hate it because she had to skip Women’s Ministries (where she gets to be with her church friends) in order to take care of her siblings for me. My poor kids!

Even though I have a bunch of stuff I want to work on for the Take Heart Project ~ plus I have several really good articles that have been submitted for NLQ that I want to get posted ~ I think I will do nothing tomorrow except try to rest. If you’ve sent me a PM or email ~ please know that I have read it and will get back to you ~ hopefully soon.

After school, we’re having a birthday party for Lydia ~ I told her she can have all the friends she wants over for pizza and cake ~ but only one friend can spend the night because I have learned from experience that two 4th grade girls at a sleepover is plenty of drama and three or more would definitely be enough to send me to the insane assylum.  Hazelle and her friend, Jenny are taking charge of the party ~ they’ll organize some games and serve the cake so I don’t have to be the entertainment committee for all of Lydia’s friends.  Sounds like a wild time, huh?

Hopefully, if I can sleep most of the day while the kids are in school, I’ll be okay for the party ~ LOL

So ~ it’s bedtime and the kids are all talking at once ~ Chassé tells me that Grandma may need anti-anxiety pills after witnessing the after-school mayhem. Lydia is freaking out because I didn’t pick up the pizza and cake today ~ I told her that John will take Chassé to get it tomorrow ~ so now she’s worried that Chassé will embarrass her in front of all her friends by picking out a little kid cake with Elmo or Dora “or something with a big ‘wiener’ on it that says, ‘Happy 1st Birthday. Loser!’”) ~ and despite my reassurances that the cake will be just fine ~ she’s ready to cancel the party.  Andrew is in love with the same girl that his two best friends both like ~ and he wanted to tell me that Adam is planning to ask Lydia out just to make Maddy jealous ~ but it won’t matter because Andy is already dating Maddy ~ and since Andrew is still talking to Andy even though he betrayed his friends by dating the girl they all like ~ now Adam is refusing to be friends with Andrew … what should he do?

Huh? I can hardly hear what they’re saying because all I can think about is the pencil shaving smell in my nose.

So Wesley, sensing my anxiety, I think ~ gives me a big hug. “This is my favorite chore!” he tells me.

Mine too!  ♥ ♥

Now let’s all get to bed ~ okay?  There’ll be plenty of time to continue all this drama tomorrow.

But ~ my day is not over because Berea is in the chat room and wants to discuss the big problem she’s having with Angel ~ and that’s too personal for me to blog about ~ but truthfully, that situation makes everything else that I’ve written here seem like small potatoes.

Why do these kids not come with a pause button?

I.just.don’t.feel.like.dealing.with.it.right.now.

Sorry. I have to go back to bed. Night, night.

Discuss

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Chassé and me in Minneapolis back in April. Ugh ~ I was tired back then too ~ looked like I was about to cry.

by Vyckie

The freakiest thing has been happening to me lately: I’m having sensory hallucinations.  Weird smells that get stuck in my nose and mouth for days.  The first time it happened was last summer ~ for several days, all I could smell was cinnamon.  I tasted it too. 

The cinnamon smell eventually went away ~ but since then, I’ve had the same thing happen with the smell of bleach, Listerine, oregano, dish soap, cat litter ~ it’s always a strong, distinct odor which completely overwhelms my sense of smell and taste. 

For over a week now, all I can smell is fresh pencil shavings.  Our lilacs are in bloom ~ and even when I stick a bunch of blossoms right under my nose and take a deep breath ~ all I smell is lead and sawdust. I usually chew Winterfresh gum ~ and lately, I can only taste the mint flavor for about a minute ~ and then the gum tastes like lead.

 Yuck.  It is very distracting.

When I mentioned this to my counselor, Deb, last week ~ she suggested that the olfactory hallucination might be PTSD-related: a traumatic memory trying to surface ~ something associated with the smell of sharpening a pencil.  Deb has been using EMDR therapy on me to help with the PTSD ~ but she thinks (and I agree), that this would not be a good time to try bringing up the memory to reprocess since it could lead to even more anxiety than I’m already dealing with.

