Harder than I thought...

So...some stuff has happened. A lot of stuff actually. The year is...2017. What? How the h- ? What the f... Pardon my censored shock and horror.
This was the year! The year the oldest daughter graduated from high school! Yes, I remember, there is one older and we did this 4 years ago. But this is The girl! The golden one, the best friend from birth. I thought her graduation and leaving for College (which happens in 3 days) was going to be the biggest thing for me to deal with and adjust to this year. WRONG... I will go back at some point and revisit her awesomeness and success, and some not so awesome moments, at a later time, (according to my track record it could be years from now.) This momentous year was, however, trumped by the middle child's diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes. The story of his diagnosis is one I will also have to hash out in another post, it's a hard one. Right now I must vent. I have not yet dealt with the post-trauma that often occurs in the aftermath of an emergency. The tears are always just below the surface. I keep shoving that cork farther into the 'feelings bottle'. In part, because I'm afraid that once the crying starts it won't stop; also, because the crisis really isn't over.  
Shortly after diagnosis someone made a comment that it wasn't a death sentence. They have 2 adult kids with T1 so I'm sure they know. "That's true," I thought, "BUT, it is a life sentence."
I know quite a few people with children that have T1, but I still feel completely alone in this. It's like I can see other people swimming and treading water near me but my head isn't bobbing above the surface of the water yet.
We were in Denver at the Barbra Davis Center for Childhood Diabetes, and they educated us pretty well. There is a ton of information and resources online, which I'm grateful for, but it almost feels like too much and not enough at the same time.
Here's what I have gathered so far: 1.treating Type 1 diabetes is a guessing game.  2. No two bodies are the same. 3. Hormones are a pain in the... 4. T1 boys + pubescent hormones is even worse (stone cold, won't talk, won't eat= contention) 5. I don't have my crap together. oh, and 6. Life flights and hospital bills are really expensive. 7. this sucks.
I hate watching my kids struggle. Especially when I'm no farther ahead than they are. I hope the blind really can lead the blind.

WTFlip

I haven't blogged since 2011. The format has changed and after typing for a good 5 mins I hit something and lost all that I put. That was fun.
Facebook took over and the ability to post and instantly have feedback on your life and cleverness appealed to the masses. Then everyone shared so much of their own lives all the time, there was nothing original left to post and so they started sharing other peoples ideas, pics and memes. While I enjoyed catching up and learning what was going on in everyone's lives. I am bored with this lack of originality that is afoot.
Raising teenagers and young adult type people is far more emotionally exhausting than caring for the physical needs they had as babies and toddlers.
With babies and toddlers, there was a nice peaceful lull after they were put in bed and the calmness of the night settled in. With teens and semi-adult-ish people the concern and mental exhaustion continues through the night and transforms into worry and stress. Remember the old joke about giving your kids years worth of material for the mental health professionals? yeah...that.
It's not that being in this next section of life isn't entertaining. We have inside jokes. laughing fits, sentimental moments. Great talks and time to share. It's just different now because they all have opinions. And they are fully capable of sharing those opinions...
I need to continue to expunge the stuff in my brain. I have needed to for a long while. It's just that it's not all entertaining all the time anymore. Scenarios are of a more serious nature now. hearts are more tender, life more serious.
I'm grateful for what I have written in the past. Those memories were priceless. I'm not a great family historian, therefore, I would not have had those stories if I hadn't decided to write a silly little blog.

Well that was embarrassing! That last entry, anyway. but hey, what's the point in writing anything if we have to filter, right? at least it got me going again.

The kids have 2 and 1/2 days of school left...Then what? I dunno but I'm betting it's gonna get a lot louder around here.
We finally had family pictures done. I was accosted by some guy in "P$*^#@" (one of the stores that I hate and refuse to give credit to) with a flyer and the words come get a family portrait done for $10 plus a $5 sitting fee. I seriously said "what the h*ll, we haven't intentionally taken a picture of all of us since Jacob was 5 months old...sign me up" The guy looked at the two kids I had with me, and said "so it's these two plus mom and dad?" (chuckle, chuckle.)me "No, there's 7 kids." him "7? so that makes..." me "9 people total, is that a problem?" him "Uh, no. 9 is fine, we just get to charge more for 12." ...?...?... me thinking (so...why did you tell me that...sorry to disappoint, I suppose I could go find 3 more people so that you could make an extra 5 bucks.) me "So, we're good?" him "yep, and don't forget to leave your animals at home." me "well crap, that's half my kids."

