Defining 2018

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family.

Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.

~ Jane Howard

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I’ve seen many mentions as we enter the new year of defining what you want 2018 to be in one word.  For a writer, one word is really hard. Before I tell you mine, let’s go back to 2017. This is something I have wanted to write about for a very long time, but could never quite find the appropriate words. I think I’ve finally gotten there, so here goes. 

Looking back, I believe people often find one moment that seems to define everything that comes after it. My moment was early in the year when met with disappointment as a job opportunity for dad of the year did not pan out. In fact, that moment he told me this news is fresh on my mind like it just happened yesterday. It was easy to have emotions, so many emotions and while I had prepared myself for how I would handle this, it still felt so foreign to me. Enter GRACE. The tilt was definitely heavy on one side, but I’d like to think we both leaned a bit more toward grace on this one. Our bond strengthened and we learned that when faced with eyes that made us feel like the world was ending, all we had to do was change our perspective. Perhaps you could say mine changed more than his.  

From then forward, we seemed to live in a perpetual state of change. #1 entered her final year of middle school with new baggage, a blood disorder that would bring its own fair share of chaos to our lives. Immune Thrombocytopenia (ITP), a blood disorder, while not really life threatening can seem a bit like your in-laws just came for a visit and decided to move in. Permanently. It brought worry and concern to our days. It brought disappointment as she learned she could not participate in certain activities due to the threats they could potentially pose. We were told ITP sometimes takes 6-12 months to get better. We are nearly 5 months into this and her platelet levels remain pretty steady, lingering somewhere between low and lower. For the first time, our wonderful hematologist used the word chronic. I was not prepared for this to be something we would deal with the rest of her life. Enter HOPE. Until we reach the 6 month mark, we have to continue to hope things will get better and ITP will leave as quickly as it came. 

When people tell you that your children will indeed develop their own personalities and interests and will truly be their own person, it’s not anything you don’t really already know as a parent. However, I somehow entered second grade with #2 hoping she would begin to love school as much as her sister. Enter PATIENCE. Learning for our Smalls has not come easily and I can see this being a big source of contention between these two girls for many years to come. It has taken me months to be able to talk publicly with others about the fact she needs extra help in school and that her reading test scores are scarily low. I can’t quite vocalize why I never talked about it. Maybe it was the fear of the Judgy McJudgerson moms out there coming out of the woodwork, ready to pounce on my reality and blame me for the way things were. Oh trust me, I punish myself more than an entire slew of mom trolls ever could! Of course I tell myself I should have done this or that more or better (truth be told, I also blame myself for #1’s ITP) but the reality is, she is just slower to process this whole learning thing and that’s OK. I can’t make the words make sense in her mind any more than she can force me to eat peas (I still strongly dislike peas). It’s a whole new level of patience as I learn to nudge where I can and stand down when needed. I want her to love learning but know it will come at its own pace and shame on me for thinking others could make me feel like less of mother for doing my very best. 

Enter HOPELESSNESS. Hold on folks, this is where it gets a little raw. My days began to blur like this. Leave for work before everyone else in my house left. Fly home late wondering who is going to pick up #2, angry when it had to be me. Hastily make dinner, unaware of what I was putting into my body nor its nutritional effect on me. Cram dinner down throat in 15 minutes while reading emails I couldn’t get to during the day. Daughters of the year talking to me the entire time but I learned to nod as though I heard them when I really heard nothing at all. Yell when #2 decides to monkey around instead of finish her dinner. Allow one of them to say mom at least 10 times before I responded hastily with, “Just a minute, let me finish this email!” Clear table. Yell again at #2 when she insists on a bath because baths take more of my time and I have work to do. Pile dishes in sink because work is more important than any kind of cleanliness. Open laptop and work. Stop long enough to prepare for the next day when I would often forget to pack something of necessity into a backpack. #1 learned early on to just take care of herself because mom would never remember what needed to go to school when. Fall into bed, barely whisper good night to dad of the year and fall asleep, most often feeling guilty I didn’t work out but where in the world would I fit that in? I was clearly burning the candle at both ends. 

