Perspective

This week was the first week of classes for the spring semester. I have two hybrid classes that meet Saturdays and online, and one class that meets entirely online. I will spend a total of 5 days on campus this semester, but those will be long (9a-4p) days of intense informational overloading. I will spend, on average, 20-35 hours per week on my computer working on school assignments or reading online information. That's in addition to about 10 hours a week of reading textbooks. Just in case you didn't think being a grad student was a full-time gig, heh. All of that's in addition to 15 hrs/wk of work for my job, and the countless, 'round-the-clock hours spent being a full-time Mom.

Yeah, I'm a busy gal when school's in full swing!

I was originally enrolled to begin classes the summer of 2010, but then I joined up with a local band and realized that one of the gigs on the band calendar directly conflicted with one of my mandatory Saturday classes, and I chose at the time to be in a band rather than be a student.

They say hindsight is 20-20, and now, looking back, I certainly wish I had chosen school over the band. I'd be finishing up this semester or next instead of just now getting to the meat of my Master's program. I'd have spared myself a lot of emotional pain and trauma if I'd gone the student route instead of the rock star route... But, then again, I'd have missed out on a lot of fun times and life-altering experiences. There's nothing quite like pouring your heart out to a roomful of strangers through song or having your name up on a casino marquis as the weekend's main attraction. If I had gone to school when I originally planned instead of trying my hand at the band business, I'd have never known what I was missing. I might have spent the rest of my life wondering... Now, I can say with certainty that I gave it a shot, and it wasn't for me.

Some people are suited for a life on the road, living paycheck to paycheck, feeding on the applause from the crowd and the free meal vouchers given as payment, but I'm much happier being rooted down, spending time with my family, and having a predictable day-to-day routine. I like that I wake up at the same time every day to put C on the bus, then I have each morning's routine, then I greet her bus again at noon. I like having due dates for school assignments, books to read on a predetermined schedule, and regular work to churn out for a paycheck. I LOVE sleeping in my own bed every night instead of shuffling from one hotel room to the next. One important thing to note, however, is that I didn't fully appreciate all of these things until I spent just over a year living an entirely different sort of life. I had to try out both to know without a doubt where I belong. I'm glad I can be so certain now.

This post is titled Perspective, but it's not just about perspective on my career path or the last year and a half. It's also about the perspective I'm given from my classes.

I'm studying to be an Early Childhood Special Educator. That means I'm being educated and trained on any number of disabilities and high-risk situations faced by children from birth through 8 years old. I'm also being educated on how children in this age range typically develop, when not affected by high-risk situations or disabilities. It's all very eye-opening, particularly in regards to my own life.

Having a child with disabilities and complex medical situations can be a real downer sometimes. It's easy to focus on how each day is more challenging or more expensive than it would have been if your child had been lucky enough to be born "typical." It's also easy to trick yourself into thinking you know all there is to know about life with disabilities.

One of the most important things I have learned from my graduate coursework is that I only know one tiny perspective. I know MY situation, but my situation differs greatly from that of every other parent out there, whether their child has any disabilities or medical challenges or not. I will never know what it's like to be the parent of a child with autism, no matter how much I study to better understand it. I will never know what it's like to be the parent of a toddler who is typically developing and going through the "terrible twos," because that wasn't my reality. I will never know what it's like to have a child with a life-threatening condition and live in constant fear that each moment could be the last. (Of course, I say I'll never know these things, but I plan on having one or two more children in the next few years, so maybe I'll get a glimpse into one of those other lives... You never know what life will bring!) I never thought I had all the answers to parenting or to parenting a child with special needs, but my classes are a constant reminder that I really don't even come close to knowing it all. They're a constant reminder that things could have been a lot better, they could have been a lot worse, or they could have just been completely different. My experiences, my challenges, my joys, and my overall perspectives... They're so tiny and isolated and unique. They are mine and mine alone, and they can't be compared to those of anyone else. It's so easy to close your mind to all the other lives around you, all the other ideas and perspectives... But I am fortunate to have regular and eye-opening reminders that my perspective is only one of millions. It's nice to be kept in check, forced to keep an open mind, and constantly challenged to try and see the world through another's eyes.

It's awfully nice to have perspective.

Going Home

My parents are great, and it's hard for me living half a country away from them. I hated not having my mom around during the pregnancy and not having my parents at the hospital the night C was born. I hated that, while I was singing with the band, they were only able to make a trip out to see me perform once. I hate being too far away for a weekend trip every now and again.

Fortunately for me, I have parents who are willing to fly C and me halfway across the country to visit when I tell them I'm homesick! :)

I have a day off of school in February and no Saturday class the weekend before, so I thought it would be nice to fly down to Austin for a week-long stay. Yes, I was just there for two weeks and got back exactly two weeks ago today... But I'm potentially flying in a friend for Spring Break, so this would be my only chance to visit between now and summer break, and frankly, I don't like being away from Mommy and Daddy for that long. So I'm going to visit!

