Sparks and Butterflies

October 1950: American model Joan Vohs poses for a new year greetings card. (Photo by Keystone/Getty Images)

What do I want out of the new year?  I don’t make resolutions per se.  I find them to be restrictive.  But I do have general goals.  It’s an end and a beginning, and it only makes sense to think about what you want out of your future.

I want to be more organized.  No.  I want to feel more organized.  I don’t often drop the ball, and people – from friends and family to clients – know I’ll handle the details.  But that doesn’t mean my mind is calm, or that I feel in control.  Most of the time I feel like I’m hanging on by my teeth and fingernails.  So, I’m back to doing FlyLady.  Slowly.  With baby steps.  I’m being more proactive with my business.  I’m creating plans with the emphasis on what works to implement them.

I want to feel more healthy, alert, and energetic.  Which means quitting smoking, exercising, and eating well.  As a recovering addict, the smoking is difficult.  I’ve created a step-down plan I’m working.  I’m slowly started the Couch-to-5K program.  I’ve already run into problems with that – allergies, kid care, and Poe’s sleep schedule.  I’m not quitting, I’m fixing.  Slowly.  We have to live our life as well.  I’m considering joining Weight Watchers – but I haven’t decided yet if I can afford it.  I may just use Spark People and watch what I eat.  I do well with structure, though, so we’ll see.

I need to grow spiritually.  I’m working on that.  I’m not comfortable (yet?) sharing the specifics of that, but the point is growth.  I’m working on it.

Notice I didn’t mention money?  Well, now I am.  I fully intend that 2011 will be better financially.  I’m sick and tired and mad at focusing on survival.  I want more than that for me AND my family.  I want there to be emergency savings, retirement savings, college savings, and no debt.  I no longer want to be on pins and needles as to whether there will be food money week to week.  But – I’ve decided that focusing on it doesn’t work.  Hasn’t for 2 years.  Instead – I’m focusing on me.  Not in a selfish MEMEME way – but in the attempt to create out of myself a better, healthier, happier person.  I’m hopeful that the other things, like financial prosperity, will be a natural offshoot of that.

So, here’s to a wonderful, happy, healthy, prosperous, spiritual, exciting New Year, 2011 to all of you.

We are having a bit of an issue around here that is pretty much dominating  my thoughts at the moment.

First, this job of Poe’s said he would receive (sorely needed) health insurance after his probationary period of 90 days.  That would have meant November 1st.  Right?  Yeah, not so much.  They decided to wait on him until the open enrollment period, putting his effective date on January 1, 2011.

OK.  That puts a serious crimp in things, as the kids are due for their physicals and blood work needs to be done on Joseph.  But two more months won’t kill us.

We got the paperwork.  It tells us the amount to cover family PER WEEK (he’s being paid weekly.)  I think “They just mean that’s the monthly premium, removed each week.”  You know, the monthly premium divided by four.  WRONG.

Essentially, that IS the weekly amount.  Let me explain what that means.  By the time he’s done paying for health insurance, we would have approximately $400 per month to pay rent, utilities, groceries, gas, other insurance coverage, not to mention medical copays, random school things that come up, oh and clothes for winter for the kids since Logan’s pants apparently spontaneously combust.  Since gas alone costs about $240 a month or more – you do the math.  The whole thing alone won’t even cover rent.

I’m not making that much money in my business.  Growing I am – but not THAT much.

We’ve gone to everyone we can think of, but yes, that’s the monthly amount as insane as it is.  I still cannot believe it at all.

What this essentially means is I probably have to go back to work outside the home.  Either, I need to get a job with benefits, or just a job.  Then we’d have to find private insurance (which costs about 1/4 what they’re asking for) and then save up as much money as humanely possible, because Logan won’t be covered under private insurance since he has a preexisting (actually it’s CONGENITAL) condition and won’t be covered.  His heart surgery alone (the timing of which we just don’t know) will probably run a total of $500K – $1M dollars, when you take all insurance out of the equation.  That’s a rough estimate with inflation.  We just won’t know until that time.

