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Kristen is a home­maker, home­schooler, and a home­keeper. Her experience includes nineteen years of practice, raising three kids, a husband, and a dog. Writing about her life helps her stay sane. She believes that sharing stories helps others by providing opportunities to share advice (and helpful hints) about homeschooling, and raising kids on the autism spectrum, while supporting marriages and families that are striving to thrive.

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We're All a Little Mad Here

Love Your Neighbor

 

I have been living in Virginia for the greater part of three decades; living in, more specifically, Northern Virginia, for the greater part of three decades. I may not be “old Virginia” or “original Virginia”, but I am a Virginian. I love it here and I don’t love it here and I have a rather schizophrenic relationship with my state, that was never supposed to be my state, that I both love and hate.

Virginia is bipolar when it comes to weather, for example, and with every "pro" comes a "con." Virginia is BEAUTIFUL. If you are ever not stuck in the commute that is a part of life here, you can see how beautiful it is. We have one of the best fall seasons in our country! The leaves are stunning (and abundant- and they are a bear to rake, but they really are stunning). We have also one of the most beautiful spring seasons in our country. The blooms are fantastic, and I especially love the cherry blossoms. My eyes do not like the spring in terms of allergies, but I wouldn’t complain ever about how gorgeous it is.

 

 

 Here is another reason I think living here is awesome and not so awesome... Being In Northern Virginia, we are surrounded by transient people. Quantico, Fort Belvoir, Bowling, all the three letter organizations, and the endless contractors make for a very temporary feeling to the neighborhoods. I’ve been friends with the people in the house across the street from me since 1999. Six families have been in and out of my life over that time period, in that house alone, and it’s been beautiful and heartbreaking all at the same time. It’s hard stuff to be vulnerable with people, get close, and then have to say goodbye.

I wanted to post about this, because I think it’s relevant. In our social media-driven world, technology is replacing human interaction. Don’t get me wrong- technology is great to be able to keep up with friends and family that live far away. I know, though, that in my neighborhood lately, a lot less of us are outside (me included). We don’t really talk anymore. I think sometimes people actually go inside when they see other families coming out. I’m not as close to my neighbors as I once was. I don’t know who is sick, or who is dealing with a hardship or who is pregnant. I only know, really, a few of my neighbors any more because so many people have moved since I was more of an outside-talk-to-my-neighbors-type-of-girl, and I haven’t even had a chance to meet the new people.

Here is the thing:isn’t it relevant that people aren’t talking to other people anymore? Shouldn’t we want to know our neighbors? I know people that have literally said to me: "Why bother?" They would answer no, they don’t need to know their neighbors. I’m sure I’m not the only person who disagrees with that, though.

 

 

We need to bother, friends. We need, I believe, these relationships in our lives. Humans are relational. It is important to know the people around you and the people that live close to you. Furthermore, consider that so many populations are feeling isolated, attacked, and disenfranchised. Is it possible that we just aren’t talking to each other any more? Why aren’t we communicating with our neighbors? I think there is something to this. Talking, face-time (not the kind over the computer), and helping each other, getting to know each other; these are the sweet things of life.

I’ve lived on both sides of this coin. I grew up in a military family that moved every three years. Now, I live in a community surrounded by people that move every three years. I have had the position of the friend that leaves, and I currently reside in the position of being the friend that is left behind. I get it. It’s hard. It is easier to be the one leaving, in my opinion. That being said, what if I never had people and neighbors that poured into me, knowing that I was a temporary fixture in their world? My oldest, best friend and I met in Germany when we were just ten years old! I can’t imagine her not being a part of my life. I have some friends that I’ve known even longer than that- like pictures of naked babies in the bathtub stage of life (I’m the naked baby, by the way, and my friend would be the other naked baby, and today we have children that are at the University of Nebraska, the Naval Academy -he and his wife had twins- and Woodrow Wilson- all born the same day... hours apart).

My point is this: people are important. Relationships are important. Communication is important. Neighbors are important. Invest in your community. Invest in each other. We are relational and we need to love our neighbors. It’s a command.

