Thanksgiving. Again. Keeps coming back...

5:18Am on Thanksgiving and I've been up an hour already.  Yippee.  This day.  This single day of every year just tears me down.  It's always my very least favorite day.  Remember, last years post??  I pretty much have the same awesome attitude.    This year I decided that life was too hard and I would just shut down a couple days ago.  I mean, I was up and taking care of kids and doing my daily routine but I had very little to say and so many tears over nothing.  Then, yesterday afternoon, it hit me.  Thanksgiving is this week!  See, that's how little I think about it.  I literally blocked the entire holiday from my brain and had no idea it was coming the next day.  Once I had this huge revelation in life, I actually started to feel better.  I started to think that at least there was an answer to my uncontrollable anxiety and sadness.  Like I said last year, this day for me represents all the struggle in my past and even present.  Its a day that hurts my soul.  I can quite literally feel all the hard things I've been through creep back through my body.  Trust me, I'm all about wading through the struggle.  I love people that have been to hell and back.  I love people that fought their way out of  or through something.   I like tough people.  I'm drawn to people who know how to figure things out.  That is my commonality with so many people.  "We can do hard things." That's what Glennon Melton, who is my favorite blogger and would probs be my BFF if we actually knew each other says.  Its simple and its true and its on repeat in my brain today.  

I believe we are our own story.  We are involved in every step of it and we participate in most of it.  However, its always changing.  We do not have to be our past, we can still mold our present and our future is yet to be determined.  I may have been a very, very sick adolescent and young adult.  I may have spent way too many years putting all my energy into an illness that stole so much time from me.  I may have been scared and weak and sick and vulnerable and had no voice.  I can and will own the fact that I literally almost ruined my body and starved it and broke it down to the point of it hardly functioning.  I put my family through hell.  I was a closed book that let nobody in.  I was lonely.  I was in a world by myself surrounded by a so many loving arms.  Today, I can feel that girl.  Today, I remember that life.  Today, it hurts.  Today, I remember it all.  

Here is the good news.  I'm not her anymore.  I did hard things.  I made it to the other side.  I. am. not. that. girl. anymore.  And, I don't ever have to be again.  That's the best part.  I can decide this.  I do have a voice.  I do have an opinion.  I have a body that is strong enough to sustain the life I lead and I am now living in a world that I participate in.  My family knows me. My family understands who I am. I've created a circle of "my people."  They know who they are.  My family and "my people" are the most important part of  my life.  I need them.   I count on them.  They are there.  And, there is nothing in the world I wouldn't do for them.

I don't know what the future holds.  I don't know what tomorrow will bring but I do know that I'll be an active participant in it… most days.   I look forward to whats coming next.  This world is full of surprises and challenges and there is one thing I do know for sure- I can do it.  And, by "it", I mean life. Even on the days I don't want to, because that definitely happens, but I know, I really can do it.  All the hard things.  

So, today.  Thanksgiving.  Now that I have sorted through all the crazy, I do realize I am the proud mother of three of the cutest small humans on the planet.  And, they are fired up about Thanksgiving.  Of course they are…  Easton came home yesterday wearing this Turkey vest thing made out of a paper bag and feathers on his head.  Oh, yes he did.   He isn't sure what kind of chicken he will eat today and he actually hates potatoes but other than that- he is ready to roll.   I am thankful for Easton and his fight to live every day of my life.  I don't need a day to announce that but I will because after all, it is just another day.  That little boy is my living, breathing miracle.  He's got more strength and courage that I could ever dream of.  He may drive me insane and scream all day- but he fought to be here so he is just making his mark.  Loudly.  I'm lucky to not only be his mother but to watch the way he lives.  Paige knows more about Thanksgiving and what it means than I do because as it turns out- Its not just about how Lindsay hates the day!  Shocking, I know.  She is also always real excited about anything that involves food and an outing, so today is fantastic for her.  Oh, and she heard about "this really awesome parade" that she can't wait to watch on TV.  Bless her.  Today I will curl her hair and dress her up and paint her nails and Thank God that I actually got a daughter- and that it was Paige, the perfect girl for me.  I pray she never has have the struggles I have but most of all- I hope she sees her Mama as an example of how to rise to the occasion and to do hard things.  I hope I'm teaching her the way.   Carter is not pleased about having to eat Thanksgiving food because he hates it all and he is gonna be real ticked about the line at Zehnders in Frankenmuth!  Atta' boy.  He can stick with me today because we have sweet matching attitudes!  Carter did say he is very happy about four days off of school so his world isn't totally terrible.  He is so my boy. That first born baby changes every ones life.  He gave me something greater than myself to focus on.  He gave me a reason.  A reason for so many things.  He changed my world in ways he will never know.  A Mama's boy he will be.  

