We're getting a dog

I know what you're thinking.  Catherine, you have four kids, and your husband is getting ready to deploy, perhaps this isn't the optimal time to add another piece to the chaotic jigsaw puzzle that is your life.  I hear you (and the other people who have also voiced this concern).  I do understand the concern, but I think that with some of the emotional unrest and familial upheaval we're hurling rapidly towards, a dog will be somewhat centering and therapeutic.  The bigs will have some extra responsibility, we'll have a sweet little dog to cuddle and spoil while Will is gone, and she just might help A to deal with some of her big emotions as she transitions into middle school (How on earth did middle school show up so quickly?).

I know that many of my friends and family are huge advocates of animal rescue.  I am, too!  I wanted nothing more than to offer a loving home to a dog in need.  I am sorry to say that we failed at our attempt to go that route.  It wasn't from lack of effort on my part, so I do hope we'll be forgiven.  I've been searching for a while.  I've scoured dog rescue websites, placed applications (always a few too far down the list to get the dog requested), I've gone through the process of having references called (Shout out to my amazing references!  I love you guys!) as a means of being pre-approved for a dog, and I've made multiple attempts to take in dogs in need of re-homing.  I also found that it can be hard to rescue with small children in the home.  So many of the dogs were listed with the caveat that they should go to either childless homes or homes with older children.  I hope that our next dog will be a rescue or even a foster.  

We have chosen a very loving breeder, who clearly cares for all of her puppies and their parents.  A friend recently picked up a puppy from her farm and had such a lovely experience that we felt comfortable going through her, too.  Today, we met our sweet puppy!  Her name is Luna Lovegood Kousma.  Her name is an obvious homage to Harry Potter for us.  I know that Lovegood sounds a bit sketchy (something that Will pointed out) if you're not a fan of HP.  I promise, there's nothing untoward going on here. :)

She's half Maltese, a quarter Shih-Tzu, and a quarter Poodle.  We won't get to take her home until the end of the month, but we are head-over-heels for her.  She will be small-ish (probably around 10-12 lbs), sheddless-ish, super smart, loving, and she will grow up around our somewhat [read: super] loud home.  We can't wait to bring her home.  I haven't seen the kids so excited in ages.  We're taking small wins at this point, and she feels like a HUGE win from our point of view.  

About Today

Today was one of those days where *almost* everything that could go wrong, went wrong.  My patience, sanity, and everything else were tested.  Spoiler alert: it ended pretty stinking well, so we'll call it a wash/win.

First off, never trust two toddlers giggling in your shoe closet.  If they're anything like my toddlers, they're dumping half a sippy cup of milk all over your shoes and playing in it.  I almost wish someone could have taken a picture of my face the moment I discovered them.  It wouldn't have been pretty.  The look of horror would surely be amusing though.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  Don't worry, I cleaned up the milk, children, and shoes.  It felt like a rough start to the morning, but it was early, so I was still optimistic.

About an hour later, my potty training three year old (almost four...*"Lord, beer me strength" with this kid!) decided to pee all over the the dining room floor and on top of the blankets and pillows he had brought in there.  You've never met a kid who was more aware of his need to urinate at nap time/bedtime.  He's a super smart kid.  Sometimes it feels like he anger pees because I've annoyed him in some way.  I'm sure that's not the case, but it definitely felt true at that moment.  Once again, the child, floor, and blankets/pillows were washed.

In case you're keeping track, that is
Day: 2
Catherine: 0

About an hour after the second issue (it just seemed to work that way today), my three year old announced that he needed to go potty.  Obviously, I told him that he should go.  I don't like to hover, so I didn't hang out in the bathroom with him.  Bad call.  He decided that the day hadn't been action packed enough.  He unrolled a mega roll of toilet paper, shoved it into the toilet, and repeatedly flushed.  He then announced that the toilet was broken, because it wouldn't accept the full roll of toilet paper.  At this point, I am beside myself.  I don't think it will shock anyone to find out that I'm a girly girl.  I don't enjoy cleaning toilets, much less being elbow deep in one because my toddler has decided to test its capacity for toilet paper.  My big kids were at the park, so I was trying to keep the toddlers out of the totally gross bathroom while also trying to take care of the problem.

Day: 3
Catherine: perhaps negative something at this point?

A friend texted with happy news only to be met with my Debbie Downer day rundown.  I thank God for her, she then called to see if she could take my kids to lunch.  If Will hadn't been on his way home with lunch, I would have jumped at the opportunity.  I don't always accept help, but I was a complete mess at that point.

