Holding It All Together...

...with a few used pieces of Scotch tape I found on the floor, most of which are covered in kitty fluff.

Am I right? Moms out there? Ever feel this way? You know you have. I know you have. Still. When it's me, and I feel my little piece of the world I at least partially manage, with the help of others, is not as together and orderly as it should be, well... Who's fault could it be but my own? All my fault.

For me, it's paperwork. Namely, school paperwork that Sweetie brings home.

I actually pride myself on not being one of those moms who feels they have to hold on to every school project, test and paper my child brings home. I used to. But last year's move from one house to another helped me weed out all the unnecessaries. As the time came that we knew we'd be moving, then packing, I realized I really didn't want or need to pack up and move all these papers around. Be gone, math worksheets! You're out of here, random art squiggles and doodles. It's been nice knowing you, social studies studies. We just don't need y'all around here anymore. I'll keep tests and report cards. Really nice art and fun and/or well written essays and stories. The rest of it? Not so much. Not so needed.

So. That was last year. Now, we've been in our new home almost a year and I've done really well with keeping this practice going. I'll look through Sweetie's folder and, for the most part, throw most if not all graded items in the trash. She doesn't mind - encourages it, actually. I only keep the best of the best. Our clutter piles thank me for this - they're cluttered enough as it is.

Beyond the graded papers, Sweetie occasionally brings home school fliers and other informational notes and such from her teacher or the school in general. I'll read them right away, decide if they're something we'll need to refer to later, then toss or not accordingly. Sometimes, though, I get it wrong as to whether or not the flyer or note contains truly pertinent info. Pertinent to who? If not me (toss) maybe Swee (don't toss.)

This recently happened with a notice that came home regarding the school's end of the year talent show. I know I read this. I remember the general idea of the thing. It listed when auditions would be, when practices would be, and the do's and don't's for those auditioning. Interesting... but, after reading through it, I threw it away. Not needed.

Wrong! Wouldn't you know, Sweetie wanted to audition. Really wanted to audition! She wanted to do a skit with one or two other kids. But upon asking everyone she thought who may be interested, she found they were already auditioning for something else in the show, or just plain didn't want to do it. Oh well, I told her. At least you can enjoy watching the show. Or she could do something on her own. She's a good singer, why doesn't she do that?

Okay. She resigned herself to a solo act. She went through a couple different ideas of what that would be, until finally settling on the singing. She picked out a song and practiced at home. We encouraged her to do her best and we were happy for her to be trying out.

Then, about 8:45 the night before auditions, she happens to mention that these auditions were after school the next day.

What?! They are? Sorry, but you can't do that. Daddy and I work, unable to pick you up. It's way too late notice to ask Nana to pick you up there. You don't even know the details! What time after school? You certainly can't go back to the school to audition and be picked up after that. We need you to go to the Boys & Girls Club, as you're expected to do every day. Too late. Too little information known. No. You can't do it. Sorry.

Had I only kept that info sheet around, I would have known all this. Had I only dug the info sheet out of the recycling once Sweetie expressed her interest to audition, we wouldn't have had a poor, desperately sad Sweetie on our hands that night. Why didn't I think to retrieve that paper?

Long story a wee bit shorter, Sweetie talked to the powers that be at school the next day and arranged for herself to get another, during school, audition time a couple days later.

The night before this new audition time, I see in her folder a handwritten note from one of the teachers in charge of the show. It was addressed to Sweetie, but, along with confirmation of her audition time the next day, it mentioned to "please tell your parents that if you get in the show, practices will be after school."

I felt like I was being scolded. Like I was a child myself that needed a talking to about responsibility as well as a reminder of rules that should have already been known. I know I shouldn't have felt that way, and I'm 98% sure that's not the tone it was written in. But that's what I felt.

So! Sweetie auditioned, she got into the show, and she will do the after school practices. It's all fine, we told her, as long as we know ahead of time and can make arrangements. It's just not fine to have to scramble for arrangements at the 11th hour.

Regarding other holding-it-together/not-really parenting issues:

- One of Sweetie's report card grades, for Music, was Unsatisfactory. Other subcategories in Music were all Excellent and Satisfactory+. But this one, regarding her practicing of her recorder, was a U. Along with the grade came a note from her teacher saying that Sweetie hadn't been turning in her weekly sheets that show how much she's been practicing, even though the teacher reminded her 3 different times to do this. We knew that Sweetie had been doing the practicing - it was just turning in these slips of proof that was the issue. I felt bad because I had seen a couple of these slips in Sweetie's room a couple times, but I'd thrown them away, since they were for weeks gone by. Why would she need these anymore? Anyway, she practices through an on-line service and records her practicing there. These slips aren't even needed.

Little did I know that that on-line service hadn't worked for weeks and that, yes, these slips were the only way to show your work.

So there I was, writing to Sweetie's music teacher, explaining the situation. How I threw out the forms. How Sweetie really had done the work. How, obviously, this was completely up to her if this new info would change Sweetie's grade or not. How we recognize it was unexcusable for Sweetie to have been reminded 3 times about something and she still never produced the required forms - or asked us for help with the problem. But, there you go. That is what happened.

And yes, it's "only" Music, in elementary school. One small aspect of Music, actually. But I felt at least partly at fault for this. I should have asked Sweetie if she needed these forms before throwing them out. I should have known that the on-line way of noting your practice wasn't working and that the forms were the only way. I should have been more diligent about making sure Sweetie was actually practicing. My evening job makes me unaware of much of Sweetie's homework. It (should be) all done well before I get home. Still, I should be more aware. I used to be.

- Sweetie's science grade dropped significantly this last report card too. Still a good grade, but a grade and a half lower than 1st term. We questioned Sweetie on it, but didn't get very far for why/how she thought this happened. So I took it upon myself to email her teacher for answers as well as ways we can help Sweetie bring this grade back up. Tricky, when she rarely, if ever, has science homework.

However, upon looking in her assignment notebook, I did see that, some weeks prior, she'd had the science assignment to bring a snack food in (I think to discuss/find out the nutritional value of???) Having seen that, I remembered how Sweetie had casually told me how she'd forgotten to bring in her food, but a classmate gave her some of her own to work with. But even at the time, Sweetie so non-chalantly talked about this - with no remorse for not having done something she was supposed to - that I hardly considered it as anything more than another school story of hers. But, having seen the dropped grade on the report card, followed by the written instruction - in her own hand, in her own book - to bring something specific in to class... well, it reminded me of how bad I've become at checking through her assignment book. I used to all the time. I was always pretty on top of what her homework was and other important school information. But here was a homework assignment I'd never seen - along with so many others - and Sweetie'd not done it. Had I known about it, I could have reminded her of it, no problem.

This lone incident, of course, was not the downfall of her final grade. Turns out she'd been goofing around with a friend a lot during science labs, instead of working. But the teacher moved Sweetie's seat away from this friend and, after I emailed her, talked with Sweetie about her not paying attention and why she was moved, working with Sweetie on an understanding and agreement that she'd now concentrate harder.