Today's plans include fitness first, obvi.  Then family and Frankenmuth for dinner.  I promise to smile and try very hard to enjoy most of today.  I also am going to try very hard to pretend to love riding on horse drawn carriages in the freezing cold with wet snow and wind blowing in my face in the dark- if my kids happen to win the battle of dragging me around downtown Frankenmuth tonight.  I said, try.  We can do hard things, right?

There you have it.   #truthtelling.   I am not afraid to put it all out there because I know we all have struggles.  Although I do enjoy Instagram and Facebook so much, I do not believe half of the perfect little pictures that are painted.  If your life is really that perfect- Congratulations. That's pretty awesome. Mine is also very awesome and messy and insane and wonderful and crazy and real.  I'm just going to continue trying to keep on swimming over here in Goodrich, Michigan if you need me!

Happy Day!

Oh, and I know you are all on the edge of your seats waiting for the Matlock/Clark/Gomez matching pajama staircase picture.  Don't worry- we won't let you down. 

Its 5:30AM on a Saturday.  I don’t have to leave my house until 8:45AM but I’m up.  Earlier this week I got up at 3:30AM one day and 4:00AM a couple others so today must be my lucky day.  I slept in.  Lately, I’m always awake.  I’m awake fifty times a night.  I’m awake all day.  I literally spend very little times with these eyes closed.  I have anxiety.  Always have.  Comes and goes.  These days, I’ve got so much that I am convinced an entire bottle of Xanax would have no fighting chance at it.  It sucks, its not fun, my heart feels like its beating outside my body but there are days where you really do have to dig deep and rise up.  You know, embrace the struggle.   I’ve not seen my husband in two days.  He is here while we sleep but he is coming home after the kids and I are in bed and leaving before we are up.  I get it- it is his busy time of the year for work.  I know he is working for us and I’m doing my best by just trying to keep my mouth shut (which if you know me- is no easy task) and take care of these little humans that need me to… with or without sleep.  Here is why, I’ve learned that they could care less if I’m tired or anxious.   They still want help with things and to eat and to fight with each other and to have someone say their prayers and to complain and to eat again and to fight again and well, you get it.  They need me, no matter what.  Lets be clear, I said I’m trying.  I’ll tell you about Monday.  It went like this.  I was up all night.  I went to get out of bed and get my kids ready for their days and I was in a zombie like mode.  They wouldn’t listen.  They literally acted like I wasn’t even speaking. I had a headache too.  So, I went a little bat shit crazy on them.  I yelled at them.  I slammed doors.  I cried in my closet.   I made Matt “handle this shit” and be late to work.  It was really awesome.  One of my finer moments in life.  I decided I hated them all and that they could just figure this whole morning- do a million things and don’t miss the bus- thing out on their own.  Yeah, it was ugly.  Once I heard the door chimes signaling the coast was clear and they were all gone, I emerged from my closet to land in my bed where I stayed for three hours…even though I was supposed to be at work.  That was it.  I had a limit for functioning as a human and I had hit it.  I gave myself a break.  For three whole hours.  I stared at the wall, I closed my eyes, I felt sorry for myself and then I got up.  I dried the tears, put on some clothes and went into work.  I spent a couple of hours doing the things I needed to do there and then I hit the gym for a workout so intense that I could focus on nothing but that and trying not to die.  As soon as I survived that, I ran off to pick up my kids.  I bought them a pizza for dinner as a peace offering for my behavior in the morning and took them to FroYo for desert.  But, here is the thing.  They weren’t even mad.  Kids are so  forgiving.  They didn’t mention one single word about me flipping out.  They got off that bus pumped that there was pizza in the car and told me all about their days.   We should all be more like that.  Nobody is perfect and they teach me so many lessons.  They loved me the same at 4:30PM that day as they did that morning and every other day.  They are loving and accepting.  They are who we should all be.

I’m not proud of that story.  I didn’t write that story because I think any part of it is awesome.  I wrote it because its real.  I wrote it because you don’t see many of these stories on Instagram and Facebook.  I wrote it because I think so many people are over scheduled with work and kids activities and social obligations and everything else and we all feel like we just can’t hang on some days.  Maybe, a lot of days.  But, rest assured that many of us are hanging on to a rapidly fraying rope as well so you are not alone.  And, if nobody else will admit this to you- I will.  My rope is a frayin’ but Lord knows I got a tight grip.   As my favorite blogger, Glennon Melton says, “We can do hard things.”  And, sometimes just getting through the day is a hard thing!

