Defining Optimism

I don't think I really need to add much more to that.  Wanna know why I'm an optimist (outside of my religious views)?  Here ya go.  Even in the worst of worsts, even when I'm so stressed that I think my head will explode, and even when I'm so angry that I want to shut the whole world out..... this will ALWAYS be true for me.  I may not always feel like I'm doing super great, but I'm always abundantly blessed.

Life Lessons

Sometimes I wonder when our luck is going to run out.  Really, really bad things that completely crush some people/families keep happening to us..... but we keep coming out the other side.  I'm understanding that luck simply has nothing to do with it. 

I've come to the realization that all of these "bad things" aren't really bad things.  They are simply life.  Life happens all day, every day, all around us.  Whether we're expecting it or not.  Things change and we go through experiences because nothing ever gets accomplished and no one ever grows/learns if everything just stays the same all the time. 

I worried and stressed about Billy losing his job.  I don't know how we made it through 4-ish months of unemployment and living on my small income, but we did.  It wasn't luck though.  It was God's grace. We went through that to learn to be faithful in God's promises.  He says He'll provide..... and He did.  Why was I so worried and scared through all of that?  Because I wasn't as faithful as I should be.  Then all of this nonsense with the van.  Why was I so scared and stressed?  Because I still wasn't being as faithful as I should be.  The vehicle is up and running though and I have this visual picture of God saying, "See?  Do you get it now?  It's all gonna be fine.  Learn to trust that!" 

As with most things in life though, the only way to truly learn and understand something is to experience it.  So all of these "bad things" are simply life lessons.  Reassurance that even when everything is bad (which is just a part of life), everything will be good.  Because God is good.  That which does not kill us will only make us stronger.  Not a biblical quote, but pertains just as much as anything else.  The things we have gone through over the last several years has nothing to do with punishment or God testing us, it has to do with life lessons.  Or, at least, that's how I interpret it.  Life is short and life is good, so why worry about the small stuff?  God can and will fulfill His promises to provide if I can just get it through my thick skull.

“If life were stable, I'd never need God's help.”
― Francis Chan

Scariest Night of My Life...... so far

It was almost 9:00 pm and we were all winding down for the night.  The kids, as usual, were just as rambunctious as they were at 9:00 am though.  I was in the bedroom and Billy was in the kitchen.  The kids were in their room horse playing on the top bunk bed for those last few final minutes before we were gonna shoo them off to sleep.  All of the sudden, we heard a loud *thud* and a blood curdling scream like I've never heard come out of our children before.  I flew through my bedroom and into the hallway about the same time that Billy came running down the hallway.  All I saw was Gabe (our eldest) holding his arm at the elbow and his forearm resembling the shape of a Z. 

Billy grabbed him and held his arm against his body while I shut myself in the bedroom and dialed 911.  I couldn't even look at it, it was so terrible looking.  Other than the initial scream though, Gabe was as cool as a cucumber.  Shock, I'm sure, but his only request was that he not look at it.  I gave the 911 operator our information and headed outside to flag down the ambulance.  I could hear them in the distance as I got to the curb.

EMS and Firefighters arrived (at the delight of Brayden, our youngest) and put a cardboard box/splint around the break and carried Gabe to the ambulance.  In hindsight, we probably could have driven him ourselves, but it was the craziest thing we'd ever seen and I wasn't too keen on the idea of just casually driving to the hospital and sitting in the waiting room.  Ambulance was the most direct route.  And it worked.  Brayden stayed on the couch ooo-ing and aww-ing at all the lights from the emergency vehicles and Alyssa (our daughter, middle child) was in tears because she was scared and upset.  They were also both terrified that they were in TONS of trouble since they were the ones to push him off the bunk bed.  It was an accident though, so they got nothing more than a stern talking to.

The hospital went pretty smoothly.  We went straight back of course and he was evaluated pretty quickly.  Although I did have to roll my eyes at the nurse that asked me, "So when did the symptoms start?"  "Uh, when he hit the floor and his bones broke!"  She wasn't impressed with my tone nor my answer.  I was frazzled though, so I blame my attitude on that. 

After some morphine and x-rays, they saw that he had broken both bones in the forearm.  One a few inches above the wrist and the other a couple inches above that.  A 'very common break', or so I was told.  They decided to repair the break with a bier block and manual manipulation of the bones.  I had to leave the room because I couldn't watch my little guy go through all that, but everyone said he did pretty good.  He hollered and yelled, but I would too if you were shoving my broken bones back together.  I don't care how much pain killers I had in me.  He's currently in a splint and goes back tomorrow for his appointment with the orthopedic doctor.  Hopefully to get his hard cast on.  I'll feel MUCH better when he has his hard cast on.

