Once Upon A Time there was a Mom and a Punkin....

 As a parent, there are things that are hard to explain to the outside world. But when the Punky was about eight years old, she became very aware that I was the only person she had. That if something would happen to me, she couldn't just go to live with her dad. Her dad wasn't in her life. She didn't know him. And she shouldn't go to live with grandparents. I had asked my friends to be godparents should something ever happen. But never went to court to make it official. Whatever the reason, the reality set in on her and she became extremely aware of how she needed me and that she had no one else. This fed into a huge fear, a fear of abandonment. And impending doom, the feeling that she was going to be abandoned. 

This didn't always present itself in a rational way. Well, it seldom or never did. Fears like this present in unlovely ways. It led to a lot of haggling, fighting, confrontational disagreements. These situations built to levels that were volatile. As a person with plenty of pent of anger and rage myself, and not wanting to unleash these on my children, and this child in particular, I sometimes felt the need to distance myself, to get out of the middle of situations that were teetering on uncontrollable, volatile outbursts. 

Leaving was not successful for me in that The Punkin would follow me to the car, pulling on my body and begging me not to leave her. Telling her, "Punk, I'm going to hit you or hurt you, I HAVE to leave...." did not calm her or help her understand. As time passed and more resources were poured into us, parent advocates would coach me to be sure to tell her, "I am not abandoning you and I WILL be back." At times, this was helpful. 

Calling a time out where we separated in the same vicinity did not work either. The fear and abandonment issues just continued to boil over in my child. She would "break into" my room or wherever my time out area was. I put a locking door on my bedroom in an effort to have a safe place to retreat to when conflicts became explosive. But the Punkin Seed would bang on the door, screaming and crying, and carrying on about how she needed me and to please just open the door. 

This is a scary and sad part of my daughter's childhood. This is a failure and all-consuming heartbreak in my life. The fears and confrontations continued throughout middle school and high school years. The sense of being needed and being overwhelmed and a sense of no relief in sight trailed on for years. As a parent, I became less and less capable to care for my precious girl. But every conflict piled onto previous conflicts and craziness of our life and instantly shot up to the level of hopeless. 

At this time I was still teaching and learning more and more all the time about students who live with trauma and how many kids live with an emotional baseline that is fearfully close to fight and flight levels. These children can go from 0 to 60 in 2.5 seconds on the crisis scale. And I know that this student is my kid. As time passed, "these children" were also me. I was continually just seconds aware from not being able to control my emotions. 

This bled into my professional life and tore me down. It led to constant and continual exhaustion. Exhaustion that was physical, psychological, emotional and mental. 

As a parent, all I can do is pray my kids know I love them; grow to be happy, functional adults; and be there to help them grow. to teach them how to be the best humans they could be. This is what I imagine every parent feels and hopes for their kids. 

The haunting comes when I know that for all my hopes for my kiddo, I am at the heart of the implosion and the explosions. That I was incapable to being the loving, calm, well-adjusted parent I desired to be. That I was part of the problem. It wasn't a situation I knew how to extract myself from. It was overwhelmingly hopeless for me.

This is where I end for today. I have spit out my heart, the story, or at least an outline of a story, in an effort to continue with being transparent and being willing to expose my shortcomings in order to heal and become the person I know that I am.... a good mother, a good teacher, a good friend, a contributing member of society. 

More will be revealed.... 

I knew that light wasn't a train!

 Remember how very recently I said that there's progress on my disability, even if it's ever so slight? It's done! And I got it! There is so much that I don't know yet, but the website did tell me this, my first direct deposit onto my debit card will come April 8. Friends, the best part of this to me that I can share with you, is that it comes in time to pay our Evergy bill! I can't tell you what a mixed bag it is to have to rely on others to pay the bills. On the one hand, it feels like love when someone pays your bills. But on another level, it's a burden, a give that I can never repay and it wears me down. Being a mooch. *sigh* My excitement about getting benefits is multi-faceted, but this is the piece I can't hold in and have to share right now. I'll be able to pay my own energy bill in April! It is an empowering feeling!! 

Every Little Step is Progress....