I’ve been having almost non-stop anxiety and frequent panic attacks for a couple of months now.   I’m pretty sure the anxiety is mostly a physiological thing ~ pain and exhaustion lead to the panicky feelings ~ and then my mind tries to come up with an explanation for why I’m feeling so terrified.  That’s when the racing thoughts come in ~ and since the stuff that goes through my head at those times is so disturbing ~ I will do anything to escape my thoughts.

Last week when I got to my counseling appointment ~ my heart was pounding, I felt dizzy and disoriented, my ears were hot, and that pencil shaving smell was making me nuts!  Deb suggested that we try a deep relaxation exercise.  She put on a CD of soothing music, had me relax on the couch, and then slowly, calmly talked me through the relaxation of all my muscles from head to toe. 

Throughout the exercise, Deb told me to breathe in deeply, hold it, then let it out while telling myself to “let go and relax.”  At first, every time I took a breath, all I could think of was that damned pencil shaving smell ~ but about midway through ~ when I was tensing and then relaxing the muscles in my hands, I took a deep breath ~ and noticed that I was breathing fresh air.  The smell was gone!  Cool.

After we were finished ~ instead of being distracted by the smell of pencil shavings, I was amazed by the fact that I couldn’t smell it anymore.  Later that evening, I caught the smell coming back off and on ~ but for the most part, it was gone for about a day and a half.  Since then, the pencil shaving smell has been in my head pretty much constantly ~ it’s just a symptom of the anxiety, I guess.

Today, the hallucination spread to my sense of touch.  My hands feel like I’ve been rubbing them in pencil shavings ~ dry and dusty and dirty.  Even right after I wash my hands ~ the filthy feeling is still there. Ugh ~ it’s driving me crazy. 

Either that, or it is a sign that I have already gone crazy.

I have not been making much progress on my list ~ although, for the most part, the kids and I are keeping up with regular stuff such as meals and cleaning.  I was relieved to think that I’d be getting a helper to come in each day right after school to help me keep focused on directing the kids to do their homework and chores before going off to play with their friends.  As it is ~ no matter how much I try to prepare myself for the onslaught ~ when they all walk in the door after school and start handing me papers, showing me their assignments, asking for money for this and a signature for that, wanting help with a project, etc ~ my brain freezes up and the next thing I know ~ it’s time for bed.

Seriously ~ it’s like I turn into Zombie Mom for several hours ~ and the kids know it and they take advantage of it by going off to their friends’ houses or getting on the computer or watching TV.  Around 8 p.m., I realize that it’s almost bedtime and nothing has been done.  So then it’s a scramble:  Wesley, do you have homework to do?  Whose night is it to wash dishes?  Does anyone remember if we had dinner?  Yikes!

Deb and I came up with a plan for keeping the kids on track right after school in order to avoid the evening panic ~ but the application for a helper was denied by Medicaid ~ too bad, huh?  Of course, the news did not help me to “let go and relax” ~ but, I’m trying to make the best of it by explaining to the kids that they’re going to have to be my helpers.  For the most part, they are helpful ~ but they are also children ~ and not Quiverfull precious lambs ~ so depending on them to take over and fill in for me when I’m incapacitated due to the various head trips that I’ve been having lately is not a sure bet. 

In my quivering days, when I couldn’t function during my pregnancies, or when I needed to be in Minneapolis for the girls’ medical check-ups and surgeries ~ I could rely on Angel to take over ~ and she was as good as having a full-grown adult in charge.  I didn’t need to worry that anyone would get neglected or the house would be in shambles or someone might decide to play with matches in my absence.

Chassé has been helping out considerably ~ but it’s not the same.  She has not been trained to be an indentured servant ~ and even if she was capable and willing ~ I no longer believe that it is fair (yes ~ I do believe in trying to be “fair” these days) to expect my 17-year-old to put her life on hold while I struggle through this episode of low blood pressure-induced anxiety.

