The Chaos Continues

I had full intensions of updating everyone on my summer activities. I knew my summer was going to be full, but I had a lot of plans. Read, for fun, not for class. Study French, because I have one more year of classes to take and I am very rusty. Finish Book 2: Ethrelguard. Start planning for the release of the Mandate. Study for the GRE. How much of that did I get done? About half, and I mean half of each project.

I knew my summer would be busy, I already said that. But. I was not expecting to be out of town every other weekend, which is basically what happened. First, we went as a family to a reunion and dropped of J1 and J2 with my parents. A couple weeks later, I traveled with J3 to another reunion. A couple of weeks later, my in-laws came to visit. Then my parents came down with J1 and J2 and sent them on their way with the in-laws. I didn’t even get 24 hours with my children. I cried. They had a hard time with it as well. After that was the St. Louis conference. I was exhausted. The theme was racism and reconciliation and over the course of three days I realized how much worse the problem is. So much traveling, so many hours in the car. I needed down time. My writing suffered. Naps were high on the priority list. Finally, there was the WordPress conference, which pushed back our last vacation of the summer by three days. We literally left right after the conference for a twelve hour drive to the in-laws for a four day vacation and to pick up the boys.

Now, we have been home for about three days. I am making sure we have appointments to various doctors and dentists. We need to start getting ready for the school year. New backpacks and school supplies need to be purchased. The boys have tried on their clothes from last year and they have each grown a size or two.

As I write this, J2 is telling me about his robot, J1 is playing Legos and already complaining that J3 won’t leave him alone. I have figured out a couple of things. First, I love the chaos of the normal day. I love having too many things to do and my writing thrives off the fact that I leave my house to work and to get away for a break. Second, I am not able to work on a schedule, to have hourly or even daily things to do. I am envious of people who can. I stayed at home for years with the children and still cannot figure out how my husband gets the entire house clean on Saturday when he is watching the children and yet I could not despite having five days to get it done.

This is actually my last blog post here. Come check me out at eschierschmidt.wordpress.com as I continue this journey into something new.

E. Schierschmidt

A 2017 Plan

            I realize this is coming a little late, but it is because I had other things I wanted to talk about before discussing my resolution plans. To be honest, these aren’t really New Year’s resolution plans. My husband and I sat down and discussed what we had discussed last year. We decided what worked and what didn’t work.

            We discussed how over the year some of our ideas, like a date night, turned into something new, like marriage counseling. This was a welcomed change. We are not having marriage trouble, but marriage is hard and we want ours to last. We discussed what didn’t work. He wanted to work on making YouTube videos but other things came up that were more important to him. Family days failed because I needed more time to study. Of course, at the beginning of last year we had not planned on me going to school. We had not considered that I would receive a publishing contract. These change time priorities. However, we still didn’t want to lose family time. We needed to find a way to make that a priority for 2017.

            We sat down and considered what our desires were and which ones we could make a priority for the New Year. The list is as follows:

• ·         Spiritual Devotion (family, personal, couple)
• ·         Homework with J1
• ·         Minimalize our house
• ·         Personal time for my husband
• ·         Personal for me
• ·         A summer trip to visit his parents
• ·         Reunion trip to visit my family
• ·         Watch Cars 3 in the theater
• ·         Weekend Getaway

            Some of these are already behind due to J3 having to visit the hospital again. Fortunately, when we discussed these plans we were not forceful that it had to be done every day. We knew things would come up that we could not control.

            We created a schedule, but again, it was not written in stone and if it was it included a side note that things would come up and that would be fine. Our weekly schedule, at least through the fall semester, is as follows:

·         Sunday: Family days

-        Games, movies, outdoors

-        Family devotionals that included the kids

·         Monday:

-        In house homework for me

-        I help J1 with homework

·         Tuesday:

-        Out of the house writing

-        Hubby helps J1 with homework

·         Wednesday:

-        In house homework for me

-        I help J1 with homework

·         Thursday:

-        Out of the house writing

-        Hubby helps J1 with homework

·         Friday:

-        First Friday of the month is Marriage Counseling

-        Forth Friday is a Skype Critique (Writing/Editing)

·         Saturday:

-        Second Saturday is Skype Critique (Writing/Editing)

-        Homework days for me

            Looking at the goals from 2016 and making an honest assessment of them allowed us to judge what we were proud of or disappointed by. We discussed the obstacles that had appeared over the year that forced a change to our original plans. We chose the things that we wanted to accomplish this year, even simple things like seeing a movie at the theater. Now, we have a new plan for this year. Can’t wait to see how we feel about it in 2018.