Day: 3
Catherine: at least a 1, maybe even a 1.5

I went outside to mow the lawn when Will got home from work.  I'm actually super allergic to grass, but I needed to get outside and I wasn't going to pass up kid-free time with noise canceling headphones and good music.

I think the score stays about the same here.  Again, I'm not exactly a yard work kind of girl.

Tonight, we went to the pool with friends from church.  I watched my second born jump off the diving board and go down the slide somewhat fearlessly (++), I watched my oldest (who struggles socially) play nicely with other kids who are a year or two older than her (++), I watched Will play with the littles (++), I saw and talked to friends who make my heart happy and who I think also enjoyed my company (+++).

Day: 3
Catherine: 10.5

Now, my babies (all happy and worn out from fun with friends) are all tucked in their beds, and I'm enjoying Netflix and time with Will (++++++).  I'm so grateful that he was still in town today when I needed him.  It won't be the case for long, so I'm going to cherish this time together.

If you made it through the novel that is this post (THANK YOU!), I wrote all of this because sometimes it's good to remind myself, and maybe you, that there are so many things to be grateful for even on the crappy days.  I was at my wit's end the first half of the day.  I haven't been sleeping well, and I think my kids can sense that things are hard right now.  I made it through the day, and we even made some great memories.

Final count
Day: 3
Catherine: 17 --> I decided to round up

*"Lord, beer me strength" is a quote from The Office (U.S.).  I use it often.  Don't worry, no alcohol was consumed here this morning.  ;) 

The Worst Military Spouse

My husband is deploying soon.  The orders were sudden and very unexpected.  I can't really say much about it other than that.  This is a totally normal situation for most military spouses, and I really do get that.  I feel like a petulant child for complaining at all, but here we are.  He's deployed before, but it was for a very short time period, and he volunteered for that deployment.  We had so much time to plan for it, and we only had two children at the time.  

I'm dealing with it in a variety of ways: stress cleaning, stress cooking/baking, pretending to keep it together (the degree to which I am successful from moment to moment obviously varies quite a bit), and spending a lot of time awake at night watching shows and movies I've seen a million times.  I'm praying for sanity, patience, and acceptance, but I am struggling.  

He's my best friend, and my partner in crime.  He sees me when I'm at my wit's end and utterly unlovable, and still chooses to love me.  If we were given the option, I would gladly pack up the kids and go with him (even though this place wouldn't be in the top 100 places I'd choose to live willingly) just so we didn't have to be apart.  The idea of not seeing him for over a year is unbearable.  Add to that the four little broken hearts I'll be tending to at home, and you can imagine the struggle.  Every time we do something as a family, I'm reminded that the next time we do that thing, he won't be there.  

I am not writing this for pity.  I don't want anyone to feel bad for me or our family. If anything, it's a request for grace or an attempt to be heard.  I'm sure there are a ton of military spouses like me who struggle to keep it together.  I will be trying my best, but I will undoubtedly struggle to make the mark regularly.  I might not be the best friend in the world while he's gone.  I will definitely struggle to be the mother I want to be to my children while he's gone.  I will be walking a fine line emotionally, so please don't feel like you need to mention his absence or tell me how strong I must be.  Honestly, either of those things might open the floodgates, and I'm not sure when I'll be able to close them once they've opened.

I know that I and WE will come out stronger at the end of all this.  I understand that people do this all the time.  This situation is not unique to us.  We will survive.  I just kind of hate everything right now.    

Enough

I've never hidden the fact that I struggle with major depression.  I have been on anti-depressants for a little over half of my life.  I'm currently in the process of weaning off of one less-than-effective med in favor of something that might be more helpful.  It stinks.  It's no fun.  Being around people is exhausting, and here's why: I spend 98% of my time around other people pretending that I am super happy and excited about everything because I'm afraid that if they knew that I actually feel like crap and wish I could be in my bed, they wouldn't want to be around me at all.  It's hard to struggle to get out of bed, and it's hard to feel like you're enough for the people in your life.

The idea of being enough is something I've been really struggling with lately.  It seems like I'm either too much or too little for people.  There doesn't seem to be a happy medium.  I say "seem" because I think that a lot of that is in my own head.  I have my own preconceived notions about what others expect of me, and they're often out of line with what people actually need/want.  That's not to say that I will always be enough for people.  There are definitely people in my life who struggle to accept that my best effort does not meet up to their expectations.