 

 

So, keep calm, love your neighbors, and parent on!

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Independence Steps, Take Three!

 

It is time for another Tommy update! I’m so excited for him, and scared (I’m a mother, after all), and proud, and I’m actually having all the feelings that surround a child leaving the fold of our secure little nest and venturing into the brave new world... or in this case, a bigger nest, with supports that will hopefully help him succeed. Baby steps. Forward motion. Training means a longer step away this time.

Tommy finished up his life skills course at the end of September. Woodrow Wilson Workforce is a school/ training center in Fishersville, Virginia, and the people in this facility work diligently to provide people with learning challenges, developmental delays and disabilities learn a trade or a business enabling them to find meaningful work and become more independent. They do in-depth evaluations for the clients to match them with work they like, and work that they can do. Tommy successfully qualified for trying out business technology! He started this week.

So, independence is always on the forefront of my mind with Tommy. He definitely needs prompts and reminders for everything. Last week was a little crazy trying to get him packed and ready for school while I caught the lovely flu (again), and the schedule of my events in my cute little planner came to a screeching halt. However, soldier on, we must. We got his wardrobe taken care of early in the week (a silver lining of having a kid like Tommy is that as long as he has t-shirts and lounge pants, he’s not needy in the retail department). We did get him some new jeans and long sleeved shirts. He protested, but Fishersville is in the mountains and I’m sure they get more snow and cold than we do in Stafford. Also, new shoes, for the same reason. This is a kid that will wear flip-flops twenty-four-seven, if allowed. His insistence? A fedora. So not practical, but that is his choice for flair, I suppose!

The other parts of packing him up and preparing him for training is the stuff that is hard and harder. Did I tell him enough how special he is? Did I remind him to treat everyone with respect? Did I tell him how to handle difficult situations? Will he stand up for the right things, and remember to report the wrong things? These are the things that keep us, as parents, up at night. Sometimes up all night, every night, for several nights in a row. I’m just being honest. Well, we packed up and made it to Fishersville right on time on Monday (despite no sleep and a week of having a fever).

He (we) forgot his jacket, hat and gloves. He forgot his learner’s permit (Tommy!). “I packed my wallet!!” he exclaimed. Well... where is your permit? He thinks it is on his desk or in a pair of pants... (sigh). We forgot pens and paper (again). We went to the local Wal-Mart to get the things we forgot that we could get, anyway. We’ll mail him his other things- thank goodness for Virginia weather, because we are experiencing the January thaw even though it hasn’t really frozen yet. We settled Tommy in, got his closet situated and said goodbye.

It isn’t easier, by the way, even though it’s the third time we’ve dropped him off. This growing up stuff is a hard business! I know for me and my husband, we pray for our children to grow and become independent and launch. It’s so, so difficult to smile and let go and hope for the best. Hold onto your littles as long as you can, and then cheer on your bigs as they start their own adventures in this big crazy world. Love fierce. Teach them gently. Be consistent. Let them go. Let them fall. Help them back up again. It’s tough stuff, isn’t it?

In two months, I’ve now had two kids do big launch events. It’s all good, hard, and beautiful. I’m exhausted, and a little excited for the continued adventures of parenthood, and it will be good, I think. I trust.

 

 

We talked to Tommy last night, and despite a very quiet roommate who seems to be into sports (Tommy is anti-sports), he seems to be doing well. He likes being on his own again. Orientation went well, and classes start this week. “I’m fine, Mom, really. And I’ll remember to shower,” he said, “I love you.”

Oh, my heart.

So, keep calm, parents! Love, let go, and parent on!

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Why Me, Again?

 

So, in this brand new year, why did I have to catch the brand-new flu? I had the flu for most of last March. It hasn’t even been a year!! I’m put out, I tell you, not just out of commission, but out of humor and out of patience for my body that insists on getting sick so often. I am now praying fervently for all the cells, probiotics, vitamins, supplements, etc., to work together in this immune system that makes up me. I know I’m fragile, and all that, but seriously, now I’m offended that my little biome would give in so quickly this winter. Offended, and a little sad. Just sayin’!