This is a great end result to the whole situation, and I'm glad to know I can easily work with the teacher and she's willing to work with me and Sweetie to help Sweetie out. But, one the one hand, I feel partly at fault because of my not looking after Sweetie's assignment book. On the other hand, I feel too working-behind-the-scenes/helicopter-parent-ish for contacting her teacher about the lower grade when it's an issue, honestly, that isn't my fault - but Sweetie's own lack of concentration and inability to take care of her own assignments.

Holding it all together - either too tightly, or not enough? So hard to find the balance.

Another example of that:

- About a week or so before the above email exchange, I also emailed with Sweetie's teacher and guidance counselor about my (and Hubby's) desire for Sweetie to form some new female friendships. The 2 boys she is friends with are great kids. But one is older and therefore going to the middle school next year, and the other is moving away next year. So we are concerned that she will end up lost and lonely. If there was anything her teacher could do to encourage female friendships for Sweetie, we'd be appreciative.

Her teacher wrote back, stating that she too had the same concerns for Sweetie. She had separated Sweetie and her one boy friend in the class (see above), in part hoping to get her involved with some girls instead. She and the guidance counselor told me they'd also think of some other ways to encourage new connections.

Did I go too far? I'd already talked to Sweetie about making new friendships with girls. Did I have to/should I have gone behind Sweetie's back to make sure everyone who could help with this was on board and working toward a similar goal? Or was that too much? Should I have just left it in Sweetie's hands and walked away? She's in 4th Grade, for goodness sake! High time she be responsible for her own actions, not needing mom and dad so much to make sure all is running smoothly.

But - she's only in 4th Grade, for goodness sake. Still a little girl in need of as much support as she can get from her loving parents.

Again, the fine balance of too much/too little plays out in my parenting life in so many ways.

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So. After all that, after the literally hours it's taken me to write this (working between family outings and helping Sweetie with a school project - helping too much? not enough?) I almost feel like I don't want to post it. It sound/feels to whiny to me. Way too much blaming myself when, clearly, the blame is not on me.

Sweetie should have known the details - and divulged them to us - way before she did, if the talent show was that important to her. Sweetie should have been turning in her music sheets. Especially - my goodness! - after being reminded 3 separate times! It's my right as a responsible, loving parent to want the best for my child and to question dropped grades and to be concerned with who she makes friends with. Sweetie should be in control of her homework and completely able to remember to do things she's meant to do.

None of this is my fault at all, really. I see that now. I guess I've seen it all along. It's not my fault.

So, I will post this. Because, like it or not, right or wrong, this is how I have felt, at times, recently. Like it's my job to hold at least certain aspects of our family life together, and I'm failing in bits and pieces. I know other moms out there feel/have felt the exact same way I have. It's important, I think, for me to share these feelings. To not only write them out for myself, but to show to others that they are not alone in how they sometimes feel.

But failing? No. I see now that I'm not. I see now how much I'm actually succeeding. Many parents don't take the time to even go over their kids report cards, let alone contact a teacher when something seems amiss. Many parents don't even know who their kids' friends are, let alone wish to see them succeed socially, having fun with a variety of kids. Other parents would have told their kid that they couldn't try out for something that would end up making scheduling their own lives difficult. We, though, are happy to have Sweetie involved, even if it means rearranging our schedules and working with others to make sure Sweetie can be where she needs to be in order to participate.

Failing? No. Succeeding to the best of my abilities. Yes.

Hey, look what I just found! A brand new role of duct tape and some Super Glue.

I've got this. No problem.

Beyond Imagination

So. DI season is over.

That was fun.

No, really. It was better than fun. Despite all my rantings and ravings - with the kids, and afterwards to my Hubby - and all the wine I necessarily consumed post-meetings - I really, truly, honestly enjoyed this time as a Team Manager for Sweetie's team.

I thought it would be a few months of supervising kids as they planned out and created their solution to a Team Challenge on which they agreed upon focusing their time. Throw in some Instant Challenges I'd have to come up with, somehow, for them to solve on the spot, and that was pretty much all I'd have to do. This collecting of Instant Challenges, in fact, I figured would be the toughest part of my responsibilities. Where the heck do you find Instant Challenges, anyway? (I quickly found out, and it wasn't really an issue after all.) At any rate, DI is all about the kids working out solutions. Parents, managers and any other adults are expressly warned that they are to be completely hands off. Cool. Like I said, I'd sit and supervise. No prob.

How quickly did I learn that I'd be doing oh so much more than "just supervising"? Oh, I'd say within the first 30 seconds of our first meeting. No. Earlier than that. Preparing for that first meeting. But in actual time with the kids? Pretty much immediately.

And not just me doing more (Mediator. Guidance Counselor. Teacher. Nurse. Organizer. Etc., etc., etc....) than I thought I would. But me learning more than I ever thought I would. Who would have thought that this small team of 3 could ever show me so much about myself and the world around me, while working on a project that's designed to show them how much they really know for themselves?

Things I learned - or at least were reminded of - from Destination Imagination:

- 3 kids is not an easily manageable number. One always feels left out. It will change, as to who feels like he or she is being left out. But one always does. Decision-making can be nearly impossible.

- I can keep my nose out of things fairly well. I was concerned, going into this, that I'd want to be too controlling - too in-control. But, all in all, I feel I was pretty darn successful at letting the kids plan out their solution on their own (as I was supposed to do.) I saw as they went along where things, I knew, would eventually fall apart for them. But allowing them to buy/gather/produce/try whatever they wanted in order for them to get to that place where they saw for themselves that things weren't going to go as they envisioned came easier to me than I expected it would.

- Sometimes - heck, a lot of times - they really surprised me by going through with their plans that I "knew" would fail and ending up with some totally awesome and completely successful workable solutions. Wow! I would have never thought in a million years that would work out the way it did.

- Making assumptions really can hold you back.

- Failing is not only okay, but encouraged. You didn't do it right this time? Okay. Do it again. Do it better. What did you learn? Maybe something else you never even thought of is now on the table to explore further. Fail spectacularly and try again. Go!

- Take a breath before speaking. See if others have ideas. Collaborate. Work together on a communal solution, not together on 1 member's idea. The more involved every member feels, the better they'll all feel about the final solution, or why the answer they tried to achieve didn't really work in the end.

- Celebrate "weirdness." Some pretty cool things come out of some pretty weird ideas.

- Coming together as a group is key. Absolutely. When one member is just "done" with the whole experience, the whole group is done. But not lost! Find a way to reconnect, refocus, and get back on track. You can do it!

- Sometimes a person just doesn't want to hear it. Doesn't want to be helped. Won't allow you to be "let in." Not in the moment, anyway. People need time to process mistakes. Even if those mistakes are only self-perceived. They just need some time...

- ... But they'll come around. Sooner or later, they always do.

- "Only children" vs. "the youngest in a family." Oh what a difference, maturity-level wise.

- My kid is a confident, mean power driller. Who knew?!

- The bestest of friends can bicker the most. Of course they do! They feel comfortable enough with each other to know that they can express their frustrations and displeasures, but still be great friends when it's done.

- Sending a simple email to check in on a kid who you can tell had a long, rough day of stress and injury can do a world of good for that kid - and yourself. They will know that you have their back, are concerned for them, and think they are pretty great stuff. Because they are.

- Making a kid do something they absolutely, unequivocally do NOT want to do can, in the end, show them that they not only can do it, but can do it really well and will actually have fun while doing it!