So ~ what to do?  Truthfully, I’m not really sure. 

Hazelle had a “Life Skills” demonstration at school today which she wanted me to attend.  After taking Chassé to her G.E.D. class, I made a quick trip to the counseling office before going to the middle school to see Hazelle.  I wanted to pick up a copy of the relaxation exercise from Deb so that John could read it to me in the evenings.  (I told John that he gets to be my anti-anxiety drug ~ he says it’s fine with him if I use him that way ~ LOL)

When I got to the office, I picked up the paper and then asked if Deb had a few minutes ~ she did. “I just need to have a quick breakdown before I go to Hazelle’s thing,” I told her ~ and then started sobbing uncontrollably.  When I insisted that I am obviously freaking out and going crazy, Deb assured me that I am not going crazy ~ I am sane and safe ~ and I am going to get through this. 

I did get through Hazelle’s demonstration ~ by the time I drove from the counselling office to the school, I was not feeling quite so weepy ~ I dried my eyes, took a deep breath ~ and joined the other parents as the kids showed us all the various life skills they have been learning this semester. 

Afterwards, I picked up Chassé from class, came home, took an anti-anxiety pill and went to bed ~ leaving Chassé to deal with the after-school chaos.  She handled everything pretty well ~ at least, there was no screaming and I was able to take a nap.  Yesterday at the grocery store, I bought some special treats (Popsicles and cookies) which I told her she could use as bribes to get her younger siblings to cooperate.  I know ~ it’s a terrible way to raise kids ~ but it’s not intended to be a permanent solution ~ just a little helpful trick to get us by until I’m feeling better or can get a grown-up helper with more authority in her voice than Chassé has ~ LOL

Yikes ~ it’s almost midnight.  The nap was helpful ~ and afterwards, I went over to John’s to do the relaxation thing (his voice is as soothing as Deb’s ~ the pencil shaving smell is gone again) ~ so I am feeling better ~ but I’m not going to push my luck by staying up super late.  Tomorrow’s another day ~ hopefully, I’ll be more calm and can think to actually get a few things accomplished.

Night All.  Thanks for your help, Chassé ~ love you. ♥ ♥ 

Discuss this post on the NLQ forums!

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While waiting for Angel’s Show Choir concert to start last Sunday afternoon, Lydia Jean used markers to color Andrew’s hands.  I was thinking, What if I forget to make Andrew take a bath?  He can’t go to school like that.  When we get home, things will be so crazy ~ I’m sure to forget and in the morning, he’s not going to have enough time to wash all that color off his hands.  I know that I will forget. Ugh ~ I’m so doomed! 

Don’t panic … calm down … deep breaths …

by Vyckie

Back in December, sometime before Christmas, I had a horrible migraine headache which had me in bed all day with my head covered ~ wishing someone would shoot me and put me out of my misery.  Nobody did.  (Which reinforces my old QF thinking that I cannot die ~ I’m still too necessary with all these kids depending on me.) For two or three weeks afterwards, I could not think ~ I felt like the headache had killed off brain cells and left me in a daze.

Since that time, my blood pressure has been super low ~ which always makes me feel like a zombie ~ and with the poor blood circulation comes THE PAIN. I’m not sure if the pain from the bone condition coupled with Fibromyaligia actually gets worse when my blood pressure drops or if I just lose my high tolerance for pain and can’t ignore it like I usually do ~ but lately, it has been incredibly distracting as all I can think about is, “Ouch!” and “Yikes!” and “Why can’t I cope with this?”

As a result, I’ve been tempted with depression ~ which I have been fairly successful in suppressing simply by refusing to think.  When I am hurting, if I let my thoughts go ~ inside my head, I sound something like this:

Too bad I can’t pray about this pain ~ or at least ask others to pray for me.  Since I don’t believe all the God-stuff anymore ~ guess I just have to suck it up and wait it out ~ be tough until this episode of low blood pressure passes.  Ouch. Ugh ~ why should I be strong?  I don’t have anything to prove ~ no testimony to uphold ~ no Holy Spirit to empower me ~ no Jesus to strengthen me ~ no eternal reward to motivate me to endure this torture … why not just give up?

