Social media addict?

Yesterday, I made the decision to remove myself from social media.

Yes, I did….

I deactivated my Facebook account and deleted my Snapchat.

I didn’t have an Instagram or twitter.

However, I do have accounts in all of these for my business.

On a personal level, I am not longer connected to social media.

AND I FEEL FABULOUS!!!

At first, I thought this was going to be hard. How will I survive without seeing everyone’s lives happening before me? How will I make it through a day without seeing how everyone’s first day of school was or how that girl in Bloomington is doing with the new baby. How will I make it without knowing how Ed the coffee guy managed to make it through the Park Ridge Farmers Market or how Bob from California is enjoying his new puppy?

This is how I did it. I replaced that time scrolling through social media with ME time. I looked at my son while I was talking to him. I asked him questions instead of nodding yes while responding to a post. I cleaned the oven, which was pretty cool! I did an amazing amount of marketing on milkshakes for my business and arrived into work early without being tired. While at work I read a book during the slow times and did a little extra cleaning.

It all seems so normal but for me it isn’t normal. I spent way too much time on social media. Doing all these extra things personally and professional has me feeling empowered and ready to tackle some more tasks. That’s crazy!!!!!

Last night I went to bed earlier then I usually do and actually went to sleep!  Like within 15 minutes. That’s unheard of!

This morning I woke up before the alarm and felt great.

I am pretty sure I was addicted to social media. Without it I get a little itchy, I want to just take a quick peek. I pick up my phone to click the big F (that’s F for Facebook) and for a second panic that it isn’t there. But, it’s getting easier and I am looking less.

Another reason I quit social media. It was helping me to build up resentments. I spend a lot of time with my son at home because autism doesn’t let us enjoy day trips out like most families. In addition, his chronic lung disease and oxygen requirements make it hard to just hop on out the door. Watching these assumable normal families enjoy the last few days of summer vacation was making me sad, not happy. Watching stranger’s lives that have no part of my daily life was making me resent them.

Without those visuals I can focus on the gratitude. The beautiful smile and hardy laugh my son enjoys at home. Our everyday hot dog lunches and “black popcorn” with water balloons by the dozen. The chronicles of the Boss (our puppy boxer) and homemade meals (not instagramed or facebooked) by my super BFF hubby! The best part are the text messages from the people IN my life with pictures of their kids first day at school, letting me know they are traveling for a sick family member or just asking to meet for lunch or coffee.  The important stuff!

Advertisements

Keep me posted

This afternoon John has a doctor’s appointment with his pulmonary doctor, Dr. Lestrud. He was been following John for 12 years now, since John was born. Our relationship hasn’t always been sunshine and daisies. We have learned having and keeping a doctor is hard, like any relationship.

Back in the day when John was on the vent, oxygen, feeding tube and 13 medications 3X a day I would call Dr. Lestrud my “bad boyfriend”. I needed him in my life, but I wish I didn’t. He never listened to me and doesn’t call me back until I start crying.

It took a few mistakes and steps back for him to start hearing my suggestions. I vividly remember talking to him on the phone one afternoon crying because John was home sick and not improving. I was upset that it took so long for him to call me back. I was upset that the medication he was using wasn’t helping and that he wouldn’t prescribe a steroid to help him. We talked for about 15 minutes, I stopped crying, he apologized for making me feel unimportant and we agreed on a plan moving forward. Which if I remember correctly worked out well. I rarely cried when I called him but this time I had reached a limit. I believe he knew that and took action to make the situation a little easier for us.

Ironically, his wife, who is his 2nd wife, was a nurse in the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU) and took care of John at some point. They have 4 kids together, he has 4 other kids from his first marriage. I often wondered if he was this apologetic as a husband as he was with me that day. But, that would be getting too personal with the doctor.

I’m not saying I was always right. He needed to trust me so he can treat my son and I needed to trust him. There is a balance between what is medically right and what I want. Conversations need to be had, respectfully. I don’t know what medications he needs. But, Dr. Lestrud doesn’t know either unless I can articulate what is happening to John in medical terms, with less emotions. Mom’s with chronically ill kids get a crash course in medical jargon and pick it up quickly.

