But the long and short of it is, after just 2 days trying out the "autoimmune diet" to see if this would help with my recurrent episodes of joint pain...I am throwing in the towel. The diet consists of relying mainly on fruits and vegetables, which I have really already been doing. But I have always leaned more toward the Mediterranean diet myself and felt good on it. The autoimmune diet eliminates dairy, legumes, and whole grains, and is heavy on meat, eggs, and oils. My stomach has never handled meat, eggs, or oils well, and I have felt sick for 2 days. Apparently it is not for me.
I have been putting off calling the doctor to add the rheum labs to my coming up routine bloodwork, as we discussed when I went in for this symptom a couple months ago. But I'm not putting it off because of why you would think. It's not because I am scared of bad results. Honestly, I'm a person who would rather know if there really is something wrong.
It's because I am kind of afraid it's actually something like fibromyalgia, and if that's the case and it's just going to be an annoying pain disorder that causes no damage, then I am perfectly content to ignore it. It's not that bad. There is always that niggling feeling in the back of my mind like...I don't want to be the crippled mom of 3 boys in 10 years, which is why I will eventually give up and get the bloodwork done. But it goes to show that you really have no idea about anything until you experience it yourself, and that you should really explore the judgments of your own heart because dude....I have secretly kind of always thought that fibromyalgia was some disorder that women got in their middle age who were unloved and lonely and unhappy and stuffed their feelings so that they manifested themselves physically.
I am dearly loved. I seriously have the best husband ever. He hugs and kisses me, and tells me he loves me every day. He holds my hand. He smiles at me over our childrens' heads even when he is totally worn out. My kids love me too. They follow me around constantly talking to me, they fight over whose turn it is to get in my lap, they make elaborate Lego creations for me that take an hour to build when I tell them that I will play with them for 20 minutes.
My parents and brothers and sisters, and JT's parents and brothers and sisters love me. And I have a few really good friends, though I haven't been a great friend since my kids were born because...just....when?
I waited outside of Aquaman's first grade classroom the first day next to the class mom from his class last year. Her twins are in his class again. She told me how they spent most of their summer out of town and out of the state. How they had season passes to Sea World, and how they celebrated the twins' birthday. Another classmate's father joined us and invited us to his son's birthday. He said he and his wife live on Lansing Island and are planning a big party. He said they spent their summer driving all the way up the northeast coast and visiting all kinds of interesting places.
But beachside schools and parents can take some of the wind out of your sails.
Aquaman is becoming more aware of the effects of money. I was sitting there hoping that these parents wouldn't notice that, apart from the fancy new outfit I treated him to the first day of school, most of his clothes are used, and that I am still trying to figure out how we are going to afford to take him to Legoland for one day for his birthday...because I told him we would months ago before the bills for CT scans and soccer and school supplies.
Sometimes I feel almost...ashamed that we struggle. Like it is our fault...we are lazy...
I could make a decent income if I worked full time.
But what about our kids? Devoting my time to them is amazing...but it's not exactly always easy.
And JT is already working full-time, sometimes overtime, and just applied for a second job.
So I don't think laziness is exactly the right word.
Besides, I can see how what JT does really matters, and how he is meant to be where he is. How his love emanates from him, comforts and encourages those around him.
You can't put a price on that.
"Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."
"Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial; for once he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him."
What an amazing promise. What love He has for us.
Under the pressure of holding it together so so completely for 3 hours in a row....he totally melted as soon as I picked him up. Became completely unreasonable. Didn't want to buckle in, didn't want to even sit right side up in his seat. At pickup for Aquaman on Friday, he snatched toys out of Greystoke's hands and made him cry. And when I stopped him from doing that, he tried to knock over another unsuspecting wobbly legged 11 month old. And when I stopped him from doing that, he began to scream and flail around in usual Dude fashion. Then the bell rang. Aquaman emerged from his classroom and rolled his eyes at the teacher, saying something about little brothers. He once told me that he worried people would think he was "from a bad family" when they saw The Dude's outlandish behavior.
So yeah, Post School Dude is going to take some getting used to.
But I am not at home full time. I need to work, it is God's plan for me and I have accepted that. And my work matters. And not only that, but abundantly beyond what I can imagine, God has blessed my children so far in school. So far, Aquaman has gotten the perfect teacher for each particular stage in his life....kindergarten she was gentle and laid back and let him sit beside her and did not push him. Tk1, she pushed him a little more. But gently, and respectfully. And first grade...so far, his teacher is exciting and kind and makes learning fun. But insists on solid work.
Sweet, sensitive, growing boy.
Even though this week was crazy with work, the rest of the month, I can tell we are going to hit a stride again, and that is a great feeling.
Greystoke and I will have time together. Time to be quiet with each other. I love that time with him. My older two are hoarse one day and fine the next. The struggle over the years has been to determine how much is reflux and how much is pure vocal cord abuse. They never stop talking. Aquaman's first GI doctor commented on it when he was just 2.5...."I have never really heard a 2 year old never stop talking like that..."
I love their words, and am proud of their verbal prowess...
but perhaps, like me, Greystoke's words will come easier in the click of the keyboard, or pen on paper.
He still loves to read. Clutching the stuffed dog he picked out himself when I was not planning to let him pick anything.
I did want him to find some sort of lovey though, since he needs an extra lot of snuggles, to ease the weaning transition in the future, and apparently he found it himself. As laid back as he is, there are a few things he does want with certainty.