- I can grab ahold of a situation, stop the chaos, and calm things down. I can command attention. I can ease tension. I can make others see when things are not that big of a deal or, conversely, when things are much more important than they think they are. I can keep people on track. I can do a lot more than I think I can, while allowing others to see that they can too.

- It stabs a little to know you most likely "lost" a kid. No more DI for them. At least, that's how they feel now. We'll see. (Heck, I don't even know if I want to do it again!)

- It's worth it all to know that the kid who passionately stated they would absolutely, positively never do DI again and could not wait until it was all over, actually ended up enjoying Regionals and would consider another go at it next year. Even if they don't - wow. What a turn around!

- It doesn't matter whether you win or lose. It's whether or not you showed up and did your best. One team member who I thought "got this" saw one of their competitors after their own performance and felt sadly defeated. "We didn't win. They were better than us!" As opposed to the team member who is painfully shy and afraid to fail seeing the same performance and declaring, simply and honestly, "Wow! They were really good!" Kids. You never can tell. They will surprise you every time.

- Everything will be okay in the end. Every time. Not to worry. It's not your problem.

- Kids are amazing, creative, smart and just plain awesome.  They can do oh so much more than we think they can. Allow them to think and do and try and try again. What an amazing gift to give to our children.

And perhaps the biggest lesson I learned? Being a DI Team Manager is like giving birth to a child. In the heat of it, it hurts. A lot! You can't imagine why you got yourself into this mess in the first place. You'll never do this again! You just want it all to be over. But when it is? Eh. That wasn't so bad. And look at what you have to show for it? Something really beautiful. I want some more of this in my life...

Boys vs. Girls

I've presented Sweetie with a task.

Starting next week, she must attempt to talk to/play with/befriend a girl or girls in her class.

Not to say that her best friend (a boy) and her best classroom friend (another boy) aren't great kids. They really are! But to know that, half way through the 4th grade, she's still either playing with these particular boys or off playing (happily, I presume) by herself... well, I really think she needs to mix it up a bit. Stretch her limits of comfort and what she's used to as "the way" for her.

I remember, for myself, as early as Kindergarten I had one very best girl friend. We were inseparable! We were always together at recesses, we played on weekends, we had sleepovers and we talked forever on the phone. And this was all before I was 10, as it was that summer that we moved from Ohio to New Hampshire and our friendship was abruptly altered forever.

Now, as far as the dramatics and difficulties of befriending the female of the species as one of the crowd yourself... man, I get it. Moving to NH for the start of the 5th grade, being the new kid who was so "different' and walked funny and all that... it either enhanced my shyness or created it - I don't remember which - and I had difficulty making friends. But I ultimately did. In 5th and 6th grade I was part of a small band of friends - definitely not the popular crowd - that consisted of 3 other girls and a boy. We had fun together, if not oodles of other kids clamoring to join in on our (mild-mannered) shenanigans.

In junior high, we disbanded, with me going off to one area school and they going to the other (much, much larger) school downtown. I made friends with a new group of girls. Enough so that we went to each other's homes for sleepovers and invited each other to our birthday parties. But we didn't really hang out together outside of school. With one girl I did, I think, just a bit. But it definitely wasn't a chatting on the phone/hanging out together every weekend sort of friendship. I was decidedly much more a part of a small (still not popular) "group" and not terribly chummy with any individual member of said group just one on one. Maybe the others were with each other? I don't know. I suppose I was happy enough to have a table of friends to sit with at lunch and to lead the rest of my life in relative peace.

By the time I went off to high school, I was leaving our junior high a year earlier than all the others to attend a small, all girls, Catholic school in town. Another girl from my group of friends was coming with me and, yes, we did remain friends right through graduation. But my very best friend in high school showed up in a girl who was 110% the exact opposite from me. Whereas I was a quiet, polite, girly girl who enjoyed school and my classes well enough and basically just wanted to keep to my hidden, unassuming ways, my friend was a trash talking tomboy-to-end-all-tomboys who liked hard rock, didn't like school, and reveled in being different. Or at least that's what she presented to others. Now I recognize that she was probably just as self conscious as anyone - maybe more so - but was doing her utmost to make it look like she didn't have a care in the world. I suppose being with her excited me, to show me a bit of the wild side. I can't speak for her to say what it was about me that kept her around as my friend through the years. But come post-graduation, when I realized that it was always me calling her during our freshman years of college in different states - and she never sounding all that focused or interested when I did call - I made the decision to just not call her again. To see if she would call me if that was her only option for staying in touch. She didn't call. Or write. To this day, I have no idea where she is or what she's doing.

In college - there I was, off again to another all female institution. I had no choice but to befriend, of course, other girls (women!). I liked my roommate well enough. She, like me, was shy, quirky, and involved in her studies. She had friends from her hometown at school with us as well, so I had a casual acquaintanceship with them as well. But beyond these 3, I really didn't make any great, deep, long-lasting friendships. Friendly with many, close to few. In fact, by the end of my sophomore year, I was feeling as out of place as ever amongst this collection of women who were, as a whole, largely science and math focused - always off to labs and math clubs and studying - while I, the lonely English major, "just" stayed in my dorm room reading and writing all day.

I got the heck out of there and transferred to somewhere - co-ed - closer to home. And, being closer to home, I lived at home with my parents and only went to school for my classes, rarely having much between-class time to hang out much and form any friendships. Except for one. A guy. He, again, was shy and quirky, just like me. We did hang out together at the on-campus pub when waiting for our next classes to start. And we had lunch together in the cafeteria when we could. But, again, it was a purely on-campus friendship. Not the kind of relationship where we'd call each other up to just chat or hang out on the weekends together. He's another one I immediately lost contact with after graduation. Oh well.

But, how nice it was to be friends with a guy! Girls were so dramatic and gossipy. Guys didn't care. This guy accepted me, as is. Girls, in general, were too.... much. I was girled out!

So, as you can see, I've never been one for deep, meaningful relationships with other females. To this day - yes, of course I have a few good female friends. But they are the types of friendships where we meet for coffee once a month, or go to each other's houses - with our husbands or significant others - for dinner and drinks, or meet at book club to discuss our latest reads. Not to say they are not true friends. Of course they are! I value my friends and the times we're together very much. They are a great bunch of ladies! But, even though they may very well be - most definitely are, in fact - women who talk on the phone with and shop with and generally hang out with their other girl friends, my friendships with these ladies are much more compartmentalized, subdued and relaxed. Which is just the way I like it. I'm not looking for or needing silly girl talk and shopping trips and girls weekends, etc. I am accustomed to my quiet, one-on-one ways of coffee chats, wine evenings, and book reviews. Keep it quiet. It is my way.

I noticed this last time I took Sweetie to a roller skating night at her school. Other moms were huddled in groups of 2 or 3, chatting and laughing and having a great time together, with their young daughters, likewise, all laughing, skating and having fun together. And I sat by myself, enjoying watching the kids go round and round - especially Sweetie as she made her way around and around the gym floor, having a grand ol' time all by herself. I recognized many of these women as the moms of kids whom Sweetie's been classmates with for 5 years. But I have never had the opportunity to be around any of these women enough over the years to form any real friendships with them. And that was fine. Is fine. I didn't necessarily feel lonely that night, nor did Sweetie appear to be anything but truly happy with the way her evening was going. But I did begin to notice where Sweetie gets her anti-female ideas from, even if they are subconscious. I don't have overtly obvious female friendships (that can be noticed or are talked about on a daily basis) and am doing just fine, so why should she?