I don't ever want to have to see any of my babies in pain like that again.  It was the worst, scariest night of my life..... so far.  My poor kids (especially the boys) are accident prone though.  I'm sure this won't be the last time we see the inside of the emergency room, but I sure hope it's the last time for quite awhile. 

Charged With Attempted Murder

I'm currently on house arrest due to the charge of "attempted murder".  The victim?  My mini-van.  Hence the house arrest.  Can't really go anywhere without any mode of transportation.

It was a typical Wednesday afternoon.  Nothing spectacular happening.  My brother offered to by lunch, so I figured the least I could do is drive.  The gas light was on though and I had been for awhile.  I wasn't sure if I could even make it to the gas station to fill up.  I had just cleaned out the garage though and knew that I put a gas can on the top shelf that was completely full.  That should have been plenty to get me to the gas station.....

So I poured it in the tank, we all piled into the van (my brother, all three kids and myself) and started our short journey to Sonic and then the gas station.  Less than 1/4 mile from the house though, the van sputtered, hesitated and died.  I had enough momentum to roll into a side street, then I pushed it up to the next residential block to part.  Out of gas.  Don't know how since I just put 2 gallons in it from the gas can, but alas, it wouldn't start.  So my brother started his short trek back to the house to get his car and some gas cans.

When he returned, he had a worried look on his face.  He said, "That gas can you used?  There was a slightly green puddle around it from where it dripped and the liquid smelled sweet...... like anti-freeze."  WHAT?!?  I immediately grabbed my cell phone and dialed my husband.  "Did you put anti-freeze in one of the gas cans in the garage?"  He calmly and casually said, "yes".  To which I replied, "YOU DON'T EVER PUT ANYTHING IN A GAS CAN OTHER THAN GAS!!!".  My reply was quite loud and aggressive in case you didn't catch on to that.  He hollered back at me and I told him that I had mistakenly poured the entire thing into my gas tank.

My brother had brought back two gas cans, so the theory was that we were gonna pour more gas in to dilute the anti-freeze down, start the van up, and all would be right with the world.  Everything was not right with the world.  Not only would it not start, but now everything electrical quit working.  A guy offered to jump my battery, but I explained my predicament and decided that that probably wasn't a good idea.  He agreed and drove away. 

My brother took the kids in his car and went home while I stayed with the van until my husband could get there.  Billy showed up as quick as he could and fiddled around under the hood.  Still no go.  So we called our roadside assistance for a tow.  While waiting, two more good samaritans offered their help and I had to tell them the predicament.  Then the two truck driver got there and I had to tell him what I'd done.  Then we got to the mechanic and I had to tell him what I'd done.  Nothing like having to repeatedly tell strangers all about your stupid mistake.  *sigh*

As of date, the van is still sitting at the mechanic.  Waiting on a fuel pump.  The theory is that anti-freeze is denser than gasoline, it'll sink to the bottom of the gas tanks, they'll drain it all out, flush the lines, replace the fuel pump and everything will be fine.  Hopefully the power issue is just simply a safety feature on the car and once they hit "reset" on the computer, she'll come back to life.  Only time will tell though.

So in the meantime, I sit here, anxious and embarrassed.  Charged with attempted murder of our lovely family mini-van.  The sentence?  House arrest and fines (ie: a steep mechanic bill that can only go up from here). 

Transitioning and Finding a Balance

A year ago, I was enjoying the summer break with the kids.  At least, in hindsight, that's what I think I was doing.  At the time though, I'm sure I was already counting down the days until school started again and whining to B.K. about how useless and unaccomplished I felt.  All those years of being a stay-at-home mom, I couldn't wait for the weekends so that I could go hang out with friends.  I longed to go back to work so that I could make new friends and get out of the house a bit.

Now, I'm enjoying the summer break with the kids.  There is no counting down to school though.  Not in the happy, can't-wait-for-it-to-get-here sense anyway.  Because now, I am working, making new friends and getting out of the house.  The problem is, I'm out of the house every single weekday.  Work, work, work.  It seems like that's all I do now.  And although I enjoy my job and I adore the people I work with, I miss my family.