Since I don’t have any good arguments to counter that debilitating line of thinking ~ I’ve been trying hard not to go there.  For my kids’ sake ~ I have to keep going ~ I cannot allow myself to get apathetic or despondent.

“That’s just the pain talking,” I tell myself, “don’t listen to it.”

So instead of paying attention to the mess in my head, I turn on my iPod and crank up some mind-numbing Hip-Hop music, or I ask John to read to me ~ I can’t stand to read fiction myself, but John has a deep, dramatic voice which makes it easy to get caught up in the story and escape my disheartening thoughts for a while ~ sometimes I watch a movie with the kids ~ or sit out on the patio swing with Andrew, Lydia and Wesley and listen to their little-kid philosophical ramblings (which actually can be rather insightful ~ always so optimistic and hopeful) ~ if all else fails ~ I go to sleep.  I usually don’t have much trouble getting to sleep as I’m always so exhausted that I am out the instant my head hits the pillow.  On the rare occasion when I can’t sleep because I’m in too much pain and can’t get comfortable ~ rather than laying in bed letting my mind wander down the melancholy path it wants to take ~ I have a shot or two of brandy and knock myself out.

Once in a while, I get desperate enough to consider thinking constructively ~ I can sense that being dispossessed of my faith is a real loss ~ I know that I need something to believe in to give me hope and enthusiasm and a reason to buck up and press on …

Only I remember that at the time I was waking up to the evil and destruction of my fundamentalist Quiverfull beliefs ~ I was in such a panic ~ I scrambled to find something of my faith that I could hold onto ~ something I could salvage and say, “At least this I still believe.”  I read a stack of books ~ theology, philosophy, apologetics, hermeneutics, comparative religions ~ and I scoured the Internet for information and ideas ~ had long, deep conversations with anyone who was willing to be a sounding board or offer their perspective … Sadly for me, I came away from that search empty-handed ~ or should I say, “empty headed”? 

(LOL ~ along with my loss of faith, I’ve also given up the need to seem like I’m actually “with it” ~ so if everyone thinks I’m seriously a nutcase ~ I’m not defensive about it ~ in fact, I might be inclined to agree.)

I want to believe ~ because I have experienced all the benefits of belief ~ and I know I need something like that to bolster my courage and motivate me to tackle “my list” ~ so I do still try to figure out the nature of the universe and the meaning of life ~ I’m still reading and thinking ~ puzzling ~ hoping for some new revelation which I can actually accept without having to squeeze myself and/or God back into a box.

I have this (possibly irrational) idea that whatever I end up believing and committing myself to is going to have to be REALLY GOOD ~ extraordinarily brilliant.  After having experienced the power of the Quiverfull vision ~ an idea so compelling that I risked my life repeatedly as I had absolute confidence that the revelation of godly family living was The Truth ~ I can’t imagine that I will ever be inspired by conventional explanations of my purpose for being.

Realistically, I’m pretty sure there’s no ideal so grand and all-consuming ~ and at the same time, true ~ which I’d be willing to completely center my life around the way I did with my fundamentalist Christianity.  Which is a discouraging thought.

Which is why I mostly try to avoid thinking.

The best way I’ve come up with to describe the extreme sense of anti-climax and disorientation ~ the emptiness ~ the fizzle ~ which really messes with a QF-walkaway’s ability to keep going is to liken it to the feeling I imagine an Esctasy addict must experience after coming down from the drug and going through withdrawals ~ and trying to be happy with feeling “normal” again.