So, with another seclusion to my bedroom, and with nothing else to do because, frankly, breathing is taking its toll, I have composed a million little posts to pontificate, extrapolate, and expound upon in my feverish state of being. The first, of which, is why me?

My very wise and good friend who lacks filters said once, “Why not you?”

I haven’t argued this point with her, since she said that to me once years ago. She’s right, of course. Bad things happen to good people, good things happen to bad people, and things just happen with abandon to everyone and anyone. I happen to believe that there is no such thing as an accident and everything has purpose, but she’s right: why not me?

 

 

So, I will pull up the big girl panties and get on with my day. I’ve hydrated, and medicated, and cancelled all appointments for the week. I’ve deferred my house detox. I’ve suspended homeschool for the week, except for reading and Minecraft because, come on, you can read and do Minecraft without me. I’ve issued directives on food and hand sanitizer. It’s a forced rest break. I wish I felt better to enjoy it, but I can’t have everything, right? My hero has even invoked sick leave for the rest of the week, so now even the mom-taxi services are curtailed. Praise!

The hidden benefit of being sick is witnessing how well the family does without me (or the collective you). This goes along with the premise of preparing them for independence, which is kind of a running theme of my writing. The husband does fantastic, first of all. He needs a little guidance, sure, but gone are the days where the house would be trashed and laundry would be overflowing all the living spaces. He’s awesome. The oldest actually did ok, too, which is kind of huge. He’s going to Woodrow Wilson Workforce next week, so I’m happy that although there were no complicated tasks, he was able to stay out of trouble and feed himself. Granted, he ate pizza and leftovers, but still, he ate. I had to remind him about showering, but baby steps are still forward moving steps, so that’s good. The middle, very responsible girl isolated herself in her room, complete with universal precautions, and screamed at me if I ventured out of my room. This is good. She definitely exhibits signs of great self-preservation. I’m pleased. That little one curled up with me and hugged me and asked if I was dying and layon me and went and told the husband that I was dying then came and lay on me some more. Needs improvement, that one.

 

 

While we are all works in progress, and a little bit mad here, we are people of great love. We’re not without our faults, though. We have our selfish moments and our selfless gifts, and I think one of the best things we may have going for us is homeschooling. Homeschooling definitely has some pluses and minuses, but one of the biggest pluses is being able to do life together all the time. This can be a negative, too, I’m not going to lie, but the plus side is that real life is being lived all the time, right? There is nothing as real life as having mom or dad get sick. For sure, the kids needed to be able to prepare food this week, they needed to be flexible with routines and cancellations, and they needed to be empathetic with each other and me. Well, it wasn’t always exactly pretty, but it all happened as it had to. Yes, we need to keep working on the finesse of living life, but I think we have the basics down. This reminds me of this thing I keep reading about -- this phenomenon known as adulting, and I’m hoping that my kids will be prepared to adult when they are done here, because they’ve not just had things magically happen (like chores being done, and dinner being made) and they see first hand the teamwork involved in raising a family and a marriage, for that matter.

The thing is that, once again, despite the odds stacked against us when we are sick or under the weather or whatever, we seem to all rise to the occasion of getting through it. Maybe that speaks to life training, independence goals, homeschooling, love, laughter, tears, tirades, etc., but it definitely speaks to the stuff of raising families, and that is where all of our (the collective our) beautiful and messy work lies.

So, keep calm, stay healthy, take your vitamins, and parent on!

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The Middle Girl Missionary

 

So, I need to post a little tribute to my lovely middle girl. Being in the middle is challenging all on its own, I’ve heard from countless people. Especially after announcing that I was pregnant with Katie, people in my own family commented that I had plagued Danielle with the challenge of being a middle child. I literally remember mourning a little after celebrating my third pregnancy. Hormones, holidays, and pregnancy can be a tricky mixture.

“I've made her a middle child,” I wailed one afternoon. “What have I done?”