Going home is always interesting. My mom borders on hoarding, so I never go home without a bag full of new things to bring back with me. There are only a few people in Austin that I feel compelled to see when I visit, and several others who I see every third or fourth visit, so there can be as much or as little socialization in a visit as I would like. My parents are always willing to babysit so I can have dinner out with friends, which is not a luxury we have here.

Then there's the comfort of sleeping in my old room, where I used to use AIM to chat with my then-friend-now-husband, where I daydreamed about the future, where the biggest problems I ever had to face were acne and getting grounded from the phone. Lying in bed in that room, staring at that oh-so-familiar ceiling, gazing out the windows onto my old street... It's like going back to a simpler time, long before I had to struggle with juggling medications, PTSD, or the trials of parenting a child with special needs. I feel somehow freer there, more at ease, like Mom and Dad will take care of anything that comes up, and I'm safe under their protective bubble of a roof.

I love going home, even if it's only for a week at a time, and even if it only happens a couple of times a year. I feel very fortunate that my life is blessed with the opportunity and the means to make the trip as often as I do. So yes, I've only been back for two weeks... But I'm happy that I have less than a month to wait before I'll be back there, in the safe haven of my parents' house, reconnecting with my innocence and youth.

Christmas Travels

Bright and early tomorrow morning, we'll be flying to Austin, TX for Christmas with my family. We always spend Dec. 23rd in East Texas (near Beaumont), visiting my dad's side of the family and doing presents with them. The 24th is spent in Houston, where there's a huge family gathering at my maternal grandparents' house (we're talking 40-60 people in one sprawling house in the country), where the kids do a gift exchange, everyone eats, the wine flows freely, and we sing Christmas carols in the living room. Then we drive back to Austin to spend Christmas morning at my parents' house.

Christmas is my favorite time of year, and Christmas Eve is my favorite day of the year. The family togetherness, the connection to my gajillions of cousins, the food, the singing, the warmth... It's just incredible. Sometimes, I get overwhelmed, and I have to take a few minutes to go sit in the walk-in closet in the guest suite until my nerves defray a bit, but when I come back out, no one says anything about it, and I just slip right back into the festivities. It's grand.

Last year, I missed Christmas Eve because I was on a gig with the band. This year, I'm thrilled that the hubby, C, and I will all be a part of the celebration. One year, it actually snowed in Houston on Christmas Eve, so we all went outside and sang Frosty the Snowman in the snow. It was absolutely magical.

Of course, our trip will encompass more than just Christmas with all the pieces of my family. We're staying through New Year's Eve, our anniversary, and New Year's Day, hubby's birthday. I know hubby is anxious about spending two weeks with my family (in-laws stress everyone out, even if they're great in-laws like my parents), but he's keeping the grumbling to a minimum because he knows how important this is to me. Next year, he'll be working through the Christmas season and won't be able to take off long enough to travel, so we'll be apart for Christmas. It works out that way every other year, which is why me working out of town last Christmas wasn't a big deal (except that it meant missing Christmas Eve in Houston!).

This year has been hard on our marriage. We hit some speed bumps along the way, but we pulled through it together. We renewed our vows in October, so, in a way, this is almost like our first Christmas together. Certainly it's our first Christmas since we've been this close and strong in our relationship. I can't wait!

We're celebrating a mini-Christmas tonight at home with the gifts that didn't get shipped to my parents' house. I don't think hubby sent any of my gifts to Texas, whereas I sent all but two of his down there so he'd have them to open on Christmas Day, on our anniversary, and on his birthday. We're not going to do a fancy Christmas dinner tonight or anything more than exchange gifts, really, because we're trying to cut back on spending, and it'd be foolish to cook a huge meal and have to throw away the leftovers because they'd spoil before we get back. Besides, we have to do things like pack for the trip and assemble our new guest bed tonight. ;)

I don't know how active I'll be here while we're visiting my parents. I may post a brief message or two from my cell phone if there's anything interesting to share. Hopefully I'll think to snap a picture of the New Year's Eve "hubby's birthday" fireworks over Lady Bird Lake and post that, just to be festive, but I know you'll all forgive me if I don't spend my anniversary/my husband's birthday blogging. ;)

I hope all of you have a wonderful holiday season, however you choose to spend it, and I wish you all joy and warmth in your hearts.

<3, WK

Back to Normal

Things are slowly getting back to normal around here. I slept a lot yesterday, sleeping off the exhaustion that resulted from my 13 hours of medical misadventure on Monday, and possibly fighting off a bug that seemed to be trying to worm its way through my immune system barriers. I woke up today and got C ready for school as usual... Only to then find a note in her backpack that today was a staff development day, and there would be no school. Doh!

So C went on an errand with me. What was supposed to be a quick trip to the car dealership for my 10,000 mile oil change and check-up turned into two hours of me watching her amuse herself with the various toys in the "Kids Corner" at the dealership. She bounced around from the toy trains to the toy diner, the dry-erase board to the video games to the books. Two solid hours, and not a single complaint out of her. No whining about being hungry or tired or bored... Just constant exploration and play. I have to say, I was really impressed. The time flew by just watching her amuse herself, and I actually had an enjoyable time.