Its not all bad.  Life is pretty good too.  There is a balance.  I talk about the ebb and flow.  I seem to ebb a lot, but I flow too.  In the end, we have to look for the good.  Here are a few good things that have been going on with the ones that teach me all about life.

Paige.  This girl.  She is constant.  I actually believe she really knows more about who she is and has a better grip on some realities than some women will ever have.   This beautiful, long blonde haired dream of a girl needed a Halloween costume.  This is always an adventure with her.  One on one, I take her to the store.  We walk all the way around this store where she makes several obseravtions and comments including, “I’m never, ever, ever doing that Princess ‘thing!’”  Okey dokey, nobody said you had to.  Then I show her a few other things I like which she replies with, “There has got to be another store around here.”  Sure thing, doll.  So, we rolled on over across the street to store number 2.  Truthfully, store number 2 was better.  They had a cool Cheetah thing, and a cute Bumble bee and a lot of cute non-princess but still girly things.  Paige carefully examines the entire store and decides that she will be a Pink Power Ranger.  With a mask.  That covers her face and hair.  I said, “You cannot be serious.”  Oh, she was.  Serious as a heart attack.  She said she isn’t going to be like every other person in her class.  Shes real “into” Power Rangers and that’s her choice and can we just get it and go home.  She had me at not wanting to be like everyone else.  I respect that.  Can’t imagine where she gets that?!  So, yeah.  My daughter mixed in with my two rough boys is going to wear a plastic mask on her face and be a Pink Power Ranger.  At least its pink!  I must add this.   Later that night I was standing in the kitchen and she says, “Mom, I just love, love, love your pants!”  (They were lulu leggings, obvi.)  I said thanks and kept doing what I was doing.  She then says, “So, yeah.  I really like them and I was wondering when I can start wearing lulu.  I’m ready.”  Matt’s jaw and heart are still on the floor of my kitchen.  #proudmoment

Easton.  Man, this kid is so much work.  He is always in trouble.  They told me in the NICU that these little miracles are always a lot of work.  I should have prepared myself a little better.  Those people don’t lie.  However, he is the funny one of our group.  He says the funniest things.   He is beyond cute and he likes to be a little different himself.   Since October 1, he has been adamant that he has to have a big white pumpkin.  Not orange

 
friends, white.  Asked him why, he said “because.”  Good enough.  He now has two pumpkins…. A big white pumpkin and little orange one to carve:)   The leaves are changing and we have this really bright yellow tree across the street.  Earlier this week, Easton was walking out to the car and said “Hey dad, see that tree?  Jesus lit it up.”  Duh.  I’m telling you- this kid knows things.  You should all try to buddy up to this one.  He’s got connections and he is gonna keep us all safe!

Carter.  My first born sweet boy.  Thanks to him, I’ve learned so much about pollination and photosynthesis and leaves and stems and chlorophyll and life cycles of plants.  I was a little bent I couldn’t get a copy of that science test because I’m positive I would have nailed it!  He also went to school yesterday with no loose teeth and handed me a tooth when he got off the bus.  Weird, but ok.  He asked me recently if I would ever rent a camper and take him camping.  I said never in his life would I do that.  Guess what,  six days later his best friend invited him to go camping for a night in their RV and go trick or treating while he is there!  I owe a little thanks to the man upstairs for saving me on this one!  Or Carter, maybe Carter owes him because we all know I was probs not going camping.  Ever.  I’m just so happy he gets to go and so is he!  Yay.

 

Yesterday I got into a 20 min long wrestling match with a barbell that weighed the same as me.  I managed to lift it, squat it,  throw it over my head, and swear at it 141 times in that 20 minutes.  Now, that was a good time.  <3  Also, I have hot pink nails that make me smile and its almost an acceptable time for me to start bolting to Florida once a month. 

Life is hard.  Its always gonna be.  Just gotta look for that silver lining some days. 

Have a great day and remember:  the struggle is real!  Hang in there!

Just Keep Swimming…

The adventures continue over here at the Clark House.  My dearest friend always tells me, “Go big or go home,” and Lord knows, I’d hate to let her down.

Naturally, Easton is the one to stir the pot the most but allow me to just try to paint a picture of the last three weeks here!