It used to be that as a QF mother raising up mighty warriors for the Lord’s army ~ every act of service ~ no matter how mundane ~ from changing diapers to washing mounds of dishes to matching up a tub-load of socks to making enough pizza to feed an army ~ all of it was of eternal consequence.  It was all for His glory ~ plus, I was earning jewels to adorn the crown of righteousness which I’d wear in Heaven as reward for my dedicated, faithful service ~ for doing my part to advance His Kingdom on earth.

Now ~ it’s just chores.  It is work.  And it is a ton of work at that.

So if I’m not working on my 12-page “to-do” list for the glory of God ~ why do it at all?

Okay ~ this is my cue to have a panic attack.

I hate to quit writing at this horribly depressing point ~ I should press on until I get to something encouraging and end this post on a positive note ~ but this is already too long and I’m tired of writing.  Sorry. 

But ~ it is the weekend ~ and since I’m determined to relax and be happy ~ I won’t go away from this post all discouraged and overwhelmed …

I did forget to tell Andrew to take a bath ~ but there was no need to panic.  Andrew had entertained himself during the church service earlier in the day by writing the name of the girl in his class that he’s in love with (shhhh! don’t tell anyone it’s Maddy!) ~ surrounded with hearts and flowers.  No way did he want to be caught with that on his arm ~ so he was self-motivated to get in the tub and scrub all the markings off with no need for Mom to tell him to get it done. :)

Discuss this depressingly “realistic” post on the NLQ forums ~ LOL

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by Vyckie

The Quiverfull folks at Vision Forum are gearing up for their Baby Conference: A Historic Family Summit on the Triumph of Life Over the Culture of Death to be held in San Antonio, Texas this coming July.  According to conference promotional material:

As the world lauds barrenness for economic and personal convenience and marginalizes the value of our aging populace, we purpose to celebrate life and to explore a myriad of practical and theological issues that are pertinent to Christian families of the twenty-first century, such as: adoption, home birth, the coming cry for euthanasia on the horizon as our elderly generation increases, and the many blessings that come from raising children in the fear of the Lord.

One of the highlights of the Baby Conference will be a special “Ladies Tea Time” in which Michelle Duggar will be presented with a Mother of the Year award for “her heroic example to millions as a role model of Christian motherhood and her defense of life.”

As a former Quiverfull “mom of many” ~ I have to say that what Michelle modeled for me was an incredibly high standard of Christian motherhood. 

She inspired me with a vision of what a wonderful testimony my own family could be as I gave over my reproductive life into the Lord’s capable hands and trusted in Him to strengthen and empower me to raise up the children He blessed me with to be dedicated, faithful, on-fire Christians willing and able to do mighty exploits in the ever-intensifying battle against the advancing forces of darkness in this sin-sick nation.

Michelle made the whole big-happy-homeschool-family-living-for-Jesus picture of submissive helpmeet and prolific motherhood seem not only incredibly attractive ~ but fairly straightforward, uncomplicated … and doable.

All it takes are some basic administrative skills: organization, time management, delegation … plus, a biblical child-training program … and character education ~ to be sure the children are also inspired to cooperate … um, what else?  a piano teacher?  Too bad we couldn’t afford ATI ~ but if that had been truly necessary, surely the Lord would have moved us to Texas and provided more money (a lot more money).

We’d need to have God’s blessing, of course ~ but not to worry: with our wholehearted dedication to the Lord and unwavering adherence to the principles which He was revealing to us through the Word of God ~ as long as we were in His will ~ God’s blessing was pretty much guaranteed.

Having God’s blessing meant that whatever we lacked in competency, ability, health, time, money, etc. ~ the Lord would make up for so long as we remained faithful to His calling.

Isn’t that what the verse promises, after all?  Blessed is the man who has his quiver full of them?  So how could we go wrong?  Surely, if Michelle could do it with her mega-family ~ I could do it with “only seven” arrows in our quiver.

In the Quiverfull economy, “heroic Christian motherhood” simply means producing an abundance of children ~ trust the Lord, have babies ~ then keep on trusting that He’ll take care of the rest. 

