Our Giggles and Grimaces

All to the Glory of God–that is why I blog and share my story so openly.  I want others to know it is possible to live and parent well with mental illness.  This, by necessity, causes my posts to be brutally honest, and that is not always pretty.

I have always endeavored to live by the verse 2 Corinthians 12:9

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

I know I have talked a lot about what makes Bipolar Disorder difficult.  Want to know why?  Because it is.  Even when I am very, very stable, it is difficult.

Bipolar does not “just” make you happy or sad, it affects how you feel emotions.  For example, my daughters have been begging for a dog for MONTHS.  My hubby and I have both had dogs and love them, but we were enjoying not having to clean up poop, or take a dog out, or clean up dog hair, or find someone to take care of the dog when we are out of town.  So, we said no.

They kept begging.  Over time, I softened.  I remembered how nice and calming it is to have a dog curl up with you and to sit and pet the dog, and just that love you get from a dog.

I decided a dog was worth all the trouble.

Daddy still needed some convincing.

Then, out of the blue, daddy told me he was on board with getting a dog.

I went to work looking for one.  I visited animal shelters, I went to rescue events, I searched the internet by the hour.  I applied for a dog.  I called on dogs.  Nothing.  I was getting so frustrated with the process of applications, home visits, references.  All of it.

Until Wednesday.

I found this little gem and decided to try one more application.

I  had to provide info on place of employment, references, vet information–the whole bit.  I submitted it and we were approved about 20 minutes later!!!  Daddy and I got pretty excited as we kept our secret.  I told the girls we had to go shopping for a few puppy items to donate to an animal shelter since we didn’t have our own dog.
They bought it.  They even believed that the lady bringing him over was just a friend of mine visiting.  Daddy and I looked at him, asked our questions and decided he was the one.  We asked the girls what they thought and they were non-committal…until they figured out we meant to keep him.  Sue finally said, “wait–we’re getting a dog!!!  EEEEEEEKKKKKK”

I had worked for months and weeks to make this happen.  The girls were so happy.  Hubby was impressed with the puppy, and I panicked.

My anxiety went up so, so fast!  I started crying and shaking.

I wanted to enjoy this so much.  Soooo much.  And what do I get?

Anxiety and sadness.  Lots and lots of anxiety and sadness.

Such an exciting fun thing.

And the Bipolar stole it from me.

I know it will be okay.  We are having a great time with him.  He is learning SO quickly, the girls are taking their new responsibilities very seriously.  He is already part of the family.  I am sure we made the right decision, but right now, I am just sad, and a little mad, that the Bipolar has stolen from me again.

Again.
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Last night I cooked a whole chicken for my family.  I bought it months ago and ended up throwing it in the freezer waiting for a good time to cook it.  But that time never came because I never remembered to take it out to thaw.

But then last week, I got an early Christmas present.  Amazon had an amazing sale on an Instant Pot, and electric pressure cooker, and I read you could cook frozen meat in it.  I pulled out that chicken, planning to cook it Wednesday night, but when it came time to cook it frozen, I got cold feet, and ended up waiting another day to let it thaw in the refrigerator.  So last night was the night…I was going to cook this chicken.  And it was going to be falling off the bone when it was done.  And everyone was going to love it.

It sort of turned out that way.  It was fall off the bone in no time.  The whole family ate it, which is close to loving it, and no one complained about it.  Thing is, I’m not sure how sold I am on the chicken.  Maybe I am just too spoiled by Costco Rotisserie chickens.  They can’t be natural, I mean look at the size of them, but they sure are yummy.  And literally no work at all.  Hmmmm.

But to be honest, none of that is the point of this post.

I’ve been thinking a lot about food lately.  Not about what I eat, though that is a constant battle as food is often the enemy for me, but rather, how we use food in our lives.

Recently, a dear friend and  her family were brought to a challenge.  A big one.  They are walking through the situation as beautiful beacons of Christ.  I am just trying to be the hands and feet of Jesus in their lives.  My first response to this new life event for them–can I bring a meal?  I’m bringing over some freezer meals for you.

And I wasn’t alone in my response.  Many people brought food…and we all keep asking if we can bring more.

It is that way when life is hard, it is that way when our lives are overflowing with joy–like a birth or adoption, family gatherings, church events.  Anything that brings us together involves food.

It is the essence of our lives.  It brings us together.

Sometimes when I bring food to someone, it is made from scratch, other times it is bought in the store, but regardless, it is my love and support in a tangible way.

What are your thoughts on food?  Do you take meals to other?   Are they homemade or store-bought?  Does your family have a particular food they eat at the holidays that doesn’t get eaten the rest of the year?

You know what is hard about blogging?  When you want to write, but your brain is stuck on something you are not quite ready to talk about.  Of course, anytime you decide to write, that is all your brain can think about.

It is annoying.  And can keep me from writing for days.

But not today.  I have two stories to tell–one horribly embarrassing and one that I found so cute and encouraging.

We’ll start with my embarrassment.  Actually, scratch that, we’ll start with the cute, stick with chronological order…

The girls and I had to go to an appointment today.  Patrice asked where we were going.  Caitlyn says, “we’re going to the doctor.”  “Why??” queries Patrice.  “Because you need shots,” my ever so helpful Caitlyn says.

“No I don’t, I had three last time we went!!’

She gotcha there Caitlyn.

On we drive.

As we are getting out of the car at the doctor office, Patrice says, “when you get a shot they say it hurts for a second, but it doesn’t.  It hurts for 2 seconds!!  So last time I got shots, it hurt for 6 seconds!!”

Now we have been going at multiplication with the older girls hard and heavy lately so I say to her, “did you use multiplication to figure that you?”  “Sure mommy, whatever that is!!”  “Did you times it Patrice?”  “No, I added it on my fingers like this!!”

(Yes, I made her recreate on her pudgy little fingers counting out how her shots hurt for 6 seconds.)

I watched her count and I saw cuteness and hope–hope that THIS kid, unlike the other two, will get multiplication easily when it is her turn!

We finish the appointment and head home.  I unlock the front door and drop a few things in the house, then head out for a few more things thinking, I can grab them before I run to the bathroom.  I leave the keys in the front door and my phone on the kitchen table.  The storm door latches behind me as I head to the car.  And STAYS latched no matter how hard I push when I am done in the car.  Stays firmly latched.  It won’t budge.

Caitlyn swears she didn’t but I absolutely know she laughed at me as I stood there desperately trying to open the door before it was too late.  “Go to the neighbors, go to the neighbors mommy.”

“It’s. too. late.”

So then we start looking for a way in…the back door  was firmly locked.  As were all the windows.  The girls kept working on that angle as I wrestled with the storm door.  There was no getting the door open, but, in case you were wondering, the top pane of glass comes out of our storm door.  And is now sitting safely in the house.

Hubby can put it back in.

I am kind of over this day.

Over and out.