Monday, August 31, 2015

Sometimes I don't know what to do

For so long I didn't know what to do, so I did "the next thing."That's how I keep going when faced with  crisis. I don't know how to handle situations, so I do what I know how to do.

I'm struggling with regret. My grandparents got moved into a nursing home less than three hours away and I didn't visit them once since they moved in. Sure, I had a young baby, but I definitely could have made the effort. I made plenty of time to go through my own personal crisis and try out new jobs and school ideas and sell my house and then switch back to social work and get a full time job. Who does that? It was so selfish. I was neglecting time with my babies to try and find myself. How much time did I miss out with them just to focus on myself? And I didn't even take the time to go visit my grandparents in a nursing home, just because it was inconvenient.

And what did I do when I found out my grandmother was dying? I went to work. I didn't rush to her unconscious side to say my last goodbye. It would have been easy-but I wanted to stay home. I selfishly didn't want to give up the time. And now it's too late to do that. I'm going to the memorial service. There's nothing else I can do. Maybe it's because I need closure, but going is the right thing to do.

I should have gone to see her, and I should have gone to say good-bye. I'm not sure if a blog is the right place to bawl out my sadness, but it's the only place I have right now. And even a blog is a selfish thing to do. It's all about how bad I feel about how I've handled situations.

I'm going to go work on paperwork, because it has to get done and I don't know what else to do right now.

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Balance and routine

My life has changed so much in the past five years. Marriage, taking and quitting jobs, pregnancy and babies, renting/buying/selling houses, losing loved ones, getting into and then delaying grad school.

My whole life I've been a write. Never professionally, but writing down my life is definitely my go-to coping skill. If I write at night, I always sleep better. If I get stressed, I can let it go (at least for a while). I wrote some letters I'd been thinking about for months now. I even have stamps in my purse. I'll probably send them tomorrow. So I'm going to write again.

This Saturday would have been my first day of Trevecca's Marriage and Family Counseling/Therapy program. However, over the last couple of weeks I realized that I currently cannot balance grad school, a full time job, and having a husband and kids. It would be really terrible to be studying to be a marriage and family therapist, and yet never spend time with my husband or kids. So I deferred a semester while I adjust to working a full time Youth Villages job. I'm ever so glad I did.

Because I did not start grad school yesterday, I spend a lot of this weekend working and working and working and working to catch up on paperwork and house work. What a relief to not be able to think of anything else I could do right away for work. I'm sure there is, but for today, I'm done. I also got some lunches made, cleaned the kitchen, got my pump ready to bring to work with me, got the kids stuff ready, and I folded and put away all our laundry. I got more house work done this weekend than I have in the past 8 months since August was born. I'm pretty sure that's true.

I also exercised. That pretty much never happened. You know what I did? I ate sugar. Adara asked me for a cookie, and Alex asked me to make healthier ones. We've been trying to eat healthier again. So I made chocolate chip pan cookies with almond flour and organic sugar and organic chocolate chips and real vanilla. Same amount of sugar, but organic and gluten free. I was almost bouncing off the walls and found new motivation for life. Adara joined right in. Exercising together used to be our everyday thing. (note: eating sugar also puts me in a TERRIBLY stressed mood. However, I convinced Alex to keep the kids away while I fueled my stress into cleaning.)

Monday, August 24, 2015

Memories of Gramda Turner

The hardest part is the memories. The hardest part is remembering my happy, loving, vibrant grandma and realizing she won't be fighting the infection much longer because her soul will be in heaven. She's going to be so happy there.

I remember the last time I saw her. I was pregnant with Adara, and we drove to visit and have a 60th wedding anniversary celebration. We stopped by their house on the way, and grandma was so happy to see us. On the day of the celebration she sat at the table with grandpa. Even though he didn't always know who we were or what was going on, she still looked at him lovingly. She still held his hand. She loved holding his hand. 

I remember when we came and hung out at her house. I remember she told us to all get sticky notes and write our names on whatever we wanted someday. I remember when we helped clean out their trailer of stuff and I got to bring home some baskets from Ecuador. I felt so special.

Grandma loved taking care of her family. When she visited us over holidays, she would always make a huge pile of toast and buttered each piece. 

I remember when my grandparents came to visit. I remember thinking I wanted a marriage like theirs. I remember seeing my grandpa kiss my grandma and she had such a huge smile on her face. They really, truly loved each other.

She used to crochet all the time, and she made us all blankets. She asked me about my favorite colors, and then crochet a quilt of squares with all the colors. It's one of my most treasures things. She would talk about crocheting a quilt for all of her kids and grand kids.

I remember getting to stay over night at my grandparent's house in Guatemala. I remember thinking it was cool that grandma had milk that I could blow bubbles with a straw, and that I could always have a fig newton at her house. 

Looking back, I don't have tons and tons of specific memories with grandma. I remember more how I felt around her. I remember feeling loved and cared for every time. I remember feeling happy with her.

Even though I haven't seen her in years. I'm really going to miss her.