What I found out after investing over a dozen years, plenty of money(I’d have thought nothing of forkng out the Baby Conference admission price of $85 per individual), every ounce of my energy ~ not to mention, my whole heart, mind, body and strength ~ is that the Quiverfull lifestyle is a perfect set up for child neglect. 

The truth is, there is absolutely NO WAY that one woman can be a decent ~ let alone good or exemplary ~ mother to so many children.

There. I said it.  It’s just impossible ~ plain and simple.

In the two-plus years since I left the QF lifestyle ~ I’ve been living off the collateral from all the effort invested in developing organizational skills and my sanity-preserving ”gift of delegation.”  Much of what I learned (lower your standards, use the crock-pot, etc.) from the Titus 2 ladies has really helped to keep us afloat. 

But recently, my health has not been so great (the result of too many pregnancies combined with PTSD has been adding up to frequent episodes of anxiety and depression) ~ and try as I might ~ I can’t keep up ~ and so I’m feeling completely overwhelmed.

So okay ~ I thought, I’ve done this before ~ even adding in homeschooling (which I’m no longer doing) ~ and managed for the most part to keep up.  Maybe it might help to do a little refresher course? ~ revisit the QF hints and tips which were so helpful in managing my little flock of “precious lambs” ~ in an effort to find ways of getting a handle on the huge amount of responsibility that comes with having so many children.

The only problem is ~ nearly all that helpful large-family management advice is dependent upon the underlying QF-parenting philosophy ~ which basically amounts to turning your kids into easy-to-control automatons and de facto family servants.

How does Michelle do it? 

Truthfully:

The older girls do the cooking. (Question #3)

The older children and their “buddies” do the cleaning. (Question #3)

She relies on “the buddy system” ~ older children care for and teach the younger ones ~ as explained by Jim Bob here:

M. DUGGAR: Yes, it is great, the buddy system. This house would not work if we didn’t have the buddy system. The older children mentor the younger ones. They help them with their little phonics lessons and games during the day, help them practice their music lessons. They will play with them or help them pick out the color of their outfit that they want to wear that day, and just all of those types of things.

(More on the Buddy System here.)

Training her daughters to be keepers at home explains how Michelle manages to feed her brood. (She delegates.) The Buddy System explains how Michelle manages the basics such as hygiene and homeschooling. (She delegates.)

What about the children’s social and emotional needs?  As a former QFer, I well remember the way we “moms of many” reassured ourselves with the thought that, while our quiver full of children are undoubtedly denied copious amounts of one-on-one time with Momma ~ the Lord has provided built-in friends and playmates so we could rest assured that our children were still getting plenty of love ~ an abundance of love, in fact ~ from each other. 

From Examiner.com: … watch those little details, like Jackson clinging to Jana for comfort after he was lost in the airport (while his parents laugh blithely in the background) or Jennifer crying for Jill whenever she’s upset. You can call it being a buddy all you want — the truth of the matter is that those girls are parenting their little siblings … (Again ~ she delegates.)

“Michelle Duggar is the real deal,” noted Doug Phillips, President of Vision Forum Ministries. “… She is clearly a mother deserving of this award, and we are excited to honor her as ‘Mother of the Year.’”

I disagree.

Consider this: According to the Christian Newswire report, “Jim Bob and Michelle will share their story together, and Michelle will also be hosting a separate Ladies Tea Time, which is close to selling-out in the two weeks since the event was announced.”

Please tell me who is going to be taking care of baby Josie while Michelle is in San Antonio accepting this mothering award and playing Tea Party with fellow QF moms who are privileged with the luxuries of time and money to attend this event? 

Seriously.  By the time of the Baby Conference in July, micro-preemie, Josie Duggar will only have been home from the hospital for a few months ~ she will need constant care for quite some time to come.  Is Michelle planning to delegate that care to the older girls?  Is she planning to bring little Josie along?

Michelle’s in-person acceptance of VF’s Mother of the Year award is … is … what? I hesitate to use the “H-word” ~ but, Wow ~ is it ever tempting! 

