At Least There's Only One First Time.....

This morning I had to take Beanie (girl, 7) to Children's Hospital for an eye appointment.  She was born cross-eyed and wore glasses from about 8 mos until last year (she's getting them again, but that's another story).  The doctor we see is with one of the most noteworthy pediatric ophthalmology practices in the region.  We started out at the office a few blocks away, but our doctor stopped working in that office.  We decided to follow her out to another office about an hour away.  The last time we went there for a full appointment with refraction, though, we were gone for five hours.  That's a bit much with three young children.  So we decided to see her at the hospital instead, which is about 20 minutes away.  Our first appointment there was today.

Background notes:  (1) I hate driving, (2) I could get lost in my backyard, (3) I have panic attacks, (4) I often have panic attacks while lost and driving.

For whatever reason, traffic was backed up on the highway after rush hour.  They closed another major E-W highway that goes downtown this month, so everything's a mess.  We barely got there on time.  Husband said "oh, just valet, it's so much easier!" Well, apparently, the 30 other parents running late that day had the same idea.  I ended up having to loop back around a few times, which made us about 15 minutes late.  Finally, I turn in the garage next door and start flying up the ramps, which are barely wide enough for a tricycle, let alone a minivan.  I'm hitting curbs everywhere and start screaming, crying, and cursing (in no particular order).

Beanie started talking and I told (screamed at, really) her that she needed to be quiet because I couldn't think straight. Then came the breathing trouble.  We finally got to a spot.  She says "Do you have your inhaler with you?"  I told her I did.  We parked, I called the doctor's office and asked for directions from the structure.  When I was done, I apologized for yelling at her.  She said "I forgive you, Mom.  I know how hard it is to be nervous."  I was dumbfounded.  I started to feel embarassed- maybe even ashamed that I required reassurance from a seven year old. 

That's when I realized that she wasn't a little kid anymore; I mean, I still have to remind her to wash her hands after picking her nose and stuff, but she gets me.  I don't have to refer her to my 12,957 manual pages.  She doesn't look at me like I'm crazy when I laugh hysterically when I hear the word "poop (yep, laughing hysterically)."  I don't have to ask for hugs, personal space, validation, or a tissue.  She's right there.  Every time.  And I have to explain anything to her.  She gets me.  And.... she loves me anyway.  So mostly, this post is for purposes of record for next time I want to move her bedroom to the garage because it's a fire hazard.

The First Drama at the New Church

Those that know me personally know that we left our church of seven years this past fall.  Although I love the pastor, I had some serious issues with the children's worship director that I was unable to accept; the situation was exacerbated when she yelled at me for a decision I made regarding my children.  The class times for kids were very inconvenient.  In addition, she is very impatient with children that don't fit the proverbial mold.  Further, the choir.... was not good.  I was frustrated with the quality of musicianship of the other singers and the lack of ambition on the part of the music minister.  So we said goodbye.

The new church is much better in all respects.  The pastor is great with kids and is very friendly.  Also, the children's program director is b e y o n d  patient, having had a couple of more high maintenance children herself.

So, why the drama?  Well, there was a woman in choir last Thursday that basically went off on me because another lady yelled at her and accused her of wearing perfume.  Huh?  I'm really sensitive to strong smells.  When my allergies are acting up,  I lose my voice quickly when exposed.  In extreme cases, I can have an asthma attack.  So I started having a heck of a time at rehearsal (which is the worst place to wear smelly goop; everyone breathes deeply and stands in close proximity, so irritants have a much more pronounced impact.  Anyway, I had to move and sit really far away.  The lady sitting next to me (let's call her Shirley) yells at another lady (how about Dolores?) for wearing perfume and making me lose my voice (Shirley does not read music and doesn't do too well without someone bellowing into her ear).  Dolores spins on her heel and tells me I ought to use my rescue inhaler and that I can't expect everyone to stop wearing perfume.  If that's my attitude I am in the wrong place.  I was dumbfounded.  I didn't even say a word!  Shirley decided to crusade on my behalf.  Apparently, Dolores works with a woman who has a hissy fit when she smells even unscented hand sanitizer.  Dolores then tersely informed me that she herself has leukemia and has to sanitize her hands constantly and the coworker yells at her and complains to the boss all the time.

I was so upset from being yelled at for something I didn't do that I cried all the way home and told Husband I was quitting.  I felt so sorry for myself that I was miserable for another day and a half.  So once I was done blubbering like an idiot, I prayed for her.  I imagined how difficult it must be for her to be sick.  I also thought it must upset her to be yelled at for something that is beyond her control.  And, yes, she turned around and did the same thing to me.  And you know what?  I let it go.  At least, I let it go as much as I can.  It'll take me a week or so to let it pass completely, but over and over in my head echoed this verse from Galatians:


"For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ."  –Galatians 1:10

Better late than never?  Good things come to those who wait?  Yeah, I have nothing original for you.  Suffices to say that 2013 was the craziest year to date for my family.  That's saying a lot.  Whoa.  Backing it up.... my last posts were zoo drama and me being irritated about people giving my daughter the stink eye.  So here's a little bit of what we've been up to in the past year and half (ouch):

• 2 surgeries
• Beanie's (girl, 7) school closing
• Beanie's new school not being a good fit
• ADHD diagnosis for Beanie
• Finally opted to homeschool Beanie (1st grade)
• 25% of the way through an M.A. in Education
• Nosy neighbors calling the authorities on us, prompting a series of investigations
• Hot water heater dies in the middle of January

Yeah, um... It kind of sucked.  Here are a few things I've figured out (the hard way), though (Note: I do not like ending sentences with prepositions, but "out which I've figured" sounds infinitely stupid) (Yes, I like parentheticals):

1. We're still here, stronger than ever
2. Sitting on my butt for everyone's school means I have to eat better
3. All of my children are not required by law to go to the same school; each child is different and has different needs
4. At least I had heat when I had no hot water
5. At least we had the money (read: plastic) to buy a new hot water heater
6. We know who we are; the opinions of nosy neighbors are only as relevant as I permit them to be
7. I have one judge, and it is not anyone I meet at Target, school, or driving on the freeway
8. It's better to pray for (as sincerely as I can muster) the nosy neighbors and other metiches I meet that judge me than to take it to heart (see also #7)
9. Nothing is permanent
10. Everything happens for a reason; it's all part of The Plan
11. Clearly, I am not God, so it is not my place to always know The Plan
12. Happiness is a state of mind (happiness is also yelling BINGO!)
13. Breathe

So my words are as pointed as ever.  My facial expressions are still entirely readable and profoundly silly.  I've got a little less attitude and a little opener (that really should be an adjective) heart.  This should be interesting.....

-rock