You can tell your family member/significant other/best friend that you love them and appreciate their efforts until you're blue in the face, but if your actions say otherwise, all of your words are useless.  People struggling with depression are excellent at giving themselves guilt trips.   As a result, we are quick to recognize when others are either subtly or outright guilt tripping us.  Actions always speak louder than words.  If you've never struggled with depression, it would be hard for you to understand just how soul-sucking depression can be.  Everyone wants to feel like they are enough.  It's hard to feel that way when people you love are constantly reminding you (through actions or words) that your efforts aren't enough.  Sometimes depression feels like you're drowning, and you're surrounded by people in life rafts.  These people have a spare life preserver and a spot in their raft, but instead of offering these to you, they tell you you're not trying hard enough.  They say, "if you'd only kick a little harder, you could probably make it to shore on your own."  As you can imagine, that's a rough position to be in.

As a Christian, I have had many people throw scriptures in my face like this might somehow change the makeup of my brain.  I've been told that depression means that you're living in the past (spoiler: it absolutely doesn't).  Most of us know all of the scriptures about being joyful or trusting in God.  Here's the thing, I do trust in God.  My hope is in God, but it doesn't take away my depression.  Let's talk about David, a man after God's own heart.  I think he knew a thing or two about depression.  He knew how to weep and feel deeply.  David wrote about his struggles in the Psalms. He wept, he mourned, he struggled.  Sometimes it feels like modern Christianity wants us to slap on a happy face at all times and pretend that the struggles of this world don't affect us.  We're so uncomfortable with people who feel things deeply and who struggle to suppress any difficulties they might be dealing with.  I don't pretend to be happy about everything for my own sake, I do it because I know that a lot of people wouldn't be comfortable around me if they knew that I really struggle like this.  I put my public persona on in the same way I apply my makeup.  I try to play up the better aspects of my personality, the parts of me that I know people enjoy being around.  To a certain extent, I have to remind myself that this is the hand I have been dealt.

I feel like this should come with a disclaimer: I do feel loved and accepted by most people in my inner circle.  Some of my struggles with this are of my own device.  Perhaps in masking my depression in social situations, I've duped people into believing that that's how I really feel most of the time, so the truth is harder to accept for them.

To my friends who also struggle with depression, anxiety, etc: I believe (on a cerebral level...I'm still working on the heart aspect) that we are enough.  No matter how we're made to feel, no matter what happens.  We are enough.  God made me, and God made you.  I believe that God doesn't make mistakes.  I've come to accept that depression is likely my 'thorn in the flesh.'  It's ok.  Everyone has struggles.  If I catch you out in the water some time during a life boat phase in my life, I promise to try to toss out the preserver.  I hope you'll do the same for me.  I'm not okay right now, but that's alright.  

Adventure

Mom and I returned from our adventure in New York City last night.  We walked 6+ miles a day, saw two broadway plays, and got blisters on our blisters.  ;)  It was thrilling and exhausting.  It was everything that an adventure should be.  There are few things that I love as much as people watching, and the city was absolutely perfect for it.  People are so interesting!  The way people walk, talk, and interact fascinates me.  Native New Yorkers reminded me of Batman in the Lego Movie, "I only work in black...and really, really dark gray!"  :)

Broadway was amazing!  Anastasia brought tears to my eyes.  There was a song about people having to flee their homeland.  They kept singing 'I'll bless my homeland till I die.'  It ripped my heart out.  It's so easy to view immigration and even refugees from a position of priviledge.  I've never felt like my safety and life in my homeland were mutually exclusive.  I think hearing that song, and the conviction in the voices of those actors really made our ferry out by Ellis Island so much more powerful the next day.  Whether you'd like to admit it or not, nearly all of us have immigrant roots.  I thank God for my family members who followed their dreams of a better life in America.

Aladdin was hilarious!  Man, that Disney money makes for some incredible set and costume options! We laughed until we cried.  Iago and the Genie were the obvious favorites.  It was such a blast!  I definitely wished that my kids could have seen it.  Next time, I will find a way to see Hamilton and Dear Evan Hansen.  I will admit that when we walked by Hamilton's grave at Trinity Church's Cemetery, I kept singing (quietly) songs from Hamilton.  It's a good thing that my Mom finds that sort of behavior endearing instead of annoying.  ;)

Our trip was so amazing, but it wouldn't have been possible without Will or my mother-in-law, Judy.  I really can't express my gratitude enough to the two of them.  Will took care of our kids, and Judy helped paint parts of our home that were in desperate need of attention.  She also helped organize and clean things that I had let slide a bit.  It was a huge comfort to know that my family was well taken care of while Mom and I were off exploring.