However, am over the moon, as they say, to have the privilege of raising three kids. My fleeting moment of insanity surrounding the realization that I had created a middle child passed quickly when my husband was activated from reserve to active duty and deployed to Kuwait.  I had no time to fret! He arrived home with Katie’s imminent arrival, and we settled into being a family of five just fine, and Danielle has risen to the occasion in many, many ways. She is wise beyond her years, if nothing else, but she is also so mature and beautiful in many, many ways.

Earlier this year, Danielle announced her intentions to spend Christmas in India, bringing Christmas to people who don't have it (Christmas, that is).  My husband and I totally supported her, and very honestly assured her that she would have to raise the money for the trip- that we would not be paying for said trip to India. She very calmly answered that she was aware of this: she just needed our permission to officially begin the paperwork and fundraising efforts. She had our blessing, and a little part of me thought she might have to wait a year because it was so expensive and she had less than a year to raise funds. Silly, me. Well, it was clear that she would be meeting her travel goal right on time, because, you know, God. He was making everything happen right on His schedule. Aside from the surprise expense of the visa (who knew permission to enter and exit the country could cost so much?) and some last minute plane tickets to Atlanta, she raised all the money on her own.

Fast forward to today (Although this is posting in January, I wrote it on December eighteenth), as I write this in Atlanta airport, she has just rendezvoused with her team and I won't see her until New Year’s Eve. I'm both excited and wrecked. I am so happy for her, and I feel wistful, and a little sad. Since 2003, there have been five of us on Christmas morning. The reality that this year there will only be four of us is settling in. I am so very proud of Danielle, and I know she will be successful, but it feels a little lonely already.

I think it's funny that for ten months I've been speaking of this moment with excitement and parental pride. Two days ago, I started feeling anxious about the travel aspect. I get travel anxiety really bad! I was fine last night and this morning. The moment we left the hotel for the airport, though, I felt my calm unraveling. I made eye contact with the front desk clerk who checked us in yesterday and she mouthed, “Smile, Mama, it’ll be ok.”

She had to bring me a box of tissues. The guy driving the shuttle bus between the hotel and the airport gates had to endure a blubbering mother (me, by the way). Delta has its own little airport within the Atlanta Airport, and I was flying Southwest, so he dropped the team off first, then took me to my check-in spot. He hugged me goodbye at my terminal, gave me some Kleenex, and told me to stay busy. After ensuring I wasn’t a terrorist, nor was I smuggling bombs, even the TSA agent called me sweetheart and told me to have a nice holiday. People in Atlanta are awesome.

 

I have maintained a confidence regarding the launching of my children into the world. The three of them are all so different with different paths ahead of them, and the only thing they have in common is that they are all mine. And, I'm pretty fierce about that. It was hard to send my special needs son to school in Staunton. On top of the plain ol’ separation aspect, I had to worry about basic things like his remembering to groom, and for him to remember to put his clothes on the right way, and to remember to wear shoes. He was only three hours away, though. Danielle is half way around the world for her first, solo travel trip ever. She is a missionary. I'm going to be a deep breathing expert by New Year’s Eve. (In hindsight, literally, as I’m editing and posting this three weeks later, she was and is fine. I’m so happy, though, to have her back home!)

My point? Hug and love your kiddos! Prepare them to work toward independence. Help them see the world in a favorable light. Tell them you love them as often as you can. Some kids will need a little more physical help, and some will require a little more of your mental energy. The three of mine require three different styles of love, encouragement, and discipline. In that precious moment, though, that you need to let them spread their proverbial wings, the best and hardest thing for you to do is to whisper your love into their ears and open your arms and bravely let them go. Let them go and change the world, and know, Mama, that you are a big part of the impact they will have on others.

 

Stay calm, let go, and parent on!

 

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New Year's Resolutions... AGAIN

                                                                                   

 

So, I am off to starting the year off right!  I’ve got my super cute planner, complete with a calendar sticker set to go with the cute planner, to make the planner cheerful and cute, and one-hundred-and-forty new gel pens. I have a new computer (finally) and I have everything except for one missing file synced to said new computer. I’ve got the wall calendar up to date, and the phone calendar up to date and synced with my husband’s phone calendar and his Microsoft outlook calendar… So, how could I forget to post on my blog last week?! How could I not write? As soon as I have an answer to this, I’ll let you know; in the meantime, thanks for reading and sharing a recycled post last week.