Over the years I have learned to take the emotion out of my communications. It’s not always easy and I didn’t always do it well. But, I did learn that when I can articulate our needs without crying, name calling or being passive aggressive we get better results. This applies in advocating for education, medical and social needs.

When John first came home from the hospital he was going to at least 5 appointments a month. Every appointment I thought there was going to be some great revelation or milestone. Most cases I was disappointed. Most appointments were the usual nurse’s check in (weigh, temp and blood pressure), sit in the room for almost an hour because they over book, see the doctor for 15 minutes and schedule the next appointment for 3-6 months later.  Eventually we were told to come back in 6 months and that seemed like a milestone. 6month!!! You mean not 3 months???  Yeah!!

Today, we are going to see Dr. Lestrud after 3 months to talk about his oxygen needs. I still think something amazing will come out of this, but deep down the little committee in my head is saying “STOP IT, you know it will be a meet and greet and a “keep me posted on his progress at home” visit.” That’s what I get for knowing my son so well, for advocating for him so well all these years. I get a “keep us posted” from the doctor. (Smile) That sentence seriously gave me butterflies, yes that’s me patting myself on the back, after 12 years. Yes, I am patting myself on the back.

Slow and steady is how we roll

Dr. Lestrud explained what a good wean looks like and we set a plan. Wean the liters from 4 to 3 and see how it goes.  We both agreed we want him to start school in September with or without the oxygen.

Go home and “keep me posted”

ilovebowling
I just wanna bowl!!!!

The Hubs: 2017 Edition

My hubs…

Some days I refer to him as my BFF, others not so much. If you are going to have a child like John, the trifecta of disabilities (CDH, Epilepsy & Autism), you better like who you live with because you will be spending a lot of time with them.

Some days we are all we have. No one is inviting us over to BBQ’s and people surely aren’t bringing their kids over to play with my son. At the end of the day he is the only person I can vent to, tell how I feel or just sit in silence with. It’s comfortable, its safe, somedays it’s hard and somedays it’s just perfect.

We separated for two years in 2012 (I think, maybe 2011). That separation is what saved our relationship. Before we separated I was almost 2 years sober, he was an active alcoholic. He left me telling me that I was doing great things and he was holding me back. I made sure he knew that was a great excuse but it’s really because he’s too scared to grow with me.

The first year we lived under the same roof, the second year he moved out into his own condo a few blocks away. I started dating in the second year. Nothing great to talk about. It’s amazing how many men my age live in their mom’s basement apartment, hate their ex’s and just are so lost in who they are. I had literally no success, obviously. I eventually just focused on me and building a business.

During those two years Kevin always treated me well. He treated me better while we were separated then he ever did while we were together. He stopped by the house every night to see his son, he fixed what needed to be fixed, he cooked, cleaned and was an amazing example for who a father should be, except for the part about sticking around in a marriage.

John became ill in 2014 with the flu. He ended up in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) of Children’s Memorial for one month. At that time, we didn’t know if John was going to survive. They were using words that would prepare us for incubation and what happens if he didn’t start breathing on his own. After about 3 weeks John turned the corner. He started sitting up, breathing and laughing. We were amazed and so grateful for everyone involved in saving our son. It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last.

During those 4 weeks Kevin and I were carpooling to avoid the $15.00 a day parking fee at the hospital garage. He would drive over after work texting me when he arrived and I would go down and take his truck home while he went up with John. Some days we would go home together, clean up and head back to the hospital. We would sit and chat about John’s past and how strong he is. We gave each other huge praises for keeping him alive. We talked about the good times and the hard times. During this time I was in the process of opening up my shop. Kevin was right there helping with the build out, getting permits, supplies and contracts. He was amazing.  I asked him one day on the way back to the hospital, “Why are you being so good to me? We are not together anymore, you can just move on”. He said, “This is for all of us. Just because we aren’t together doesn’t mean we aren’t a family”.

Kevin is a man of few words but sometimes he amazes me with the words he speaks.

I know he struggles with his own demons, I have seen them. But, he really has the best intentions for his family.

Today, I can’t imagine being with any other man. When I am angry at him I imagine what it would be like. I let my crazy mind travel into places, imagining myself with another man or running away by myself to a deserted island. The scenarios I create in my mind always end with me thinking Kevin would treat me kinder. Or Kevin wouldn’t judge me like that, Kevin would have made it all OK.