But, of course ~ the show must go on. 

Nobody gives Angelina Jolie a mothering award ~ because she pays others to take care of the kids for her.  Michelle Duggar does not pay her cooks, housekeepers, private tutors and nannies.  I don’t doubt that she has the very best of intentions, but honestly ~  reality dictates that at most, we should recognize her as a superior administrator.

If anyone in the Duggar household is going to receive a “Mother of the Year” award ~ shouldn’t it be the ones doing the majority of the actual mothering ~ that is, the four oldest daughters: Jana, Jill, Jessa, & Jinger?

I suppose the Vision Forum crowd looks at these four young ladies who graciously comply with the Duggar Family vision ~ and concludes that their joyful service is evidence of Michelle’s heroic Christian motherhood. 

The rest of us see a handful of beautiful girls and wonder, What the heck?!  Where’s all the drama?  ‘Cuz you know there ought to be plenty of drama with all these females in the family.  There’s something disturbing ~ even alarming ~ and certainly not praiseworthy about the mother of teen girls who don’t push their “buddies” back into Momma’s arms and say, “Take care of your own kids ~ I’ve gotta get ready for my date!”

My thanks to Kathryn Joyce, author of Quiverfull: Inside the Christian Patriarchy Movement, for bringing the Baby Conference and Michelle’s “Mother of the Year” award to my attention.

Discuss this post on the NLQ forums!
………………………………………………………………………………………

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I had lunch with Hazelle at school on her 13th birthday ~ this year was the first time that I didn’t cry as I remembered the trauma of my 4th pregnancy and delivery ~ in fact, I hardly thought of it at all ~ so yeah, time does bring healing and I’m grateful for that.

There’s an interesting discussion going on over in the NLQ forums about quiverfull families who are “trusting the Lord” with their family planning and at the same time, accepting government assistance to support their children.

themomma said: This is one of my biggest complaints against a quiver family I know.

It is all “we are leaving it God” while they are using services. I think it is “selective faith” at the least.

About the same time that we were “convicted” (sorry, Kelly ~ I’m still using that word ::) ) to trust the Lord with our family planning, we were also convicted to trust Him with our finances ~ which meant no gov’t assistance, though we easily qualified for every program available.

Because we felt it would be a poor witness to accept medicaid, I did not seek any medical care during my fourth pregnancy (our first “reversal baby”) ~ but instead found a midwife and planned a home birth even though my first three had been delivered via c-section.

Throughout the pregnancy, I had one problem after another ~ I gained 75 lbs. (my pre-pregnancy weight was 95 lbs.) ~ at six months, I went on bed rest because it was so uncomfortable to move and the midwife thought I must have torn a hernia because the pain in my lower abdomen was so intense. Plus, I had contractions almost constantly ~ so strong and regular that even Judy believed they were “the real thing” and the baby could come any time.

I was experiencing extreme anxiety, my heart was POUNDING all the time and I could feel blood whooshing through my head and my ears seemed warm, I was STARVING ~ so hungry that if I didn’t eat a full meal every two hours, I would get a horrible headache, shake and sweat like crazy ~ I knew something was terribly wrong with me, and I felt very strongly that I needed to see a doctor, but ….

The midwife would come and check me ~ listen to the baby’s strong heartbeat, check my blood pressure and tell me everything was okay ~ she told that what I really needed to do was to breathe deeply … and trust the Lord.

Once when I was feeling particularly horrible ~ my heart just racing and I felt so scared ~ I called Judy Jones (yes ~ I’m naming names here) and told her that I really needed help ~ I really needed to go to the doctor. Judy drove to my house did the usual check and assured me that I was okay and the baby was fine.

“Why am I so hungry?” I asked her for the zillionth time. Well, she suspected that I was carrying twins. Wow ~ wouldn’t that be awesome?! But in my heart, I knew there was only one baby ~ something was wrong. Even though we really didn’t have the money for it, I insisted that I needed to go to the OB/GYN. “I can’t handle this anymore ~ I feel like I’m dying!”