 

                                                                                 

 

But, here is the annual start-the-new-year-off-right post. Enjoy reading, and hopefully smiling, and please don't judge me too harshly… It’s a work in progress- I’m a work in progress.

So, the number one goal is always to get Christmas packed up and stored away. Check, and double check… The Christmas decor is all packed up (and the house feels bigger and a bit empty). I even took some extra time to throw away broken ornaments, broken decor, and light strands that weren’t working. I couldn’t throw the lights away at the beginning of the season, because I was short an extension cord, and the light strands worked perfectly for that. The husband notes to me that this is not an approved use for said light strand, and insisted that it go in the trash.

Next, of course, It’s time to get organized (again) and I’m following a “detox” suggested by a very appealing Pinterest article I came across this year. It seems so easy: just do one thing a day for thirty-one days! Everyone can manage one thing a day. I postulated to my husband that in thirty-one days we would have a clutter-free, organized, detoxed house. Day one was papers. I was like, “OK- not so hard.” You know what, though? I have tons of papers! The husband pointed out that it would take thirty one days to complete the first task. I have medical reports, copies of labwork, genetics files, autism files, homeschooling files… So, I decided that those papers didn’t count because they weren’t just loosely floating around my house. This detox just meant loose papers, right? No problem! Day two was clean out my wallet. Done. Day three was clean out my purse. I think it was on day three I decided this detox thing may have been a little too radical for me. I’m going to go ahead and just stack some files up, and maybe wait another month or so to get to my purse. My purse is a Tardis- I’m not sure I can handle re-organizing that, yet. I don’t even think I could throw away a lot of stuff in my purse, because I may need something that is stored in there when we’re out of the house like gum, bandaids, hair-ties, or rain gear. Plus, all those rewards cards are stored in there, somewhere, too. Moving on...

 

                                                                                 

 

After organization projects were commenced (at least, slowly, but, hey, I did start), I looked at upgrading the ol’ fitness routine… or lack, thereof. I’ve started walking. I’ve inherited a Fitbit. and I just found out that I’m supposed to use the Fitbit to work out within a target heart rate. I’m not sure that exactly applies to me, as I am a health anomaly to everyone who knows me. My resting heart rate is dependent on if I’m standing or sitting, and it’s high. I hit the “standardized” target heart rate in, like, four minutes of being awake. My cardiologist (my very smart, highly reputable cardiologist) was even perplexed by this. He said I’ll probably live to be a hundred years old, and outlive everyone I know. Anyway, fitness is always a new year priority, but not where heart rates are concerned, for me, anyway. I vacuum twice a day and walk up and down the stairs twenty or so times a day, so my fitness is on track, in my opinion. Fitness, check!

 

                                                                            

 

Next on my New Year list is (of course) healthier cooking. Easy, peasy, lemon, squeezy. I totally just switched everything to organic and gluten free for the whole family, so we’re on the right track, here. Except for pizza nights- I couldn’t handle the meltdowns from my oldest and my youngest. Yes, I know it is bad parenting to negotiate with terrorists, but you haven’t lived with my terrorists, so no judgments, please. Our meltdowns are epic on a Star Wars scale, and The Imperial March is constantly blaring in the background of my mind. We only have pizza once a week, so I can’t even sweat the details on that. Danielle and I remain gluten free, even on pizza nights. I’d love to add, “and eat more vegetables,” but I won’t lie. Be healthier this year than last year is our mantra, and we’re doing fine.

Finally, as always, I am trying to find new ways to be kind; maybe I'll even start a kindness revolution in my neighborhood. I have lots of great ideas: I'll write a note, bring up someone’s trash can, pick up the paper at the end of the driveway and put it on their (not my) front porch. Also, I won't be too hard on myself and I hope you will join me in this! Mothering and fathering are hard work. The New Year, and the appeal of a new you, new habits, new things can become overwhelming. Let's all accept that while New Year resolutions are nice, they don’t exist to make us feel badly about where we are and who we are.

Keep calm, parent on!

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