Because They Love Me

            I hope you have read the posts for palliative care since this is a continuation from the other side. I have written about the diagnosis and hospitalization of J3, part of the story anyway. I have mentioned that while my focus was completely on J3, there is a J1 and J2 at home, who are being cared for by Nana, my mother. I am ashamed that during this trying time they were not on my mind as much as I feel they should have been. I am ashamed that although I left them in the care of my mother, they were not my main concern. I am even more ashamed that during all of this time I was inattentive to what my husband was going through. This post is retrospective from the pieces I collected after the ordeal was ending.

            My husband and I knew J3 was going to need surgery and the time was quickly approaching, but we were unprepared for the day when the hospital called and told us to bring him in. My mother, who had already agreed to care for the children while we were at the hospital was on vacation when we got the call. She had two days to get home, do laundry, and repack for an undetermined amount of time. I can say now that it was a blessing that she retired right before J3 was born. I’m not sure what we would have done otherwise. Unfortunately, we had to leave for the hospital before she could make it down to be with the boys. The time gap was about six hours, which turned into eight due to bad weather. Thankfully, a friend the boys love and trusted was willing and able to watch J1 and J2 during this time.

            At first, the boys were thrilled to have Nana replace Mommy and Daddy. No doubt plenty of rules were broken during this time. It took about a week and a half before J1 refused to talk to me on the phone. Even when we Skyped, he refused to look at me pretending I wasn’t on the screen. I know this behavior, it is a self-defense mechanism to protect ones-self from being hurt. J2 was not as bad.

            At week three, I was able to come home and visit for the weekend. J3 was doing well and I felt confident in my leaving him. I knew I was only getting two days with the boys and I made the most out of it. Donuts for breakfast, the park, our favorite fast food place, a few errands and an evening at home before church and now I have to leave. The change was immediate, before I even left the house they knew. J1 shut down unwilling to even say goodbye. J2 threw a fit that was just the beginning of his aggressive behavior to follow for the next four weeks.

            I didn’t fault either of them. J1 was in a self-defense mode. J2 was attempting to exert what little control he had over his life. But I didn’t really have to deal with this behavior, my mother did.

            Nana was a hard woman to grow up with, mainly because of her authoritarian parenting style, and my transference issues. She knew me and I knew she could handle anything that had to be thrown at her. I didn’t bat an eye at the idea of her taking over my household. However, she was sixty-three and suddenly thrusted into a situation where she had to be a single parent. Sure, my husband was home during the weeks we didn’t have major issues going on, but he spent most of that time working. Yes, he spent a couple of hours at night playing with the boys, reading and putting them to bed, but I have no doubt that my mother still fed and bathed them at night. After they went to bed, I am sure that my husband turned to his computer for a self-soothing evening. Neither of us really thought about how she was doing.

            My mother would later tell me that the situation was isolating. She got little sleep. One night J2 had crawled under her bed to sleep and she was unable to find him. Her stress level was through the roof. She didn’t have the team of pastors or social workers to help her through a meltdown. Yes, people visited and brought food, but it isn’t the same as having a break. Thankfully, one of the women at church was able to get two extra car seats through a program at the local police station for her so that she could leave the house.

            I felt bad for them, all three of them, but only after I was already home and knew everything was fine. Still, there is one person who through all of this suffered right beside me. Stood as a rock and did not falter until I accused him of moving on without me. He continued watching our shows without me there. He played games every night he was at home sleeping in a comfortable bed. He eked by with what support he had and broke down only when no one was watching. He suffered right beside me and I was oblivious to it because I was wrapped up in my own pain. He did this because he loved me.

            My husband suffered in silence because he loved me. My mother suffered in silence because she loved me. My father suffered in silence because he loved me even to the point of taking a three day vacation to drive up to give me a hug, say hi to the latest grandbaby, and visit his wife and other grandsons. J1 did his best to protect himself from a new sense of loss because he feared losing me, because he loved me. J2 became self-asserted and demanding, because he was thrust into a new situation where I was not a part of his world and he needed to feel some sort of control on his life. I would like to think that he did this because I taught him to be self-sufficient, because he loved me and knew this is what I would want. I am allowed a level of self-delusion.

            It wasn’t until everything was fine in my world before I opened up to see how everyone else had weathered. It was an introspective moment that pointed to my selfishness. All because they loved me.

Baptism

            This past Sunday, my three sons were baptized. Not at all J3s decision, although when asked he did answer, “Yeah.” And I am fairly curtain that J1 only agreed to it because J2 was going to have it done.