So, yeah. I get it! Sweetie has fallen in with the boys from the get-go and that's where she feels most comfortable. Which is great! And cool! So far. She has always been the super hero loving/Lego playing/imaginative girl. She's a quirky kid, and not ashamed of it. She's just discovered much earlier in life what it took many years of friendships with others for me to realize - that it's much easier to be "one of the guys" than to model yourself as something you're not just to gain a female friend or two in your corner.

BUT, after all that...there's also something to be said - especially as Sweetie and her classmates enter into upper elementary and junior high school - about fitting in, in the name of getting through these pending difficult years with as little drama as possible. There's some worth to be had in establishing a few meaningful female friendships as they all begin to change and develop and grow. I'm wondering if it may not be so easy to maintain true friendships with her current male friends as these next few years pass us by. Wouldn't it be good and nice for her to have some girls she can turn to when the boys, inevitably, let her down? Or, for that matter, when they come beating down her door! Having a few good girl friends to giggle and gossip and hang with, at this time in her life, may be a very, very good thing for her to invest in.

So, take it from me, kid. At least try to give this a shot. Girls aren't so bad. You may find this hard to believe now, but you just may want to giggle and joke and tell secrets with someone other than me in the not too far off future.

Trust me. I'm your mother.

The Truth Hurts...

... But it will also set you free.

So, I've been going to all these doctor appointments lately, and the professionals all want to know... when did the back pain start?

Oh, sure, they want to know about the beginnings of my other thises and thats going on. For those, I can only give a very rough estimate. I don't know... awhile. Too long.

But for my back pain... I can recall almost to the day, I feel, that I started to hurt. And, in turn, it pains me to associate the two - but I'll tell you the truth: I did not start having back pain until Sweetie was about 6 months old.

It made complete sense to me, actually. Sure, I wasn't able to carry her around. But I was definitely lifting her up and twisting in my chair with her an awful lot. And some very short distant carrying as well. Standing and rocking/swaying/bouncing with her too. All movements - repetitive movements - that were new to me. Movements, furthermore, with an ever-increasing weight. Of course my back hurt! I was "exercising" my body in ways that I'd never done before! So, okay then, back pain. I can deal.

At first, I figured that once I got more used to these repetitive new movements, my body would get stronger and the pain would start to lessen or - better yet - go away completely. Alas, no. Over time I came to realize it wasn't going anywhere. As long as I had a Sweetie to lift and twist with, my back would continue to hurt.

Fine. What, is that like 2 or 3 years, at the absolute most? By the time she's that old, she can most definitely crawl up on my lap herself. By that time, if she ever wants "up!" I'll definitely not be able to handle her weight and she'll be going to Daddy with those requests. 2 or 3 years - I can take it. After that, my back can slowly begin its return to feeling better.

Ha! Cut to my mom saying, just the other day, "So, now that your daughter's 10 years old, you decided maybe your back wasn't going to get better on its own and you should go see someone about it!"

Well, you know... I wanted to be sure.

Small potatoes... at least I'm seeing someone now! At least I'm looking for answers and relief, no matter how long it took me to get here. I'm finally taking care of me.

And it's interesting. Learning from the physiatrist and physical therapist, that of course my back hurts! For one, my body doesn't have access to all the right muscles in all the right places, so I have to compensate. That compensation, over time, wears down my joints and vertebrae. Things aren't as cushioned as they once were. Plus, yeah, taking care of an infant Sweetie did start the process for me, as I was moving in ways I hadn't before - wearing down these joints and vertebrae and cushioned areas with all the physicalness associated with being a new mom.

Huh - yes, of course. Yet I had never given much thought to how my body moves, what it can and can't do. I just move how I do - how I have to to get around and do what needs to be done everyday.

How crappy that, no matter what I do or have done, I'd have ended up, eventually, in the same situation, pretty much. Time frame not withstanding. Since, had I not had Sweetie, I would not be in the same poor physical state I am today. Yes - eventually, to be sure. But the fact remains that the mere act of becoming a parent pushed up my body deterioration inevitability by many several years.

(What's more, had I not had Sweetie, I wouldn't have had to have a hysterectomy 6 years ago, as it was my pregnancy that caused my uterus to prolapse - which is, as it turns out, a pretty common occurrence for women with spina bifida who've gone through a pregnancy, as we tend to have weaker pelvic floor muscles than the average woman. Huh - who knew?)

Talk about a blog post of mine I'd really rather Sweetie not read ever.

But, there it is. The truth. And the truth hurts - quite literally, in my case.

But like I said at the beginning as well - the truth will also set you free.

I feel free to report what I've gone through - am going through - with my bodily aches and pains. Why I have them, where they originated, and how bad they can be at times.

But I am also here to happily report that I am finally being truthful with myself about how bad the pain can really be at times, no matter how the heck it started! I have set myself free from worrying about and taking care of others so much while ignoring my own demands... finally seeing that it is a demand my body is delivering to me... finally seeing that what I'm personally experiencing should not be ignored. I am worth it - so very worth it - and need to take care of myself in order that I may be around, functioning at my best capacity, to be with and take care of others for many, many years to come.

Doing something that will, at the very least, ease my symptoms and possibly slow any further deterioration, if not fully take the pain away.

So, yes, it was my pregnancy and early parenting days that served as the catalyst for the current state of my physical condition. But - I was going there anyway. And if it wasn't a pregnancy that did it? Maybe it would have been all that globe trekking and hiking hither and yon that Hubby and I would have surely done as the international, childless vacationers we would have become that did me in at an early age. Or even a more stationary life I could have adopted, had I had no other cares in the world - move it or lose it, as they say.

And, lastly, let me more specifically clear something up. It was the pregnancy - not Sweetie herself - that wasn't so great for me. It was my ways that I moved my body. My decision to not make an earlier attempt to finally look into treating my pain. Sweetie herself has no blame in any of that what. so. ever.

And, yes, I've certainly realized the connection between her arrival and the start of my pain before, obviously. But, no, I have never, not for one millisecond of a millisecond, ever thought to myself how better off I'd be without her.

Because that is the biggest, most ugly lie to be told in all the world.

For all my aches and pains, stresses both physical and mental, I am such a better person for having Sweetie in my life. For having the honor of being this amazing little girl's mom.

And that, my friends, is the absolute, pain-free, TRUTH!

Getting Old (with a disability) Sucks

So, I have this little blog. It's called Sweetie & Me and it's all about, well, Sweetie & me. I started it, jeez, almost 8 years ago, mostly as a place to discuss my being a disabled mom raising my healthy and active daughter. You see, there are very few - I mean really very few - resources out there for women with spina bifida wanting to have a normal pregnancy and child raising experience. At least that was the case back then. Unfortunately, that still seems to be pretty much true. I just wanted to be that one voice in the crowd that people could quietly hear and listen to, question and feel connected to, if they wished. So I started the blog and began to write.