 Today I logged in to the SS website and my disability case is in step 4, final review process, which usually takes 2-4 weeks. I am ecstatic because my progress has been stuck for SO LONG, in step three, and step 3 of the reconsideration was estimated to take 2-5 months, and that started on August 24th. So longer than 5 months. I have been so stuck in frustration and stagnation. 

But life goes on and good things are happening here. 

Before I get too far off base, I have to stop and say thank you. Thank you for prayers, for help, for caring, for still reading this blog that has gotten a bit sour. Thank you. I am so grateful for the people who send their positive energy, say prayers to God above, send love, stay in touch and care for us in big and small ways. Thank you for constantly and consistently reminding me that I'm loved. You are a big piece of why I haven't completely given up.

We still don't know how we're going to do this thing called life and we still covet your support. But Jadyn is working at (and loving her job at) Home Depot. She works part time and averages around 25 hours a week. She maxes out her body physically doing this. But the positive is that she loves it, we're gaining on nerve and muscle pain management, and we're still working with a doctor to continue pain management. These are gains in her health. We are also striving to incorporate more foods that are in an anti-inflammatory diet and cutting out foods that lead to more inflammation. This is not easy, but we are gaining. Jadyn hopes to go full time at some time and one thing we're excited about the hope of taking care of ourselves and not relying on the goodness of our loved ones and friends. But I'm getting ahead of myself. We have to pace ourselves and not overdo and it's still hard. We want to run wild! 

My knees are getting steadily better. Today I woke up with stiff knees and noticed a little bit of hobbling, but most days I have little limp and hobble. I have to be careful. It never ceases to amaze me that I wear out faster than I "should" and that long stints of standing are overwhelming. Too much movement is wearing. But lack of those, is also wearing. It is just part of healing and I need to continue to remind myself that it just takes time. and more time. But I am moving forward. I am looking toward fall and see myself teaching again (praying things fall into place for this).

Currently I'm working on renewing my teaching license, getting license renewal submitted, getting fingerprints and filing this all. 

We're working on getting eggs in the incubator. I'll go check the humidity level when I finish typing this. Once the humidity level is where it needs to be, I'll put duck eggs in and set the countdown for 28 days. We have materials to finish out chicken and duck pens in the barn and we'll be set to have all our birds in reasonably sized pens for night, with ducks and chickens (and geese) free-ranging during the days. 

Another next step for me, will be to get garden vegetables planted and started in the house. We have a good start on some rich compost dirt for our garden. 

These things feel like good progress. But here comes some really great things.... 

Carrie got a car!!!!! I have been given a car, a 2006 Pontiac Grand Am, with title in hand and ready to drive. I cannot contain my excitement about this. 

We have the parts to fix Jadyn's car. We cannot find the one and only key. So we are looking into next steps to obtain a key to move on and get this done! 

I also got a phone. My phone was so sick, so close to dead. Sometimes it would turn on and sometimes it wouldn't. Sometimes I could make a call, but most times not. I have a few two-step verification accounts (one of them being the Social Security Disability site) that involve sending a code to my phone. Sometimes it would take more than 10 minutes to successfully retrieve these codes and they would be expired by then. So for 2 weeks or so I've had a WORKING phone and I'm SO grateful. My sweetheart bought this for me and I couldn't be more grateful. 

So much goodness happening.... 

Still stuck in that holding pattern, but there's movement!! Yay! 

Thank you again for reading, for responding, for helping, for staying on the journey with us. 

Still going....

 Or should I say.... still waiting. But I haven't quit. So I guess I'm going. Everyday I think it will be the magic day that there's movement on my disability account, but it never happens. 

On the home front.... 