I just feel so defeated right now.  We can’t pay for childcare, so we’ll be going back to the Poe sleeps when the kids are at school, while I’m at work, and pray they don’t need to be picked up early.  It certainly feels like we’ll never get a break.  I just don’t understand.  We’re decent people.  We work hard.  We’re good parents.  Why do the kicks keep coming?

There was a perfect job I found and applied for. Yes, I’m building a business, but we’re struggling now. It was for a church, in the youth ministry, as the assistant to the department. I’ve been in administration for two decades, have professional experience in church and parachurch organizations, have a decade in motherhood, have children that age, and wouldn’t have to put my kids in child care. It was perfect. After a week, I called to follow up and was stonewalled by the receptionist. Tried to email but the listing was closed.

It was like God closed the door that He opened. I don’t understand.

And we’re still struggling.

I was a band geek.  From 1989-1993 I was in color guard, winter guard, field band, parade band, concert band, and drum circuit.  I started in color guard, however, I blew out my knees my freshman year, and from then on my participation was sporadically based on whether my knees could handle turns, jumps, and “jazz” runs.  Through it all, Chuck was our coach.  He smiled, laughed, yelled, got frustrated, but was always respectful, caring, and pushed us to do our best.  He showed us how.

My tribute at his obituary site:

Chuck was my coach on and off for 4 years. He arrived for his first year at La Canada High School my freshman year. When I blew out my knees and could participate in Color Guard anymore, he was kind and caring. He pushed me when he felt I wasn’t giving my best. He was patient when I didn’t understand something. And when I faked a particular move for the *entire* season because I just didn’t get it – he didn’t say a word. I trusted and respected him as a teacher. I’m so sorry for your loss.

His obituary:

Donald “Chuck” Ward Jr. (January 17, 1962 – August 21, 2010)

Post a Message of Sympathy | View Messages of Sympathy

Donald “Chuck” Ward, Jr., 48 of Los Angeles, CA. passed away in London, England on August 21, 2010 with his partner and family at his side. Chuck was a native of Lysander and a 1980 graduate of C.W. Baker High School, Baldwinsville. Chuck received his Master of Arts in Student Development from Azusa Pacific University. Chuck was a Counselor & Professor at Pasadena City College for 22 years. He was also a National Conference judge for various Marching Band and Color guard competitions. Chuck was pre-deceased by his sister, Donna L. Ward of Baldwinsville in 2009. Survivors: His partner of 20 years, Robert Cook, Jr of Los Angeles; his parents, Donald C. and Alice B. Ward of Baldwinsville; five sisters, Sally (Gordon) Clarke of Cato, Norma (Stan) Newman of Sandy Pond, Margaret Seeley of Pulaski, Nancy (Skip) Thomas of Baldwinsville and Kathy (Dave) Rode of Sterling; a great-aunt, Mildred Beebe of Baldwinsville; and several nieces and nephews. Services: Family and friends are invited to attend a graveside service on Thursday, September 2, 2010, at 11:00am in Lysander Cemetery, Lysander, NY. Contributions: PCC Scholarship Fund, C/O Cynthia D. Olivo, Ph. D., 1570 E. Colorado Blvd., Pasadena, CA. 91106.

Reality is tough around here.

Reality – my husband, if he’s home, is usually asleep.  Because he’s working while we sleep.  It’s tough.  He (and we) do it anyway.

Reality – my mother’s in the hospital.  Again.  It was touch and go for a while.  Again.  I helped my dad decide on a DNR, should it come to that.  It’s tough.

Reality – my son takes mental health medication.  He’s been off his meds for 6 days due to a medical insurance/Cobra payment  company snafu of Ginormous Proportions.  “Just pay and we’ll reimburse you.”  Sure!  Let me just grab that $900 I have lying around.  Not.  And yes, that’s what my son’s meds cost per month. It’s tough.

Life is tough.  There’s not a lot that one can actually control.  That’s rough on a control freak like myself.  I’m trying to do what I can to control what’s in the realm that I can.  So I’m organizing the household, decorating, cleaning out, trying to make sure it’s a peaceful place from the crazyness.  I’m trying to learn how to do things from scratch to save money.  I make my own laundry detergent now.  I’m learning how to make bread.  Little steps one at a time.  I’m learning more about emergency preparedness.  Unfortunately, we don’t have a lot of money right now, so certain things need to wait, but it’s on the list.