And I did hear from people! I still do, in fact. And, through my blog, I've gained many opportunities I wouldn't have otherwise. Freelance writing opportunities, for instance, for various niche online and in-print publications, where I got to further tell my tales of being a special needs mom to my just plain special little girl.

But somewhere along the way - and not altogether that long after starting the blog, even - I just started writing about, you know, "stuff." Mom stuff, kid stuff, funny, poignant, infuriating, normal stuff. Which, of course, is all "normal" when it comes to being a parent. So, in essence, my blog pretty much became a parenting blog, - or, really, a Sweetie blog - more so than a disabled mom/healthy kid blog. Because, in my world - in my family's world - it's all normal. It's our normal. Things weren't happening or not because of my disability. Life was happening, all the time, no matter what my body could or could not easily do. It's just - life.

And so, these nearly 8 years later, I'm still checking in - though, granted, not as regularly as I'd like - to write about life. My life, Sweetie's life, our life - and how it goes on. I'm still loving the writing and happy to have a place to share. But, no, I can't really claim that it continues to fit my original purpose for creating the blog in the first place.

Hubby pointed this out a few months ago, wondering if it was still even worth it to have the blog at all anymore. Seeing as I don't really talk about spina bifida that often, or raising a healthy kid while I myself have some physical limitations. It doesn't fit its original purpose. It's "just a blog." What's the point?

No worries there. The blog continues on and will for the foreseeable future. Silly Hubby! Stop the blog? No way, no how.

Now, cut to Jan. 1st, 2013. A date I decided was going to be the start of "my year." I have been taking care of Sweetie and Hubby all these years, while quietly dealing with, downplaying and/or outright denying any physical issues I'd been experiencing over the years. Yeah, I hurt. Sure, I'm tired a lot. No, that's not the end of my "issues" list, if you want to know the truth. But it's nothing. No complaints here. Keep calm and carry on.

So - 2013. My year! This meaning lots of doctors appointments on my schedule. I've seen my GP, my neurologist, a dermatologist, the eye doctor and a physiatrist. I've had tests done, and have more on the schedule. I am getting all checked out! Time to admit I'm not feeling my absolute greatest and figure out what's going on and how to make it all better. Time to admit life isn't as "normal" as it once was for me. Things are harder to do. Things do hurt. Things just don't feel right.

Time to look at this blog and see how little I've written about how I'm actually feeling and moving - topics that would fit oh so well into the original purpose of the blog - compared to how much I continue to write about Sweetie and all her "normal" shenanigans. Sweetie's funny and smart and great and interesting! Who cares about the comparatively minor inconveniences of my sore and tired slowing down body? No one! Not relevant!

Well, yes. Relevant. Completely. Duh.

So. Some lab results came in. My GP and I presumed that these results would show either some thyroid and/or estrogen issues for me. And when I saw the initial results myself, I thought for sure they indeed did confirm a slow functioning thyroid. This, I thought, was great news! See?! Something IS wrong with me! But. BUT! It can now be FIXED! Yee haw! So exciting.

(Funny how much more yucky you start to feel when test results -presumably- come in to back up your claims.)

But. BUT!... Well, no. The results do not show that, actually, my doctor pointed out. You're fine. Go on and live your life as you've been. Thank you, and goodbye.

Hey, now. Not so fast, mister! I wrote back to him, saying, well, that's all great and stuff. But still. These issues! These symptoms! What do I do now?!

In the end, my doctor consulted with an endocrinologist on my lab results, confirming what my doc said about them in the first place. But he does suggest I try some CoQ10 to, for starters, see if my fatigue symptoms can be helped.

Well, now. That's something! At least we're being proactive here. CoQ10 will be bought and tried. Yeah!

And then there's the physiatrist appointment I just had. A physiatrist! I had never in my whole entire life heard of such a doctor, but now wonder why I have not had a physiatrist my whole entire life. A doctor who treats disability and pain resulting from injury or disease, especially related to spinal cord issues?! Dude! Where has this been all my life?!

The doctor himself I thought was, um, strange. Spastic, nervous, mild mannered. Odd. But also completely intelligent and intuitive - the guy knows his stuff, even if he's not very good at expressing it.

So what has he determined are my issues, causing my constant low back pain and a left thigh that goes numb after standing or walking on it for 5 minutes or so? Well, that would be bursitis in my hips, and arthritis in my back - more specifically, spinal stenosis.

Awesome.

And I've hardly ever mentioned any of these issues on this blog. In passing, maybe, sure. But nothing that anyone would remember, I bet.

Not so good for a blog that's supposed to discuss my challenges as a disabled mom!

So now, I'll be having an MRI, just to confirm these diagnoses and deny anything else. I'll start some aqua therapy, get a prescription back brace, and some prescription pain relief options, just to have on hand if I want to try that route. Which, you know, I'd rather not, as taking drugs is not really my style. I'm not opposed to drugs. You can certainly tell me about that option and I may just want to give it a try. But I'll probably go a non or less drug route in the end, if I can help it.

And this doctor got that from me, right away. He could tell I'm a minimalist when it comes to taking things. He noted to me that I wasn't "on" very many things, and I said I thought I was on a lot! Thinking about it, though, most of the things I take are supplements of some sort, and not actual drugs.

He could also tell, right away, that I'm not a complainer. How true, how true. I found myself telling him about the rest of my family, including how my daughter doesn't complain at all. I also had to admitted to hating this - it's not always a good thing to have a kid who doesn't complain, you know.

"She gets it from you," he said.

"Bu..." But she has something to really complain about!, I just about nearly said out loud.

Sweetie has Lyme, I wanted to say. She totally could complain. But she doesn't. But that's, probably, you know, because by all rights, she actually feels pretty good on most days. Huh. I guess she's okay.

Just think of that! I was all ready to say how much my daughter has every right in the world to complain a lot - a child who, yes, has Lyme, but really seems to have it pretty much under control for the most part. As opposed to me, who I feel comparatively has no right to complain... yet I have real aches and pains and fatigue and other assorted issues every single day.

I didn't tell him any of this. But, obviously, I've been thinking on this craziness ever since.

The reality of my falling a lot also came up with the physiatrist, as well. I, as always, tried to brush it off, laughing that I fall so much, I'm a professional. I fall so much, I know how to do it as safely as possible. "Yeah, but falling's not good!" he pointed out. Along with falls in general just not being good for me, he pointed out that I'm getting older too, so age, factored in to what I've already got going on, really makes the effects of falls challenging for me. I admitted, well, yes, I have found that it's harder for me to recover from falls these days. I can feel the soreness, for instance, the next day after a good fall, when before I could just get up, brush myself off, and forget all about it.

Could it be that simple acts like merely walking around are major accomplishments - or challenges - for me? Am I way worse off then I've ever believed myself to be? Sure, getting real answers to my aches and pains is, in one way, helpful, because now I can work on fixing them. But at the same time, I kind of now feel like I should have been doing things differently my whole life so that I wouldn't have wound up like this by now. I'm having a real conflict with the idea I've grown up with of, "well, nobody ever said I couldn't, so I'm at least going to try - I can do anything I set my mind to," and what I feel I need to consider now, being "you've really got some things going on with yourself, so maybe you need to think and take care more to live a more protected life."