• No cards are moving. I don't know if they've just lost their novelty or I changed something in promoting them. I'm not really asking you to tell me, I am just banging out a process on the keyboard. I really enjoy adding sentiment to cards, but mostly I leave them blank for the purchaser to fill in to meet their needs. Lately though, some little quips have been floating through my head as I design. So I figure it's time to start making cards with specific purposes, even if they are just humorous. I have this chicken I drew and it kind of looks like she's dancing, and I keep thinking.... "Henny Penny didn't want to be chicken, she didn't want to be a duck, she just wanted to shake her butt...." so that will be getting added to that one soon. 
• I'm collecting duck eggs to put in the incubator. Soon we'll be adding even more mixed up babies to our eclectic barnyard mix of ducks. Duck eggs incubate for 28 days. I have 15 eggs collected and am wanting between 20-25 to load up the incubator. That is only a matter of days. Or maybe even today. As I forgot to gather eggs yesterday. There could be as many as 8 eggs waiting for me when I go to let the ducks and geese out into the yard. 
• I'm trying to figure out what to do in my bathroom to finish it. Jadyn bought the paint and my friend Ed has offered mud and tape. So now to get the wall patched up, the shower frame finished and get my ass in gear.
• I found a job I'm interested in. Hmmmm. There's a whole mess with finding a job, juggling transportation with the already working member of this household, and the whole "we didn't have liability insurance at the time...." ordeal. 
  

That's about it here. I'll add a slide about ways to help.

Here is the amazon wish list for art supplies.

Here is a wish list of farm supplies we could use help with. 

This is the mundane, the every day, what's happenin' at the Hippie Chick Farm.... 

Trudging the road...

 A few things.... 

a few days ago I reached the big 3-5 years of sobriety. I still have a morbid fear of that first drink. And what all it would take away from me. I teared up at the holidays thinking of the hell I put loved ones through when I was still drinking. My drinking career was short. About 5 years. But I broke a lot of trust and lied and cheated and took advantage and tore down and fell down and descended into hell. 

One thing sobriety didn't bring was instant maturity. I was not suddenly able to realize that I was the creator of my destiny. All sorts of things that happened to me were not my fault. In fact, pretty much nothing was my fault and everything either "just happened to me" or was someone else's fault. You know people like that? They are not fun people to hang out with. Kinda pathetic. And that was me. 

And it is me. This is deeply ingrained into who I am. And I've been on the path to overcoming this for 35 years. I'm not there yet. But I'm making progress. I practice daily. Attempting to take responsibility for where I am and what is my responsibility and letting the rest go.

Cuz the other thing is that I take on blame for all of it. Even the stuff that actually isn't mine to own. And woe is me... I suck and so does my life.... wah, wah, wah.... 

So I have to practice letting go also. It's not all mine to own actually. 

I am preparing to enter the world of work again. Education in particular. I'd love to jump back in. But there's more than just me to consider right now. A kid, without a license, with a job, and needing to get there and back. A couple years ago I would have said, "tough shit kiddo, the mom is getting a job..." but now she's 18 and contributing to the household. She's not holding tight to the ideal of "it's mine" in regards to her check, she helps. A lot. So I have to look at this from the angle to two contributors doing the best that they can to see things through on this little farm and the need for win-win and work-together-ness. Oh boy. This is a hard curve for me. 

And I'm still waiting. For disability. It still says I'm in step 3 of 5 of reconsideration. I keep waiting for it to be at 5. It said this would take 3-5 months and the reconsideration date was August 24, 2022. So we have GOT to be at the end, somewhere soon. Sooner than later. 

I'm living on a minimum of resources. Food stamps. Kan-Care insurance and a measly amount of child support monthly. But going back to work.... it has to replace these things. Think about this. Will we actually be able to make it? Will I find something with insurance? I need to have insurance and to clear enough to replace $500/month in food stamps. Not to mention we'd really love to have trash service, gas money, vehicle maintenance money (insurance, oil changes, etc.), money to pay our own evergy bill, and homeowners insurance. Crap. That seems like a lot. Like it's insurmountable. Grrrr. 

God has promised me over and over and over that He'll take care of me and mine. But I'm looking for transition back to the world of the living and it feels tenuous and precarious. And so, as ever, we're still stuck in a holding pattern.... waiting. 

Tom Petty said the waiting is the hardest part. He ain't a lyin'.

Forecasting 100% chance of Fog....

 My brain is full of fog. Hazy. Messy. Lots of interference. 100% chance of fuzzy brain. 

So here I sit trying to muddle through, still believing, that tapping it out on the keyboard, sharing my muddled, befuddled brain with you, will somehow lift me out of this mire. But it's lost... beyond the fog. 

My give a shit.... it's there, just beyond that hazy, foggy brain. My drive and ambition.... just beyond the fog. Creativity.... past the fog. Reason and clarity.... lost in the fog. 