Control what you can to prepare for what you can’t.  I’m trying to do that.

I was a band geek…  No, I was a Super Band Geek!  I was in color guard (parade, field show, winter guard) and band (parade, field show, concert, and drum circuit.)  Competition was had, trophies won, new songs and moves learned, and trips taken.  Judges, and medals, uniforms, and more…  It was interesting how I pulled it off.  I truly don’t know that I would have survived high school had I not had that focus and, well, forced community.  It was an important part of my life, and a lot of things surrounding it effected the person I became today.  My family life wasn’t good at the time, and I was able to be a part of something and learn how to participate in a team.

My guard coach, Chuck, passed away recently.  I’m awaiting details, but since he was local to me, I’ll make every attempt to go to his services.  I’m sad.  Another person gone who was a part of my history.  I know that death is part of life, and I know that I wasn’t close to the man.  But still.  I knew him then, he influenced my life then, and that makes him a human being that had an effect on someone during the course of their life.  It’s okay to be sad he’s gone.

So, I started therapy last week.

Friday was therapy day.  I slogged through the morning chores etc. feeling like crap.  I figured it was my sinuses – Logan and my allergies have been acting up lately.  Major fatigue and moving really slow.  Then I had therapy in my home, which she’s doing both to keep Joseph and my therapy separate in different places, and to save me on gas.  I already go to the other therapy center 5 times a month, sometimes more.  The effort is appreciated.

I won’t discuss the content, except to say that she’s focusing a lot on my relationship with God.  This is both needed and really quite surprising considering how I know her.  I’ll take it.

After, I was just basically good for nothing.  I ended up taking what I consider a “depression nap.”  Whenever I’m mentally overwhelmed past capacity, my body shuts down and needs to sleep.  It’s not an escape hatch, it’s like it needs it.  I was even slurring my words.  I only had Joseph at home, so I was able to explain what was going on (having mental issues himself, I can word it in such a way that he gets it) and take a 2 hour nap.  I wasn’t any good the rest of the day either, but at least I was no longer slurring and was functional.  The whole weekend passed in a blur of feeling lazy and like crap and needing to sleep a lot.

Poe says that it’s my body’s way of dealing with crap I haven’t been dealing with just in order to go from one day to the next.  Now, I’m dealing with it, and my body – which has always had pronounced reactions to stress – is reacting.  Poe basically said go with it – don’t fight it – and let it do what it has to do.  In the meantime, don’t fight what’s going on in therapy, just do the work to go through rather than around.

Hmph.

I hate saying the words, “I’m in therapy.”  It feels both cliche and shaming all at once.  But I’m not letting that stop me from doing what’s needed to keep me healthy.

How is it even possible that it’s been this long since I wrote? I don’t have an excuse. The bottom line is I have so many balls up in the air that I’m having trouble juggling.

We went to church last Sunday. It was good. The kids enjoyed Sunday School. I want to get involved again. And yes, there may have been tears during worship. Music is something that connects me very much with God. We attend a denomination that is very demonstrative in their worship of God. I myself am not. It’s a very private thing for me, and I’ll admit I sometimes feel uncomfortable with the demonstrations of faith. HOWEVER – I feel blessed that our church is a place where those who feel the Spirit move them in that way are welcome, and comfortable, and able to express themselves. My discomfort is just that – my problem, not theirs.

We plan on going again this Sunday.  But there’s a hitch coming.  Why do we always have to have a hitch?  Poe’s current job is going away.  I know. But they’re apparently going to keep Poe out of everybody, and put him somewhere else.  For less money.  Again.  And this time his days are going to be Sunday – Thursday.  His hours are such that he’ll miss all the services.  Sigh.  I’m just going to have to buck up and make sure I round up the kids and go by myself when this happens.