It's confusing. Yes, I still have the same pains as always. The same pains I've just dealt with ever since Sweetie was about 6 months old. Pain that I've never considered to be all that major, but annoying is all. But now, my pain has a name. Two names - not only arthritis, but bursitis as well. Problems that I know cause much pain and limitations in the bodies of others. Obviously, these things I've been "just dealing with" are big! So now, what? Am I supposed to feel just awful? Am I supposed to now be purposefully limited in what I can and can't do? But that's not what I'm used to! Not many people have ever told me before to chill out and slow down. Doctors, family, friends - everyone! - have always treated me as one of the gang, able to do whatever I feel I can do. And I've always felt I can do it all!

To feel like myself and go on as always without complaint, being the regular "can do" mom I've always been? Or to feel a kind of justification and vindication that, see!, I do have some major things going on with me, I can and should take care of myself, and if I think I hurt a little, to listen to my body because that amount of pain may be - probably is - enough to cripple anyone else into bed for a good many days, if not longer. Listen to my body and realize, hey, I must have a pretty high pain threshold to allow me to do all I do.

I guess that's just it. I don't want to complain. There's no point in it, it doesn't change anything, and it just annoys anyone listening to it. Complaining isn't my style. But there is something to what I said about feeling vindicated. Being able to say, "See? I am in pain and there is a reason why." Like what I felt initially with my self diagnosed thyroid issue - I felt excited, happy!, that something diagnosable was going on - diagnosable, and therefore, treatable! Soon, I would be feeling better. And when it came to pass that my thyroid was fine, per my doctor, I was at least happy again when he gave me something concrete to do. Take this supplement - it should help you feel better.

But there's also something about now being made to feel like I'm "sick" or diagnostically limited in ways I wasn't just a mere few days ago. Before, I carried on through my pain. Now, I know what's causing the pain - what's physically happening in my body to create the pain - and I instinctively feel the need to take better care of myself. Which, you know, isn't such a bad thing. It's just - being more aware of my body and why it's feeling the way it is, and trying to take care that I don't do anything to make it too much worse too soon.

Vindicated. Validated. Listened to. That's how I feel now, in the end. Which feels pretty good. As for how I live my life? I think I'll, for the most part, chalk it all up to age. Anyone can get arthritis and bursitis as they age. And, yeah, it sucks for anyone! No real need to voice that - not for me, anyway. But I will start to do what I can to help me feel as best as I can in the body I have. I really am looking forward to feeling looser and less achy. Bring on the aqua therapy!

But will I continue to be the same me as always? The same wife and mom as always? Taking care of those I love who need taking care of, pushing my needs - just a bit - to the side in order to make sure my family is feeling its best? Yes. Living our regular, normal lives. Doing (physically) what I want, when I want, and not worrying too much about it being too much for me. That's just the way I am, just the way I always will be.

And, yeah, just maybe, I'll check in more regularly here at Sweetie & Me with some updates on how life really is for a (aging) mom with a physical disability, those challenges, and how they may or may not effect the raising of one of the greatest little girls around.

'Nuff Said

Thankfully, my parents - nor anybody else - also never told me what I could or could not do.

You Be You, I'll Be Me

Continuing on this path of growing and becoming and being one's truth self...

It has become increasing apparent to me that, in so many ways, I am the person who has boxed Sweetie so neatly into a defined package.

I also find myself speaking on Sweetie's behalf an awful lot. Not that Sweetie's disagreed with me on any points in particular - that she voices, anyway. It's just that, in a lot of ways, I make the decisions and she goes along.

I took her to her Grammy's to get a haircut a few months back, and I instructed Grammy on the length and look "we" wanted. I said I wanted it cut to a particular length, and Grammy asked if that length will be okay with Sweetie. I answered, "Oh, she doesn't care what she looks like." Grammy was surprised, "What do you mean, she doesn't care?! Of course she does!" And, as it turned out, Sweetie did care... she actually wanted her hair shorter than I said. In this particular case, she wanted a true "boy" haircut, as she was just about to perform as a boy orphan in a production of "Oliver!" To this, Grammy and I both said no - we were not drastically changing her appearance for 1 weekend's worth of shows. Grammy gave her the bobbed length I originally detailed. 

But still... I spoke for Sweetie on this, as I always have when she gets haircuts, and Sweetie went along with it just fine in the end. In fact I have never asked Sweetie how she wants her hair. I decide, and that's what happens. 

I write here all the time how great and creative and smart and funny and truly amazing Sweetie is in every possible way. Seriously, y'all must want to steal my keyboard from me by now so you don't have to hear it anymore! And, yeah, she's still pretty freakin' awesome - always will be in my eyes. But you know what? There's a different side to her that I'm seeing now that is in stark contrast to how I've always seen my Sweetie.

As her Destination Imagination team leader this year, I am getting a really up close and personal look at how she interacts with her teammates. It's a small team, consisting of Sweetie, another 4th grade girl from a neighboring town that's been with Sweetie for the past 2 years in D.I., and Sweetie's best friend from school, who is new to D.I. this year - a boy in the 5th grade. Every Friday we get together after school, and every Friday I am, 1) shocked at how loud 3 kids can be in general, and 2) appalled at Sweetie's lack of concentration, inability to sit still, and willingness to go along with the others as opposed to eagerness to speak up and present her own ideas.

Yes, I completely get that, as her mother, I see her "issues" during our meetings much more dramatically than any misbehavior that may happen by either of her 2 teammates. But still. In Sweetie, I am not seeing as much of the smart, creative, outgoing girl I thought I knew. Rather, I see her jumping up and switching seats every 5 minutes, when the other 2 stay put where they first land. I see Sweetie having trouble understanding concepts or games, where the other 2 tend to jump right in with both feet. Sweetie's misunderstandings, of course, lead to her whining, "why do they get it and I don't?!" I see her doodling and randomly calling out unrelated things, talking over me and her teammates, when I ask for specific information. And Sweetie has, by and large, taken a back seat to any real planning. She's happy and eager to go along with what is planned, but does not contribute terribly many new ideas to the group.

This is not the Sweetie I thought I knew.

Granted, I'm pretty sure I can recall that her 2 team managers from the previous years have mentioned a similar comment about Sweetie... that she goes along with the group, but rarely provides anything new. They have also casually agreed with me once or twice that it's Sweetie's social development that lags behind a bit, not her intellect. That one I do remember being a bit surprised at. How do they know? Just from 1 meeting a week a few months out of the year? They don't know my Sweetie! But, you know... at the time, and without seeing what they saw, everything's just a statement to me. In one ear, out the other.

Now, I've seen it and I'm, sadly, rather surprised.

But! No matter! DI is team led. Whatever issues they may or may not have amongst each other, is not my problem to resolve. They're a small team this year and must find ways to work together and get things done, come what may. I'm hoping that, because of the small group, I'll start to see Sweetie begin to present ideas and worthwhile contributions to their project. But... my role is really just to be there as a guardrail. Whatever happens in the end for them and their project - so be it. It'll prove to be a learning year for all of us, if nothing else.

But I digress.