I'm really grateful that I started writing this blog when I did. There is definitely something special that surrounds that time of life when all your kids are babies and you think that diapers will rule your existence forever. Humor can be found at every turn and sanity hangs on the finest thread. And then you shut your eyes and it's over. There hasn't been a diaper found in my house for almost a year now. I only had 2 kids at home this school year. and next it will be only one. I'm trepidatious about only having Ellie at home. In part because having one means that I will become the entertainer again. I like it when there are more kids at home because they play with each other. One good thing about Ellie is that she's a sleeper. So I guess after getting the other 6 off to school, maybe I'll get to go back to sleep every once in a while.
Something happened when I moved here. It's been a gradual change. I'm not sure what all has contributed to it. Perhaps it's circumstantial, perhaps physiological. probably a little of both. My steadfastness in life has begun to wavier. My contentedness to sit and just be has faded. I don't feel the strength and commitment to the ties that are my life. And I hate it. I hate feeling unrest. I hate feeling like I have to accept things the way they are because "that's how it is". And I hate my husbands job. because I'm lonely. ans I have no control or power over that. So I am forced to be in this situation and just be... and just feel and just deal. Yes, I am grateful for good employment, for financial security. I'm not stupid. I do not, however, like being presented with the argument of "sure we could find a different job, but it will financially ruin us" and having grown up in poverty, you know darn well that I would never conscientiously allow someone to go through that. So it doesn't matter, that I'm frustrated, lonely, wavering, tired. and giving up on "all that is holy" so to speak...I still have to put up and shut up, for the good of the masses. AND we are STUCK in this lonely little town, at least until the oldest graduates, so that we don't ruin his life. I'm just frustrated. I shouldn't be writing right now. Nothing is funny. Actually it's just crap.
I miss my friends. I miss my stupid husband. I miss babies and that feeling of being stuck and belonging, in a good way. I miss my faith. and the "everything's black and white" perspective. Everything is NOT black and white. anyone who thinks it is, is a fool. I guess it's just my time to learn about all that grey. I'm not a super fan of grey. But guess what...grey is the space between black and white, being there doesn't determine which color you're headed toward, you're just there. without grey there isn't hope. and I don't want to be a part of a life that doesn't hold hope for everyone.