            What started this event occurred Christmas Eve 2015. I stood up, leaving my sons with my parents and proceeded to partake in communion. The fact that J2 was left out of something, obviously important to a large portion of the church, deeply upset him. This, I was already prepared for. I used this opportunity to discuss baptism with my son.

            It went something like this:

                            

Me: Sweetie, it is not right to take communion without being baptized.

J2: I’m a big boy, I want to be baptized.

Me: Sweetie, choosing to be baptized is a big decision. It means that you understand that Jesus loves you and choosing to love Jesus. It means that you are going to try to be a good person and walk the path Jesus would have you walk.

J2: I’m a good boy. I love Jesus. Jesus loves me. Also, He made the worms.

Me: Okay, well, let me talk to Daddy about it.

            And I did. We waited a couple of weeks to see what would happen. Then one morning as we were getting ready for church J1 and J2 come in. J2 asks if they can be baptized. J1 simply nods his consent to wanting an answer to the question. Once again I explain that it is a big decision and that they need to be sure. J2 was jumping up and down as if my answer had been yes and he was ecstatic. I did the next thing I could think of. I made an appointment for our family to talk to our pastors. The resulting decision was that all three of our boys would be baptized together. The baptism was still weeks out and without fail, every Sunday, J1 or J2 would eventually ask if today was the day.

            Finally, the day came. Mother-in-law had already arrived. We went through an early morning rehearsal. I had explained, multiple times, the schedule for the day. Everything is going smoothly, at least, as smoothly as it ever does. J2 was running around, not loudly, but out of reach for me to be able to stop him. This is a new behavior that I have not yet figured out how to negotiate.

            Then children’s time occurs. This is the point where all the children sit in the front of the sanctuary and have the sermon explained to them in terms they can understand. J2 uses this time to crawl around and under the communion table. Usually, it is after this that the boys go down to the nursery and play. Not today though. This leads to the first melt down. J1 begins to cry. I carry him to the back and explain that because he is being baptized today he cannot go to the nursery. I add that if he would rather not be baptized I would take him to nursery. No harm. No foul.

            No, he wants to be baptized.

            As we return to the pews, I find J2 sitting as far away from everyone as he can get. This of course gives me easy access to him and I take the moment to pull him into the back as well. This conversation is a little different. I take him all the way to the back, through the choir room, and into a bathroom. I expect that a spanking is coming and a resulting screech of outrage to proceed.

           

Me: We talked about this last week and you are too old to roam around and cause mischief. I will not have it. Do you understand me?

           

J2: Now covering his backside, knowing that I am unhappy and that he knows better and deserves a spanking. Doesn’t actually say anything. He simply nods.

           

Me: Good, then you will return to the pew and sit down and behave or we will be back in the bathroom and you will receive a spanking. Do you hear me?

J2: Another nod.

            The culmination of our day arrives as the five of us are standing around the baptismal font with our pastors, an elder of the church whose family means a lot to me, and the children of our church. One woman is taking pictures for her mom who could not be present. Another is taking pictures to be helpful. As well as my mother-in-law, who is taking videos for my father-in-law, who could not be there either. Of course that is not the circus I am watching.

            I am watching J2 play in the water and then wipe his hands off on my backside. For whatever reason the decision was made to baptize J2 first. I didn’t even get to enjoy the moment as I see another melt down pushing the edge of J1s sanity. J1 realizes that the pastor is going to pour water on his head. He quietly removes his hand from the font and backs up beginning to shake his head.

            “I don’t want to do this.” He says in such a quiet voice that I am the only one who hears him.

            I reach out to grab his arm doing my best to get hubby to take J3 who I have been bouncing in my arms as he has already signed many times that he is done. Hubby takes J3. I lift J2 into my arms and hand him off to the pastor, who is already noticing the issue. Our other pastor steps in to attempt to keep him as dry as possible and to J1s everlasting credit his melt down is silent. He is passed off to the other pastor who is doing her best to dry and comfort him. My focus is on J1 and wanting so much to hold him and tell him how proud of him I am that I miss J3s baptism as well.

            This ends with the boys being lead around the church. J3 leads the procession in the arms of the pastor. J2 is waving to people smiling. I still have no idea what was going on through his mind. J1 is desperately holding onto my hand still patting his head from time to time to see if there is any water left.

            At the time, I was just so relieved that things went as smoothly as they did. Now, I can reflect on the idea that every year we can celebrate their adoption into an endless family of brothers and sisters.