Sweetie... She is more than who I've neatly boxed her as. She is who I know her to be, of course. But she is more. She is, in fact, also less. But all of this is good. As I said before. She is growing, changing, finding her place in this world. She is 10. And it's time I started giving her more room to find her way as she sees fit.

Everyday I pick out her clothes and she gets dressed. There's never an argument about this. She never complains. But maybe she'd like to pick out her own clothes sometimes. Occasionally she does this on the weekend, and she does a good job. I always dress her in pants. Maybe, if given a chance, she'd actually choose to wear a skirt sometimes to school. To be honest, it never really crossed my mind that she really cared one way or the other. Well, perhaps she cares. I should give her the chance to show off her style. To develop a style!

She wanted an American Girl Doll for Christmas, as she's wanted one for the past few Christmases. We tell her she doesn't really want one. We point out that she doesn't like to play with dolls. We convince her enough that she removes that wish from her list. No more doll. Well... maybe she does want a doll! Perhaps I and Hubby have almost, subconsciously, smothered her with the idea of how cool it is to be a tomboy of sorts. Heck - it's easier and more fun for us, anyway! Girly-girls are too princess-y. Too fawning and "weak." Too emotional and dramatic! Tomboy girls are cool and interesting and like to build and create and be the superhero! It's great to get out there and play with the boys! Go, Sweetie!

Well... maybe she has a bit of the princess in her. Who knows. Maybe she wants to explore her more feminine side of play. Maybe she wants to play house more than she does. I know she likes to sometimes play school. She loves arts and crafts. I know she enjoys playing whatever it is her few girl friends like to play. She seems to have fun playing at whatever she's given the opportunity to do. And as I keep telling her over and over, girls can do anything! Girls aren't weak and quiet! Be the girl you want to be - whatever that is, that's cool! We should allow her to explore more, I think, and if she wants something we'd classify as a more girly game or toy - so be it. This is Sweetie we're talking about, after all. Not us!

So, yes, Sweetie. As I've said before, you be you! And, with that, I'd love for you to develop your voice more. And I'm sorry if it's largely due to my actions that, at 10 years old, you've not really been given a chance to find who you really are at this point. Speak up! Show us who you want to be - who you are!

As for me... well, I'm taking 2013 to be my year. I read an article recently which stated the dreadful reality that far too many mothers on Facebook, for instance, post as their profile pics pictures of their child(ren). Mothers are hiding behind their children. They're showing the kids - not themselves. Mothers are answering that their kids are good as a response for how are they doing, indicating that "if the kids are good, I must be good too." They are posting funny/poignant/interesting/proud/maddening information about their kids as their status and rarely mentioning any details about their own lives.

And I realize - I do all of this, expertly. I am a fabulous hider. Yes, I take great care of Sweetie. I think I'm a damn good mom. But... who else am I? I really don't know the answer to that. I'm too busy taking care of her to stop and take care of me. To pay attention to who I am and what I need and want.

Well, no more. As I said. 2013 is my year! I've already started by booking myself several doctors appointments. Appointments I haven't followed through on in years. I have oh so many health related issues I've wanted to talk to my doctor about. But I haven't made the time for me before. Now - I'm about to get my health in order and get firmly on my path to wellness and feeling good. As Hubby has always said to me (but I never listened before), he and I have to be the best we can be so that we can raise a good Sweetie. If we don't show her that we care enough to take care of ourselves, what is she going to think about her own health? That it's dismissible? That she's dismissible? That others always come before yourself? That's a wonderful thought and all on the outside, but no. Take care of yourself first, always, so that you can then in turn help take care of those you love.

Happy 2013, Sweetie. The year for you. The year for me. The year we find ourselves, alone, together.

You Are 10

10. I can't believe it. In 5 more days you will be 10 years old. Wow.

I should be waiting til your actual birthday to write this post, as I've tried to do in the past. But what the hey. It seems like I and others in the family have already been considering you as a 10 year old for some time now. So it's only fitting that I'm a bit early with this post as well.

Yes, in years past whenever anyone has asked me your age, even as we get into December and the weeks and days leading up to said birthday, I've always been pretty good about saying your actual age. Sure, I may say, for instance, that you're 8, about to be 9 in so many days - but I acknowledge your actual age first, always. But this year? It seems like I've been mentioning your coming age first and foremost ever since you turned 9 1/2. "How old is she?" - "She'll be 10 in December" or "Almost 10." Now I find myself looking forward, I guess. Not keeping you grounded in the age you are, but pushing ahead to the age you're going to be.

Not that I want to push ahead at all! Absolutely not. I love you so much at every age you've been and only want your pending changes and milestones to come at the reasonable, natural clip at which they're meant to come. Nothing slower, nothing faster. Just "be" who you are, when you are, and enjoy.

And, oh, I do know you are enjoying yourself! And I also know you're changing. 10 years old - what an interesting age, to say the least. It's the age, according to both Daddy and I, when continuous life begins. Meaning he and I both only remember snippets of our lives before age 10, but from 10 on forward, we pretty much have a good running story of how our lives have been. Perhaps the same will be true for you.

For now, though, you are 10. Dancing on the thin, slick brim between carefree childhood, falling back playfully into the warm bath of innocent fun, or warily slipping off too soon into the unknown abyss of teenaged angst and drama. I see these 2 diverse worlds so dramatically in you, too. In many ways you are still such a little girl. So very full of childish wonder and imagination. People have asked, for instance, if you still believe in Santa Claus. Boy, do you ever! It honestly seems like you believe more wholeheartedly this year than any previous year. You even had me mail off a letter to the big guy in red just a few weeks ago - a step you've never asked for in the past. And, of course, we'll be paying our annual visit to Santa on your birthday, at your continued request.

I know Daddy and I are mostly to "blame" for your fervent continued faith and belief in all things magical and mystical - and that's, quite honestly, completely alright with us. Preferred, even! Intended. For not only do you believe in Santa, but the Easter Bunny and the "magic pumpkin" who visits you every Halloween as well. Wow! Your very own self-carving, note-writing pumpkin who appears at our home every Halloween season just in time for the pumpkin festival. Pretty cool! So cool, in fact, that Halloween is right up there at the top of the list, along with Christmas and Easter, of your most favorite holidays. I don't blame you. I kinda dig on Halloween too, just so I can see your excited response to your pumpkiny visitors. And to think, Daddy simply thought it would be easier, some years back, if he could just carve a pumpkin for you rather than make a big production out of setting up a family carving time to do it together. Funny how cherished family traditions can sometimes start from the silliest, "time saving" things.

Speaking of family traditions... now, this year, you've gone ahead and crafted your own popsicle stick version of the Elf on the Shelf. Your Elf hides in a different location each night, just like the "real" Elf on the Shelf. And, even though we've never had the real Elf, you sure do know your elfin rules! You must NOT ever touch it, for one thing. Also, an elf won't travel unless it has a name. Huh - how interesting! And you also know that, every night, she travels back to the North Pole to visit Santa to report on your behavior, then comes back again to another spot in our house to check in on you. For some reason, though, you got it in your brain that there'd be a prize to be had after successfully finding your elf after 5 consecutive days. Hmmmm.... I wasn't so sure about that. We told you that seemed unlikely and, sure enough, 5 days came and went without a prize. Oh well. She's still been a lot of fun to look for, and she sure has come up with a bunch of funny landing places each time she returns to the house. Looks like Miss Snowflakes is definitely a new beloved family friend and will be back to visit us for some Christmases to come.