I also was able to order a can of touch-up paint for the two "oops!" spots on my car. (Oops.)

When we got home, I had about two hours to go until I had to leave to take my final exam for my Serving Individuals With Disabilities and Their Families class (long name, eh?). I reviewed my lecture notes and watched a little Law & Order while C played in her room. Hubby came home with Starbucks for me (yay!), I made the hour-long commute to school (boo), and I finished the exam in 20 minutes (whew!). Then I drove back home, the fall semester officially behind me and a glorious Christmas break beginning.

C has school tomorrow, then next Mon - Thurs, and then she's on break for the holidays, too. We're spending almost the entire break with my family in Texas, and I can't wait. It's a little bit tiring to be there with C for extended periods because their house isn't kid-proofed and doesn't really have anywhere where we can let her run free and play, so there's a lot of chasing C around the house and redirecting her back toward appropriate play things and safe areas. She also doesn't sleep much there, so that's a bonus. =/ All that being said, I am REALLY looking forward to my trip "home," to seeing friends and family, to Christmas Eve at Maw-Maw & Paw-Paw's (an ENORMOUS family event!), and to a very special anniversary night off from parenting to enjoy being with my husband.

The only bad news today is that hubby still hasn't been able to get his referral to a neurologist about his migraines, and C still hasn't passed the penny, which means more x-rays to make sure it's not now lodged somewhere in her gastrointestinal tract. I swear, she's going to be glowing by Christmas at the rate she's going!

So, Yesterday Pretty Much Sucked...

Seriously, I can't remember any day as hard, aside from C's first two surgeries, which were both major surgeries that lasted a long time, and holding myself together in the surgical waiting area for hours seemed nigh impossible. Once again, though, I pulled through, C pulled through with flying colors (this is why I call her a warrior!), and the emergencies have all passed.

Miraculously, although I was on the verge several times, I didn't shed a single tear during or after my crazy day. I wanted to cry when I left my husband to fend for himself at Urgent Care, and again when I found out they were sending him to the ER. I wanted to cry when they told me that C's coin could have ruptured her GI tract and might leave a hole in her esophagus, and again when the surgery took twice as long as the time they quoted me and I still hadn't heard anything.

The hardest part for me was being so torn between the need to be there for my daughter in one city and the need to be there for my husband in another, and having to choose between the two. I just wish the crises had occurred just one day apart so I could have done right by both of them. Instead, I took care of my daughter and left hubby to fend for himself, which was the right choice, but which still felt like choosing one love over another... Which broke my heart.

At 9:00, they told us we'd be staying the night in the hospital. At 9:30, they said it would depend on how well C tolerated liquids. By 10:20, we were on our way home. Mind you, my day started with an x-ray order picked up at 9:00 and an x-ray performed at 9:30. I was on high alert ALL DAY LONG, over 12 hours. I got through it by texting hubby frequently to give him updates and get updates on his medical situation, calling my mom a couple of times, and texting/talking to one of my very best friends in OK, who somehow manages to be the calming spirit in my chaotic life from thousands of miles away. Bless her for being her! I didn't have a single anxiety pill all day. I suppose I could have asked for one at the hospital, but it never even occurred to me... And now I'm proud of myself for staying strong through a whole mess of a day without any meds. Bonus points for me!

C is back at school today, and hubby is back at work. It's almost as if yesterday never happened. The only lingering effect is that I had one hellish nightmare that I'm having trouble shaking this morning (it feels like real memories instead of a dream), but that's fading as the clock ticks on. It was clearly just a manifestation of all of yesterday's anxiety into a horrible people-killing-each-other dream.

I found a LOT of encouragement and support from Twitter yesterday. I was posting to keep my mind and fingers occupied during the long waits, and I was surprised at how many people sent prayers and kind thoughts out to a complete stranger who was having a rough day. It reminded me about the good side of the internet, the companionship and support and help that are out there amidst the scams and porn and shopping sites. It reminded me of the wonderful people of the world, and made me grateful that they're out there and haven't been beaten down by the horrible people. It helped a lot.

Now, I move forward with life. Yesterday, awful as it was, is over and behind me, and there are no lasting crises. I get to move back into my role as wife and mother without all the hysteria and medical questions thrown my way. Yesterday, I felt like my family was fractured and in peril. Today, we are whole and safe again.

Crises Abound!

I am writing this from Renown Hospital in Reno, where C is being admitted for an emergent surgery, scheduled 30 minutes ago, to remove a coin that has been lodged in her throat for at least two weeks. I spent all morning at the hospital at home waiting for it to get lined up, was sent home to wait, and found out five minutes after I got home that hubby needed a ride to Urgent Care. I was in the waiting room with him when I got the call to drive to Reno. Just after I left, Urgent Care sent him to the ER. Why do they both have to need me at the same time? Couldn't just one of these emergencies have come tomorrow so I can be there for both of my loves? I had to act too fast to think to grab an anxiety pill, so I'm left to get through both situations all on my own. Today is not one of the easy days. Wait... Have I ever had a truly easy day?