Enter WAKE UP CALL. Many of you know that Wednesday means blood work for #1 as we constantly measure her platelet levels. This particular day would mean I would be late for work. I got in the shower hastily going through my routine until a legitimate anxiety attack set in. Now, sometimes people joke about this but this was for real. I knew it was real because I had felt this after #1 was born. The reality of this tiny human being now fully in my care caused a terror I had never felt before and brought with it an extreme anxiety over driving. My mind would fill with thoughts of what happened if we got in an accident or I turned too quickly or I ran out of gas or she cried while I drove.  All completely irrational things but became a new kind of reality for my fragile mind. That day in the shower, I realized my routine of work-work-work was going to be upset and the thought of being late became the main priority in my mind. This was a very important need for MY CHILD! How did my priorities get so very screwed up? 

Please don’t read blame into this post as there is no one to blame except me. No one held a gun to my head and forced me to do the things I did. That was all on me! I loved my job and to this day, still do love that job. But I had grown so into it, I couldn’t let go of it. I left a wake of destruction in my path and suddenly didn’t care if my family got caught in that path. I can’t explain when this happened or why, it merely just did. It’s a work ethic that is a part of me I simply can’t shake and I knew the only way I could change was to change my surroundings. There was no way I could disconnect even at the urging of those who cared about me most. Oh, I talked a big talk. Life was too short to worry about things that weren't important. Family was what mattered. The truth was, I cared very deeply for that job and the customers I served (both internal and external). Enter HONESTY. As I sought out answers for how to put the pieces of my life back together and not have anxiety over taking care of my OWN FAMILY, it took therapy for me to realize there had been a shift. A shift in my mindset that made personal relationships the thing I valued most and I had this “thing” in my life that constantly got in the way. Yes, I’d like to think you can have it all but a wise woman once told me I am not super woman. As much as that hurt, it was the truth. As my priorities changed, one day I sat at the dinner table and realized I did not really, truly, know these people who were sitting around me. They were changing and growing and I hadn’t been present. For some reason I'm not sure I could ever explain, I simply could not disconnect from work. I was a stranger in my own home.

Enter CHANGE. The decision to change jobs was not a decision I came to lightly.  In fact, it waged a full on war with my mind as I struggled with what was the best decision. I constantly looked for signs, divine intervention if you will, but never got anything. In the end, I knew this was a decision I would have to make on my own and I decided to do so very privately. Now, for someone who values personal relationships as much as I do, this was risky. However, as someone who never puts herself first, I was finally doing just that and it felt oddly strange. I still miss those co-workers and most importantly, friends that I left behind. No one could ever replace them and never will. You will always be a part of me as you shaped me from a dumb girl in my 20’s to a mature woman, an employee to a manager, a woman to a mother, and so much more. You know me better than most anyone and I love how you accepted my daily oddities with nothing but love and acceptance. 

I never thought I would say this, but looking back I have no regrets. Well, except regret over those I hurt through this whirlwind process of change. Enter APOLOGIES. I truly am very sorry. It was difficult for me to put into words something I didn't quite understand myself. Somewhere along life's path, I had taken a wrong turn and now had to right things for my family. I had to find a way to disconnect myself from something I simply couldn’t disconnect from on my own. I know this may be hard for others to understand because disconnecting comes much easier for them and I shout, kudos to you!  Above all, I learned and am still learning to value myself most. That was a big thing for me folks. Huge!  And to my very best friends (you know who you are), thank you for listening to what many days must have seemed like a whiny little girl. Thank you for never shutting me out, teaching me it was OK to seek out someone to talk to but most of all, for tolerating the whirlwind I must have led you through. I know some days were a pool of negativity and you probably wanted to shout at me, but instead you leaned toward grace and I love you for that. Thank you for being gentle with my heart. 

That brings us to my word for 2018: FAMILY. I haven't always been present nor the best person I could have given them, but I know they truly are the most important thing. It's not the house nor the job nor the car, not even the money. They stood by me through nods, yelling, tears, anxiety and an extreme amount of fear. I love you for your eternal tolerance and acceptance of my own personal brand of crazy.  

As I look around at my new reality, I like what I see. I'm just so very sorry it took me so long to realize it. Here's hoping my new year also brings much more writing! I've missed it. Thanks for sticking with me readers and I wish you a wonderful new year.