More childlike ways you hold on to - you are still very much a cuddler. That's right - becoming a 10 year old has not yet ruined you for your willingness to love on your Daddy and I, and to show us that love often with cuddles, hugs, and kisses. Many times I'll come home from work in the evening to find you cuddled into Daddy's arms as the two of you enjoy another episode of "Phineas and Ferb." And in the mornings, you often will still, wordlessly, sneak closer and closer to me on the couch, physically taking my arms and wrapping them around your body. "Hold me with 2 hands!" you used to tell us all the time - when you were a toddler. Now, this is still what you want. Even if you aren't as vocal about it, you still demand this of us in your own way.

And as I put you to bed the other night, opening up the chapter book that Daddy and I alternately read to you each night, I wondered aloud for how much longer would you want he and I to read to you at bedtime. Without much pause, you decidedly answered that we'd have to read to you every night until you got married, which is when you'd leave the house. "Or," upon further consideration, "until I go to college, actually. But whenever I come home to visit for vacations, you'd still read to me then." Okay, Sweetie. If that's what you want. I don't know, though. I'm interested to see how long you will truly want for this nighttime ritual as time goes on.

On a more unpleasant note... your continuing childlike ways can still often lead to whines and tears. If you're frustrated about something, or don't understand something, or something simply doesn't go the way you envisioned, you often just want it to go away, and you plead for that with sad tears in your eyes. For instance, I inadvertently gave you what I thought was a simple math problem to figure out yesterday during our DI meeting. I'd asked your teammates how many cookie orders they got for their fundraiser, and they each willingly offered up how many dozen cookies that translated into (1 order = 2 dozen cookies.) So I asked you, who had a whopping 19 orders!, how many dozen cookies you had gotten. You did not know right off the bat and, in fact, used division to come up with your final answer. Your teammate, and best friend, tried to show you that you needed to use multiplication instead, and he and I both wanted to help you understand why. I even wondered aloud how a little girl who claims to love math so much could not understand the reason why multiplication leads to the correct answer here. But you just wanted to be done with the whole thing, tearfully saying that this had nothing to do with DI and couldn't we just move on.

And so we did. But I've seen this in you before. More and more you don't seem to like to be challenged. You don't like not understanding, not knowing the answer. For a kid who's always been so interested in and accepting of the mysteries and the curiosities of the world, this is certainly a change in you. Not altogether bad. Just a change. You want more. You want to understand, as others around you already seem to do, and it angers and frustrates you when you don't - or even when it takes you a bit longer than for others. I know that feeling, Sweetie, and I agree. It's not a good one. But at least, ultimately, it does challenge you to reach for those answers. Some day I know you will again feel more comfortable with the stretch, with the reach, with the investigation, and less self conscious about the initial not knowing. It's okay to not know, Sweetie. And it's okay to question. You, more than anyone else I know, have always been comfortable with this process in the past. You're such a smart kid! You'll get there again, and soon. I promise.

Yes, you are a smarty, that's for sure! Beyond the basic "school stuff" - you've always read at least a few grade levels above your actual year, and you scored darn near perfect on last year's NECAP test, especially on the math section. You also brought home your first report card of the year last week - straight A's! Well done! - you are just plain smart, creative, thoughtful and yes, still very curious. You request to watch various documentaries and Nova ScienceNow episodes, and have especially liked the ones about physics and how our universe "works." As Daddy and I sit there, saying our heads hurt from all the trying to understand, you say, "Oh, yeah. I get it. It makes sense to me... and it's so cool!" For your current daily reading selection for school, you've chosen Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. I warned that you may find the language challenging, but you wanted to try. You're more than half way through now, claiming that you both understand and love it! You and your best friend both are total knowledge geeks, both always having great days at school and proclaiming that "school rocks!" You both are excited for the coming school vacation, of course, but sad as well. "Excited for Christmas, but sad because we like school and will miss it." And speaking of Christmas, you've requested gifts of not only science kits, but also "physics" games ("physics rocks!") and math stuff. And I found some pretty cool things, I gotta tell ya! I can't wait for Christmas morning to see how you like all your gifts. Yes, you are a kid who has always liked to learn and who has already crammed a lot of information into that little head of yours - both intellectually and emotionally.

Caring. Giving. Thoughtful. Putting others before you, always. This is you, Sweetie, and a very mature you at that! And even though we are what many would call a "financially uncomfortable" household, you really don't want for anything, much. You love the toys you have, and enjoy crafting your own new ones from supplies in your craft collection. I love the board game you made, for example, called "The Opposite Game," where you travel the board moving opposite of the number you select (if you select a 4, you move 6 spaces, since 10-4=6) and the winner is the one who doesn't reach the end first. What toys and games you actually do want, you've put on your Christmas list rather than wish for it for your birthday, which is 5 days sooner. "I can wait until Christmas," you say, "because then the gifts will be free since Santa makes them, and Daddy and you don't have to buy them." Not that you don't want birthday gifts, of course. But you're not really asking for anything specific on that day. In fact, you never really ask for anything even throughout the year. We can walk past a toy section in a store, and you never turn off the main aisle. You look in toy catalogs and make a plan to save your money for what you want. You are not greedy. Daddy told me how he was asking your opinion the other night regarding one more thing he can get me for Christmas. You had pointed out to him that, well, he was getting me that one thing, and you were getting me this thing, and - oh - there's that other thing too. That's enough, isn't it? Three things is good. Even though you were talking about me, I know you'd think the same for yourself too. Three things is good. You would be happily contented with that.

I love how you show so much care and concern for others when they are sad or hurt. To see others sad or hurt hurts your own heart. You only wish for everyone to always be happy. Why can't they be? But if they're not? You're the first on the scene to help them get the care they need and to turn the situation around. You are a caretaker and a happy-maker extraordinaire!

So. 10. You're nearly there, as unbelievable as that may seem. Double digits. A whole decade! Coming closer to the end of childhood... journeying closer, ever closer, to worlds unknown. Do I wonder how you'll fair against peers who may travel at a quicker pace than you? Sure. Do I already see glimpses of teenage drama even now? Of course! But am I fearful that the young person before me doesn't already have inside her, and around her, what it takes to develop the strong, capable, independent, determined and self confident human being you already definitely are? Absolutely not!

If nothing else, Sweetie, you have always been and continue to be a very self-aware person who is not afraid to dance as if no one is watching. Sure, you may struggle with this over the next several years. Maybe you already do, in some ways. But you know, deep down, who you are and where you're headed - others be damned!

Keep on going, Sweetie. Take your time where you wish, veer off the main trail for awhile when other vistas look a bit more interesting - but always keep pushing ahead, moving forward at your own personal pace. You'll find exactly what you're looking for - often change what you're looking for - and no doubt have a lot of fun along the way.

And, for as long as you want us - and even when you don't - Daddy and I will be right there with you, pushing you, pulling you, assisting your journey in any way we can. Even when that means sometimes encouraging you to take a bit of the hike all by yourself.

You can do it, Sweetie. We know you can.