Every Sunday morning he brings me breakfast in bed. Every night he tucks his son in to bed. Every day he tells me he loves me. He is humble. He is kind. These are the things I need to remember when times get tough.

#GoodNightSweetWorld

7 years later…

A friend introduced me to Anne Lamott.

She gives a Ted talk about the 12 truths she learned from life and writing.  The two that immediately popped out at me are “stop helping so much” & “Just do it!”.

The other 10 are also spot on. But, in this moment in my life these two popped out to me personally.

Stop helping so much: I spent the last twenty years helping others even when I didn’t want to. I started to resent people because I was helping them. Today, that idea seems backwards to me. Today, when someone asks me for something I have learned to pause and think about it before saying yes. Sometimes I say “Let me check my schedule and get back to you”. I like to be able to say yes with the feeling of really wanting to help. If I say no, its because I really can not help. Something about the situation either doesn’t feel right with me or will be taking me away from something that is important to me. One of the ways I have combated the guilt I feel for not helping is advising on where else they can go for help. Sometimes people have to do a little more work, to help themselves.

Just do it: I used to start things and never finish. Or I would never start and talk about it for months or years. When I decided to change my life 7 years ago I never imagined I would become a “Get it” kind of girl! Today, one of my weaknesses may be my strength. I don’t think before I do. I get an idea and run with it! I try it, sometimes I fail and sometime I succeed. I do not let fear lead me, I let it trail behind me on my coat feathers trying to catch up. It’s always there. I am pretty sure if I thought too much about it, I wouldn’t do it. I would let the evil little committee in my head tell me I am crazy, slow me down or halt me all together. But, NO, today I just do it! Now, I own a business I love, I balance life with family (sometimes), and I am still married (happily, most days). Imagine that!

My 7 year anniversary is tomorrow. Happy 7 year to me! The day I decided to Just do it, for me!

Anne Lamott gives a Ted talk here. Love her balance of humor on serious topics. Must listen!!

 

Happy Mother’s Day

Every morning he says “whatda we have?”  This morning my response was “dance class”.  He replies “Chuckie cheese?’  I say, “No, Johnny you didn’t earn it.”.  Then he places his forehead against mine and kisses my nose gently.

This is the typical morning with John first thing.  He usually turns into a clown by tickling me, burping or farting.  But, he always says “exxxxxcuse me”.  He’s polite like that.

This morning for some reason he also asked for Grandpa and signed it.  I feel like his presence is here to say Happy Mother’s Day as well.

I am the luckiest mom in the world to have been chosen by John. He’s a clown, loving, feisty, polite, and more…and somehow I feel like I had nothing to do with all that.  I love this kid to bits!

Happy Mother’s Day!!!

First blog post: Who am I?

Today, I am an entrepreneur, a mother and wife. As I type this my son has his head resting on my thigh with an oxygen mask attached to his face via a home concentrator. Its bedtime so my husband is downstairs watching TV and probably sleeping because I have the kid watch night shift. It’s a routine we have become accustomed to over the last 12 years. More on that later…

The past me was a nine to fiver for a 500K corporation. I was working my way up to the top, having liquid lunches, meaning Bacardi, and kid free. Until I fell into marriage, became a foster parent and had my son John. Then, I was a stay at home mom turned medical advocate with a crash course in medical jargon and an education advocate with “due process” always in my master plan, but thankfully never initiated. This ME became a lonely housewife that liked to party.

Once you hit your bottom there is no other place to go but up. If you are desperate enough to change and surround yourself with the right people they will give you the steps to keep you moving forward even on your loneliest days.

The future ME, I haven’t met yet. I take it one day at a time and let my life play out the way it should. 10 years ago, I never would have imagined being the owner of a successful sweet treat shop. I’m pretty sure anyone who knew me couldn’t imagine it either. I think this is why I am blogging. I want to start thinking about what I want to do next. Writing has been such a healing process for me over the years. Some of what I wrote I shared on social media sites and some I did not. This is the time for me to heal from my past, move forward and write about it.

Maybe my future me is a writer?