 It all started one fine Saturday at Crossfit when I thought I would just try to throw a 72 pound kettle bell onto my shoulder to see if I could.  Sadly, it did not go as well as planned and landed on my foot!  I ran out of the building crying and threw a small tantrum in front of the building before regaining my composure and completing a 45 min WOD on it.  So very smart.  Later in the day, I took my blue and throbbing foot in for an X-ray to find out that the bone right next to my big toe was cracked.  That’s right, cracked not broke because as I like to say, I’m #unbreakable.  This put quite a damper on my style as I had to wear this awesome boot (that was most definitely made for walking and working out and dancing and shopping) but really hurt my squatting abilities!  Basically, it was just a major pain in my butt. 

About a week later, the wind blew in Goodrich and knocked our power out.  For more than 2 days.  We were incredibly lucky to be one of only twenty five houses in the area to lose power.  Naturally, Matt had purchased $300 worth of groceries only hours earlier.  I don’t know about you but I do not like to put away my groceries when I buy them but loading them into coolers and then to my parents house and then back to my house- was extremely fun.  Oh, and we live with Easton who is petrified of almost everything and no lights was no fun for this little guy!  We finally did borrow a generator and Matt may or may not have burned a permanent scar into the side of his leg!

The power comes back on at 12:30AM on August 16.  At approximately 12:45AM, Easton wakes up crying and holding his head with the worst headache ever and a fever.  Awesome.  We give him some Motrin and don’t think much of it.  The next morning he is not right.  Super lethargic, 104 temp, and just not coming out of it.  Matt had plans for the day so I sent him on his way but just started to get a bad feeling about Easton.  He always gets “really” sick when he gets sick but I just didn’t like what I was seeing.  Eventually around dinner time, I asked Matt to come home and bring me some Pedialite because I didn’t even think I could put him in my car.  The temps continued to spike through the night but I had to switch focus quickly because at 7am the next morning, Carter was having Oral Surgery where they were using IV sedation while extracting four teeth and clipping his tongue tie.  Matt was supposed to go with me because I hate seeing my kids under sedation but when your other kid has to steal every ones thunder and be 104.3 the morning of surgery- you gotta go alone!  Carter ended up doing great, just took awhile for the Anesthesia to wear off because he is so little and probably felt the need to freak me out just a little bit.

I spent the rest of that morning and into the afternoon taking care of both boys with the help of my assistant Paige, who was wearing a Doc McStuffins lab coat.  By 4:00, Carter was great and acting normal but Easton spiked a temp of 104.7 and was complaining of neck pain.  I don’t really do ER unless its for Paige to get stitches.  I hate ER.  I’ve actually always managed to get my kids a direct admit from the Pediatrician every time we have had an admission but not this time.  My normal Pediatrician was not in so when I called about his fever and symptoms- the backup refused to even see him and sent us straight to ER.  Once we were back in  the room, it became clear pretty quickly that he was not going to go home.  Of course, I was not prepared and brought nothing that would get us through a FIVE day stay.  The initial concern was Meningitis which meant he had to have a spinal tap.  Not fun.  So sad and scary for him and us.  Nobody wants to see their child in pain yet I knew that he wasn’t just “sick.”  He is my Easton and I know my Easton.  He wasn’t OK. 

I want to stop and say something that I find interesting.  On August 1, my friend Kim had her baby earlier than expected and way smaller than expected.  Sweet Sloan had to be admitted to the NICU for a week.  I talk a lot about the NICU.  When someone I know has a baby there, I call all my nurse friends to keep watch.  I hang out with NICU nurses all the time.  I love the NICU.  What I didn’t realize…Is I don’t actually “do” the NICU.  I used to take E on his birthdays.  I used to go visit the first few months after he was born.  As time went on- I quit.  I don’t like it there.  The air is thick.  I can’t breathe near the hand washing station and it makes my heart beat too fast.  I am so grateful to that NICU but I cannot go there.  And, then I had to.  When your best friend has a baby in the hospital- you have to go.  Its not really something you can wiggle out of.  Its mandatory.  Like, make or break your friendship kind of stuff.  So, I went.  I had more anxiety than I knew what to do with- but I  did it.  Four times.  The reason I bring this up is because I truly believe God prepares you for hard things.  I had no way of knowing that I was going to see my Miracle Baby back in a hospital bed on too many drugs not knowing what was wrong with him in just two short weeks.  Sloan forced me to get back in the environment that terrifies me.  She helped prepare me for the 2^nd floor at Hurley.  Again.  