I miss all three kids crawling into bed with me and we all lay around to watch cartoons until 10:00.  I miss welcoming B.K. home after a long days work.  I miss going to the park early in the morning and playing in the sprinklers later in the afternoon.  I miss laying in bed late at night talking to B.K. about all of our future plans.  I miss all that stuff.  Because now all I do is want to go straight to bed at 8:00 o'clock because I have to be at work by 5:00am.  I took it for granted when I had the opportunity to do all those things and now I'm kicking myself.

But the other crappy part is that I've been neglecting my friendships.  Not on purpose per se, but my priorities have shifted.  Where I used to look forward to hanging out with friends on the weekend, now the weekends are the only time I get to hang out with my family.  After missing them all week long, I feel selfish saying, "Sorry kids, no time to watch movies or go to the park.  I'm going to hang out with so-and-so instead."  But then I feel selfish telling my friends, "Sorry, I can't have lunch with you, because I'm hanging out with my family all day".  I just can't seem to find that balance between work, family and friends.  Family is ALWAYS #1 in my book, but I have to shelf all of my friendships in the process?  Surely that's not right.  But how do I balance?  How do I work long hours 5 days a week, spend time with my family AND make the time to grow those friendships? 

Anybody got an answer?  Anyone?  No, I didn't think so.  Trial and error, I suppose.  I just have to keep transitioning into this part of our journey and find that balance.

The Epic Debate Continues: Stay-At-Home vs Working Mom

We hear about the "war" all the time between mothers.  Which is harder, better, smarter and more fulfilling -   staying at home full-time to tend to the family or raising a family while also working outside of the home?  Women battle about it daily at PTO meetings, while gossiping on the front porch with friends, while sitting in the office with coworkers or while debating about it online.  Everyone has their opinion about which one is "right".

I couldn't care less what other people think is right.  What's best for one family is not what is best for another.  And both situations have their pros and cons; struggles and strengths.  Both have the potential to be very fulfilling.  I've done both.  I worked for several years, stayed home for several years and am back to working again.  My 'epic debate' is not with others - it is with myself.

It never fails.  When I'm a stay-at-home mom, I think of all the reasons why I'd like to return to work.  I'd like to contribute more money to the family, I'd like to have the opportunity to meet new friends, I'd like some me time away from everyone, etc, etc.  When I'm working outside the home though, I think of all the reasons why I'd like to stay home.  I'd save tons of money on gas/daycare, I'd have the opportunity to be much more involved with the kids' school life, I'd have some time away from everyone to do things that I like to do, etc, etc.  The pros and cons seem to stack up evenly each time. 

How does one decide?  When you have a firm grasp on what both lifestyles are like, but the pros and cons come out even every time, how do you choose?  How do I know what is "right"?  Maybe it's not about what's right or what's better or what's more fulfilling.  Maybe it's about just trusting my gut and doing what feels right rather than what looks good on paper. 

I'll have to get back to this one.  For now, the epic debate continues......

Optimistic Me

I take back what I said in my last post.  About there "not really being any reason not to be pleasant".  When I refer to myself as an optimistic person, it has nothing to do with my life being sunshine and rainbows all the time.  I'm sure most people could find it pretty easy to be optimistic when things are good.  So let me assure you that my life is not sunshine and rainbows all the time.  I actually have lots of reasons to not be pleasant.  I'll spare you and not make an actual list though.

If my life were easy and picture perfect, I wouldn't be optimistic.  At least, not in my head.  Optimism, to me, is finding the good in even the worst of situations.  So if everything was going perfectly, it wouldn't really be optimism that I had.  It'd be contentment.  I don't want to be just content.  I want to have life experiences that make me a better person and help me to grow.  I'm a firm believer that I learn more through trials and tribulations than I do if I were just coasting along and everything was peachy.  But optimism means I don't allow myself to be beaten down by those trials and tribulations.  Rather than being consumed by the 'bad' of any given situation, I focus on the light at the end of the tunnel and the fact that I'll be a better person by the time all is said and done.  I don't want to come out the other side of a situation with nothing but bitterness, anger and regret.  That's not gonna do me any good.  But if I come out the other side of a situation with knowledge and experience for the future..... then I'm a-ok. 

I have lots of things in my life that could make me feel justified in being an unpleasant person or being pessimistic.  I could sit around and wait for the other shoe to drop, because in my experience, it always does.....but I choose not to.  That is Optimistic Me.