I was laying on the couch and Judy got down on her knees beside me and did what she called a “diaphragmatic release” ~ in which she put one hand under my lower back and her other hand on my lower abdomen and then waited patiently while the uterine muscles relaxed. It did calm me down ~ and while we waited, Judy told me a bible story.

She told me about the time when the children of Israel were wandering the in the desert ~ and the Lord was providing for their every need ~ even raining down manna from heaven for them to eat. But the Israelites grew tired and impatient ~ and greedy. They demanded meat ~ and the Lord sent so much quail that the children of Israel were sick of it.

“They had meat in abundance,” Judy explained, “but they suffered leanness of the soul.”

Leanness of the soul … that’s what happens to those who don’t trust the Lord through their trials ~ those who seek “worldly” remedies and don’t have the faith to believe that God will never give us more than we can handle.

I absolutely dreaded the thought of having a lean soul ~ I would not disappoint the Lord by giving in and going to a medical doctor who would no doubt insist on doing another c-section delivery and thereby rob me of the testimony which the Lord was working in my life through this difficult circumstance.

Later that evening, the symptoms started again ~ the pounding heart, the shaking, the fear ~ and the contractions HURT! Judy suggested that I take a warm bath which would either make the contractions go away, or else intensify them and really get my labor going.

I settled my huge body into the tub and tried to breathe deeply and relax. Tears welled up in my eyes and I prayed a very pitiful prayer, “Lord, you must really think I’m tough ~ if you think I can handle this. Please just let me feel okay.”

The contractions slowed, my heart rate calmed down ~ I didn’t feel quite so nervous. But I was SOOOOOOOOOO tired. For months I had been unable to sleep more than 15 minutes at a time because of the contractions and the pain from all the added weight. I was feeling so discouraged. So worn down.

I reached for the razor to shave my legs and suddenly had a vision of myself cutting my wrists open and slowly bleeding to death in the bathtub. “When Judy comes to check on me and finds me dead,” I thought to myself, “MAYBE then she’ll believe me when I say that I really CAN’T handle this.”

Hard as it is to imagine ~ that pregnancy only got worse from that point on. I’ll save the rest for my story ~ but here I want to say that after all the agony I suffered in my attempted home birth ~ I ended up at the hospital and was immediately given an emergency c-section. I was devastated ~ I couldn’t understand why the Lord had let me down like that.

After all, we had trusted Him ~ Warren had a vasectomy reversal and I was willing to bear as many “blessings” as He chose to send our way ~ and then after all my faithfulness and trusting throughout that horrendous pregnancy ~ I ended up with another c-section?! Where’s the testimony in that? What about my witness?

For now, I’ll spare you all the details of the delivery and recovery ~ when I went home after spending a week in the hospital, I couldn’t look at my baby Hazelle without crying ~ the trauma of it all was just too much for me.

And then the medical bills started rolling in. It was a complicated delivery and an extended stay ~ the total in bills came to almost $15,000 ~ which at that time, was nearly the same as our annual income. For about one minute, I considered that we should trust the Lord to provide for the medical expenses ~ but truthfully, I’d had enough. Nobody except me and the social worker were going to know ~ and I just didn’t have the strength and enthusiasm to wait expectantly for the Lord to provide enough money to pay all those bills ~ so I didn’t hesitate to sign up for medicaid.

Later, I regretted it ~ I thought of it as the devil’s victory ~ I had cooperated with Satan in denying God an opportunity to show His faithfulness ~ ‘cuz somehow, I was sure that, had I not signed up for medicaid, He WOULD have come through for us and those bills would have been paid ~ and that could have been another part of our testimony for the Lord.

I’d let Him down … it wasn’t what I had meant to do at all … I’d stuck it out way beyond what I’d have ever imagined that I was capable of … I’d tried so hard to be faithful … and yet, I could feel the leanness in my soul.

Discuss this post on the NLQ forums!

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