Watching the team diagnose Easton was so interesting.  We were dealing with an Infectious Disease Doctor who was really on top of his game.  He checked for everything.  It was so frustrating to watch everything come back negative when clearly something, somewhere was positive.  It felt like so much time was passing and nothing was happening except the fevers were getting higher and harder to break.  Having a sick baby is so hard.  But, having a sick child is worse!  This was the first time Easton was old enough to fight back.  He didn’t want to be poked, or swabbed or “shotted.”  He was terrified and in pain and begging and pleading for people to “quit hurting me pretty please!  I’m a good boy!”  It was heartbreaking.  It was a desperate feeling for me because I had to allow people to do things to him and even help in most processes and he is not old enough to understand why I can’t save him.  It’s a very different experience to deal with a sick baby versus child.  I wish I didn’t know. 

Easton was admitted on Monday.  On Wednesday, a culture came back positive for Adnovirus.   He was already on three IV antibiotics and an Antiviral medication.  With this result- they stopped all antibiotics.  Matt looked and me as soon as we were told about the virus and said, “that’s not it.”  Yes, the culture was positive.  Yes, he had Adnovirus but as parents- we knew that wasn’t it.  The gut feeling said there was more.  In true Easton style, 30 minutes after stopping all Antibiotics, his ear ruptured a very disturbing substance.  It took about 5 minutes to culture that and re-start all antibiotics.  It was the missing link.  The pain in his neck was actually right below his ear… but still his neck.  He is a very dialed in four year old.  He never wavered from his stance on pain and complaints.He knew where the problem was the whole time.  It just took the rest of us awhile to find it… but he knew.  This rupture was exactly what we needed to be able to finally help him.  A CT scan was ordered that showed infection in the bone and the culture was positive for Staph.  Boom.  An answer.  That’s all we needed to get this boy better.  He was such a champ.  He was really weak and in a lot of pain most of the time but once that final fever broke- he was ready to play some basketball and he never looked back.  That was it.  Like nothing ever happened.  He’s not bitter,  or mad or even upset about it.  He just rolls with it and he is the strongest most tolerant human being alive.  This, I know for sure. 

 






 

Easton has had two staph infections, 5 stomach flus, infectious mononucleosis and a bone infection as well as countless ear infections in the last 5 months.  We had a full blood panel drawn by an Immunologist on Thursday and are just waiting on those results.  It’s a journey with this kid.  There are so many things in life I doubt.  I worry constantly about my ability to do certain things or decisions I make but there is one thing this last episode taught me… I can do Easton.  From day one, I promised him that if he survived, I would do anything for him.  Sometimes I get overwhelmed but I really do have him.  No matter where he takes us- I got him.  He was made for me. 

I also cannot fail to mention the incredible care we received.  No, its not because I am a Board Member.  Nobody even knows that.  From everyone in ER to all of his doctors, nurses and residents- we were blown away.  The nurses were so loving and patient and kind.  They helped me care for him when I wasn't sure I was doing ok and then they listened to me when I had a gut feeling or needed help.  The Child Life Specialists were like magicians.  They literally showed up every time something was about to go down and we needed help.  It was the best care I could have imagined.  I still do love Hurley.  Here is what happens though- they all take great care of you and then your child is better and you go home.  So…. you say, "Thanks??"  That word is not enough.  Its not enough for picking up my sick boy and caring him to his bed from the stretcher because he was too weak to walk- even though she had no idea what disease he had.  It is not enough for the nurses that helped me change his bed 12 times a day or held the bucket when I couldn't.  Or for the Dr. who got paged every time that fever spiked over 104 and came back in to re-examine him to try and find the missing link.  Or for the child life specialists' who have the best distract tactics in the world when scary things are coming.  Our hearts are overflowing with gratitude.  There really are no words.  

Oh, and Facebook.  Facebook is an entertaining social media outlet.  I enjoy seeing what people are up to.  However, when it comes to Easton there is a major following.  It started back in the NICU days when it seemed the easiest way to update.  I swear we feel the love and prayers from people near and far and they work.  The support system we have as a family is unlike anything I ever dreamed.  I personally read every single post and appreciate all calls, texts, visits and voicemails.  We need you and you never let us down.  Thank you, Team Easton!

As of today, we are all good again!  One week left of summer and we are waiting for the madness of new school schedules to kick in.  Paige has Dance Team and Cheerleading.  Carter has football and Easton has soccer.  As much as I like summer- I do love a little structure.  The Clarks are like a hot mess these days.  We need a routine to get our booties back in line.

One. Of . A. Kind.

Until next time, we will just keep swimming!