So, Jacob just came out of the bath wrapped in a towel, walked into the kitchen and over to me at the table, (where I sat, beginning to type something on this empty page.) He tripped over the leg of the chair and caught himself on the table, almost with his head. The first thing out of his mouth was "It's a good thing we put this table here, otherwise I could have fallen and cracked my head on the floor." Man, I love that positive thinking child, he may save me yet. 8 out 9 people (in my house) would have complained about the placement of the chairs and table because if they weren't there, we wouldn't have tripped. But, not Jacob...
I've missed writing. Well, maybe it's not the writing as much as it is the altered perspective of looking for something to write about when going about my day. It's one thing to go about wandering from chore to chore, or activity to activity, and just doing it to get it done (or not). It's an entirely different thing going through the day finding chaos and saying, this would make a great story. It changed my whole outlook. I miss that about myself. I've been on vacation for a while...from normal things anyway. I had the opportunity to play the character of *Milly* in "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers". It was a wonderful experience. To be honest there wasn't one second of the rehearsals or performances that I didn't absolutely love. For the last 13 years I have been content to say, "I can direct. I'm fine organizing and putting stuff together and making stuff up and directing everybody else..." but guess what, I'm an actor. Plain and simple. Well, OK maybe not so plain and simple (if you're my husband). Jason came to a rehearsal one night and commented that he hadn't seen "that girl" since before we got married...My only explanation is that I was doing what I love to do. Not only that but I am an extremely social creature. So, being with a bunch of people that feel the same way about performing and music and being "social" was refreshing to my soul.
The following question has arisen more than once in my life. "Why do you do what you do?" as far as performing goes..."I don't get it." this usually comes from the more logically left brained people. They don't understand the weeks and days and hours of preparation, for what turns out to be 2 or 3 performances of a 2 hour show. The time ratio is comparable to preparing a solo or musical number. Hours of practice for 3 to 5 minutes of song. I've questioned this a few times myself. And in the last week I have culminated years worth of tiny answers into one giant explanation. and here it is... First the explanation of why the time for preparation. When I first started performing, I used to practice just so I didn't look like an idiot. I didn't want to be judged for doing a *bad* job. I was concerned for what people thought of me. This was how it was for years. then something happened as I focused all of my attention on just singing; for church, firesides, and conferences. I started to realize the importance of being as prepared as I could possibly be so that I, as a performer, would not be seen. I wanted to be a messenger. A doorway, not a road block. If my performance was the best I could make it, I would not get in the way of the Spirit. Make sense? Does to me, guess that's all that matters. When I started to sing with the Museum Singers, (that's the 12 piece ladies group that I have been with for a year and a half) We didn't sing sacred music. and I got confused. Asking questions such as "why am I doing this?" (other than to get out of the house once a week) "Belonging" to the Washakie Museum is not always an artists dream come true. They are out to make money. I get it. But I am volunteering my time and talents. This is not something that I do lightly. While my issues with them and the *way they do things* could write a post of its own I choose not to continue 'cause that's not where I was headed. Back to the whole Singers thing. I learned that while I wasn't just singing sacred/gospel focused music, I was enjoying the music I singing and I enjoyed the company I kept. It was nice to be surrounded by women of many Faiths. To realize that they had love and respect for our Father in Heaven and Jesus Christ, like I did. So, that helped me grow. and I was singing and my voice was growing. Good stuff.
Then came along 7B47B. as it became fondly known to us. I have never done a full scale musical, let alone been the lead. I jumped in with both feet, hands, head and heart and gave it all I had. And it worked. It was great. I fell in love with acting again. and guess what? it's SO much easier now. I'm not afraid. I don't get nervous anymore. I feel more confident in so many ways. Mostly because I have learned that real life is way bigger than what the guy in the 3rd row thought of my performance. All of that learned made it a pleasurable experience. Now, to the question of "What does it Matter?"
I had a lady come up to me the day after she saw the show and she said to me "I went away a better person for seeing that show. It was very uplifting." and that was the answer. If I can "serve" people by doing what I love and have a passion for, isn't that enough? If I can help you escape, or dream, or smile, or cry, or connect with some sort of emotion that you haven't felt in forever, isn't that enough? If I put hours of time and effort in to preparing something so that for just a little while you can feel again, in a safe environment, isn't that enough? It's like therapy without you having to air your dirty laundry. And that's what it is...
Now there is another side to the right brained creative thinkers. The key is in those last three words I just typed. Creative or Create. God (the Creator) gave us the opportunity to come to Earth to learn explore and Create for ourselves. He didn't finish everything for us. Every time I sing, draw, paint, act, play the piano, play with the kids, I am creating. Even if it is repeating something over and over. No note is ever played or sung, and no line is ever delivered EXACTLY the same, it all gets created over again, it's a beautiful thought. It's the next best thing to creating little bodies for those little spirits to come and live in. If you're not familiar with LDS lingo, It's the next best thing to having kids. Which in itself is the most "God like" thing we can do on Earth. Create something out of practically nothing. How cool is that. So, in our natural design to be more like our Father in Heaven, we long to create, well, some of us do anyway. I filled that need for about 16 years, creating little people. That time had passed. my need to create wasn't being filled as drastically as it had been and I felt useless. Until I figured out all of that stuff up there. I don't feel the need to defend myself as a performer any more. God did not give me the talents he did for nothing. They are purposeful, and wonderful and I am grateful. whether everybody "gets it" or not.

So I had parent teacher conferences this last week. For most of the kids anyway. I don't know if they had any at the high school. HOWEVER, for the other 4 kids in school, these were the best meetings I have ever had with teachers, EVER. Not one negative thing. Everyone is doing fabulously. Everyone is extremely conscientious, and kind to others. Organized and responsible. AND super smart... I tell you after I talked to Jacobs teacher I almost cried. I have been "fighting" with Spencer's teachers for 10 years now and I was afraid that was normal. Until Sariah started school and they said she was perfect. I thought she was the oddball out. Not true! the rest of my kids have turned out to be great in school too! It makes me feel such... relief. You know how you wonder if you're messing up your kids because of your own insecurities and failings and whatever else, mainly because they behave like heathens at home?(maybe that's just me)...But then you find out that they really are OK, not just OK but excelling! Sigh, what a relief. Now if we can just get them to be that way at home....

So...Caleb looked at my hair a week or so ago and said to my husband, "Mom's turning into a grandma." That was it! I broke out the hair dye again.
I don't enjoy dying my hair so much anymore. It used to be fun, now it's kind of a chore. I don't have a choice though. It's either dye it or look like a 35yold grandma... So for those of you who have been blessed with the opportunity to have and keep your natural color...feel grateful and enjoy!
So I got the kids' school pictures...I put them on Facebook but since my husband still refuses to get an account, he has to see them here. They all turned out pretty good. I still don't know what's up with Caleb's hair, but everybody needs a school picture with messed up hair. And I see braces in the future for some of our kids, but for now let them be kids...snotty noses, messy hair and all that, because all too soon it will be over, they will be grown ...the last picture is proof of that.Jacob 5Caleb 7Gabriel 9Sariah 11Spencer 15