Now that I'm back home, the hustle and bustle is totally different.  I'm reffing sibling arguments and trying to keep Evan from knocking Sophia off of her one good foot.  I missed these silly, crazy kids!  I'm so happy to be home.  I'd love to live in NYC, but I am so happy with where my life is right now.  I start grad school in a couple of weeks.  That's the next big adventure.  ;)

"When I'm With You"

Something you might not know about me.  I don't love commitment.  I think that played a HUGE part in why it took me so [SOOOO] long to complete my bachelor's degree.  I'm interested in so many different things.  It felt like a crime to commit to just one of them for four years, let alone the rest of my life.  I told a friend last month that only two commitments have come easily to me in life: marrying Will and having children/being a mother.  It's Valentine's Day, so you'll have to bear with me (or just quit reading now) while I write about my husband for one post.

The first thing that attracted me to Will was his wit and sense of humor.  His looks and love of adventure followed close behind.  I knew that no matter where life took us, it wouldn't be boring. We both love(d) a challenge and adventure.  I also knew that he made me feel safe and loved.  I never felt like I had to hide the less than beautiful parts of myself from him in order to feel loved.

So- here's to the man who dreams with me, who holds me when the world feels like it's falling apart, and the one who brings calm to my life when my emotions get the best of me.  Here's to the man who is my opposite in almost all ways: he's the conservative to my liberal, the collected to my crazy, the objective outsider to my deeply emotional.

Will can tell when I'm struggling to keep it together.  He knows when I need time on my own to recharge.  He's willing to let me go off on short adventures with my Mom because he knows how special it is to be able to make those memories, and he understands how emotionally draining it can be to take care of four children day in and day out while he's working.

Will makes me laugh when I want to cry.  He brings a levity to my life that was sometimes lacking before him.  If I could offer my unmarried friends any advice, it would be to marry a person who makes you laugh.  Marrying someone who is very smart and capable of challenging you is great, too.  Just make sure you don't let them win at Scrabble too often.  ;)

I wrote about our struggles with a child in my last post.  Tonight, when I post a picture of us on our dinner + movie date, it will only be a tiny snapshot of a day that also included my having to talk one of our children out from under a school desk, hostage negotiator style.  We have our fair share of struggles and arguments.  Our life sometimes looks "picture perfect" on Facebook, but I can assure you that it's not. What I can tell you is that we love each other and all of our children more than life itself.  When we swore before God and man that we would belong to each other for the rest of our lives, we meant it.  On the days that we feel less than loving, we choose to love.  I wouldn't trade what we have for anything on earth.

Ben Rector's been on heavy rotation at our house lately.  As I've said on Facebook, he just seems to get me.  My current favorite of his is a song called "When I'm With You."  The chorus is "But when I'm with you I'm no longer wandering / And when I'm with you, I swear I can breathe / When I'm with you, I know who I am and who I wanna be."  That's how Will makes me feel.  I hope that all of my friends feel that either today or some day soon.

Here's to my forever Valentine.

Mental Health

I don't even know how to start this blog.  We are currently on the struggle bus.  I posted a vague request for prayer last night on Facebook.  That's not normally my style, but we are in what feels like a long season of feeling helpless and, to a lesser extent, hopeless.  One of our family members is really struggling and try as we might, we don't have the answers.  We've long kept regular therapy and psychiatric appointments.  Even though it seems like things should be improving, they are not.  

I am a firm believer in vulnerability and openness.  Honestly, trying to hide my issues never brought me anything but pain and trouble.  Here's my problem, as much as this story is something I live out daily, it's not all mine.  I am getting increasingly wary about sharing information about our kids online.  In that vein, I won't be sharing any more details about what's going on.  I can only share a little bit about how I feel.  

I am convinced now, more than ever, that the mental health system in America is in desperate need of overhaul.  Why is it so hard to get help for someone who is clearly at risk to harm themselves or others?  I understand that the movement to deinstitutionalize people with mental health issues was important and saved many people from a system that had become abusive and oppressive.  Have we gone too far in the other direction?  It seems that if a patient doesn't come in waving a loaded gun, they can't receive the help they need.  We need a happy medium.  There are so many parents out there struggling like us.  If the mental health community can't offer more than platitudes and positive reframing, we're up a creek without a paddle.  This is the field I am passionate about and want to work in, I really hope we can do better in the future.

I would like to express our love and gratitude for all of the prayers that were offered up on our behalf.  It is so comforting to know that people are standing in the gap for us.