I’m going in a different direction at Vineyard Virtual Services, which means I’m in the process of revamping that site, and doing some schooling in order to learn some of the finer points of the new direction.  Basically, I’m nitching myself into being a Virtual Author’s Assistant.  I love books, I enjoy working with authors, and I enjoy the minutia of things like editing and source lists.  It’s a good fit for me.  I knew something needed to change.

Joseph starts school Monday.  That will add some structure to our days.  Today, however, we have back to back therapy sessions, which totally sucks.  It just seems a lot longer than it actually is when there are two sessions close together.  And his therapist suggested that maybe I might want to consider separate therapy for myself.

This is the part where I laugh maniacally and ask her when would I have the time for that?  I have too many meetings for work and the kids and doctors and therapists and school pickups and grocery shopping and cleaning and billing and invoicing and work to day.

And this is the part where she says: Exactly.

She thinks I may have too much on my plate with too little a support system – especially now that Poe’s working full time.  She has a point.  We’ll see where it goes.  I start tomorrow.

I’m having a problem.

I’m not going to church.

It’s very bizarre.  It’s like I have a mental block or something.

My prayer life is better than it was.  I’m reading my Bible every day.  I’ve read it cover to cover, and now I’m reading it in chronological order.  I’m involved in an online Christian bookclub that does Bible studies.

Why can’t I go to church?  Literally, on Sunday, I don’t think of it.  We have a church.  We like the church.  It’s one of the few near us that actually lists the Bible in their Statement of Faith (which is just sad, in my opinion.)  We don’t feel it’s doctrinely unsound.  The pastor hasn’t said anything hinky.  The people were lovely and welcoming.  Joseph liked the kids’ church.

I can’t understand it.  Any thoughts?

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Check out Butterviews for BlogHer…  What caregiving is to me.  There’s a chance for a cruise at BlogHer’s roundup page – so you might want to check it out!  The post is Full Plates and Everything Else.

Back in March, my birthday came and went without a lot of fanfare.  We don’t have money right now for celebrations.  That was fine.  I was disappointed by how I felt about this birthday, 35, anyway.  Halfway through my 30′s, on my way to 40, and I was disappointed in my life.  Completely starting over financially.  “Stuck” living by my parents to help them.   Still overweight.  Still smoking.  Poor.  An unemployed husband.  No savings.  A fledgling business.  I felt like I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.

But I’m working on all of those things.  Because when I turn 40 I want to be in a place that it’s just fabulous.

But I’ve learned a lot in my 35 years on earth.

I’ve learned that the gray in my hair doesn’t bother me in the least.  I’ve learned to stop caring what others think.  Sometimes I still have to remind myself of that, but it’s true.  I don’t particularly care what you think of me.  I’ve learned that I have really broad shoulders, and I can handle a lot of responsibility.  I’ve learned that I have an inner mama-bear and can be a true advocate for my kids’ needs.  I’ve learned that I’m a loyal wife, and a loyal friend.  I’ve learned that I’m not frivolous, I’m not silly, I’m serious.  And that’s okay, as long as you have balance.  My husband creates that balance in our lives.  I’ve learned what my politics are.  I’ve also learned when I need to turn off the flow of information.  I’ve learned when I need to ask for help (although it’s still a struggle for me.)  I’ve learned more about what my personal faith is and looks like (although I’m still struggling with it.)  I’ve learned to love through the not so lovable moments.  I’ve learned that I can love and care for my family, even if I don’t particularly like them at that moment.  I’m slowly learning to let things go that don’t matter in the long run.  I’ve even learned I have a knack for home decorating – not that I have the funds to indulge in it.  I’ve learned to stand up for myself.  I’ve learned that I scare people with my bluntness, but I’ve learned that I’m never mean.  I’ve learned to tell people when I think they’re going down the wrong path, but how to make a bad haircut something positive.  Yes, you look fat in that, but man do you look fabulous in this.  No, you shouldn’t live with him first, but I’ll give you a bachelorette party to remember.  I’ve learned when to have tact, and when the superficial tact will get in the way of what someone actually needs.

So, while I’m not where I want to be in life – I know I’m working on it.  And these last 35 years have not been a waste – I’ve learned something from them.  That’s really all I can ask.