I am still grateful. Practicing gratitude. It has become habit. For this I'm grateful. But the emotion, the feeling of gratitude, is also lost in the fog. The joy. It's there. But it's out in the fog. 

Apathy. I have that in spades. It's larger than the joy. Larger than the melancholy. Larger than my gratitude. Larger than my creative gene. 

Apathy. Looming large. Rolling in on the fog. Clouding up my judgment. 

New Beginnings, clean slates....

 I'm SOOOOO in need of a clean slate/new beginning. I'm so glad that New Year's brings this. I know I am capable of starting over any time, any day, any hour. But there's something symbolic about the new year, something magical and powerful. And I'm ready. 

I'm ready not to be a puddle of disabled crippledness. I'm ready to be a contributing citizen, a capable human. I'm ready for renewal of spirit and mind as well as body. Not that my body doesn't need it, it most assuredly does. Today I attempted yoga. and I had the privilege to get to be informed by my body just how far we have to go to get mobility back, and just how impaired my range of motion still is. It was eye-opening for certain. 

Then there's the whole disability fiasco. You know me. Did I listen to others when they said how difficult it is to get disability? nope. I was the exception. because of course, I'm me. And I was actually disabled. So why wouldn't I get it. Ha! I don't have a final determination yet. I have lost paperwork. Which I might add I really have to practice letting go of resentment here. If you know me, you know I am not the world's best at meeting deadlines and getting things turned in in a timely fashion. But paperwork was received on a Monday, due back on that coming Friday and I had it in the mail on Thursday. Folks, for me, that is extremely timely. So the fact that the disability office never received it is annoying. Now I am filling it out again. But knowing that I qualify according to the qualifications of someone who will be disabled for 12 months or more, and knowing that they are not really looking at that qualifying marker, is really disheartening. The first denial said I should be able to return to work by November 1st. I don't know what kind of job they think I'd be qualified to do, but I was quite cripped up yet on November 1st. Ugh. 

So my frustration lives on.

I am trying to plan my future. Because I am no longer confident that just because I was actually disabled and met the qualifications laid out by SS disability that I will actually get it. But I'm overwhelmed, frustrated and discouraged. 

However, there is a little hope laced in there. 

I have hope that I'll continue to gain range of motion and general mobility. I already limp less than I have for the last two years of my life. I am still slow. And stiff. My knees are often still stiff and don't want to loosen up much. 

But trying to gauge what I am capable of REALISTICALLY, not according to the powers that determine disability, is tough. It's scary. Overwhelming. 

I am starting to dream of Kindergarten. Because I am in love with those little people and we need more Kinder teachers who love Kindergarten, Kinders, and Kinder parents. Teachers who know that little Suzy and Johnny will learn to read, and that it's okay that not everyone learns at the same pace. That learning is supposed to be fun and is meant to be celebrated. That these babies are worth all the extra hours. What if I could get my body and mind in shape before school starts again in August? Because I obviously cannot get there by this week or next. And recovering from knee replacement does take time. Duh. That's why they say it takes 12-18 months. But it's easy to forget this, because the doctors themselves act like I should be whizzing along doing all I could do before I fell prey to osteoarthritis. Then when I bring it up, they suddenly remind me that it can take up to 18 months to recover. Really? Because just 30 seconds ago you acted like I should be able to lead Kinders backwards down the hall and not trip, keeping a crisp walking pace. Yes, the teacher needs eyes in the back of her head, because one necessary skill is walking, leading a line, and facing your precious subjects, as you move toward wherever you are going, guiding little bodies to learn to keep hands to themselves, keep quiet in the hall, keep feet to theirselves and still follow behind the person directly in front of them.

But anyway.... 

there is a some hope interlaced with this clean slate of 2023. Hope that I'll cease to be disabled, according to ME, to what my body can ACTUALLY do, not just what disability says I can do. Hope that I won't be stuck in limbo.

Folks, I have a dilemma that needs it's own blog post. But I'm asking you to send good vibes and prayers about something that would make my life immeasurably easier/better, and seems like an insurmountable mountain. Please take that extra 30 seconds and hold my need near and dear. It does make a difference. It always does. 

Here are the way to help: