Pride and worry

Josiah tells me very little about his days at school. And long gone are the days when I got daily teacher reports. 

I know he struggles with some classes, and seldom asks for help. I know kids can be cruel, and he's often oblivious to the nasty words, but sometimes he knows. He hates to tell me anything negative, and often just won't. Most days after school all he'll talk about is Veggie Tales or something of a similar bent- I'm the only one who listens to all of his thoughts on it, and he knows not to go on about it at school, so he's dying to talk about it after school. It makes it near impossible to find out anything about how he's really doing at school. 

Then he recieves an award for "Individual Achievement- leadership and Respect"

I hear at his ARD meetings how much his teachers adore him. Even the teachers in the classes he struggles in gush over how much they love him.  He'll be fine. 

Gracie adores dance. She's always dancing, and now that she's in classes, it's a little more... Intentional. Tuesday mornings are the only ones I don't have to cajole and threaten to get her out of bed.  The worst part of breaking her collarbone in January was having to miss class.  She was careful- specifically so she could dance again quickly. She is a natural performer, and I'm so proud. 

Tuesday I peeked into the studio to find her sitting and crying. She wanted to go home, and listed any excuse she could think of. Everyone there was as confused as I was. She had the same kind of meltdown at church last night- very unusual. I'd been giving her meds for allergies, and those are notorious for throwing her for a loop. Hopefully that's all it is. 

I found out today that my thyroid levels are high again. I should have known. The doctor asked if I'd been anxious lately. Oooh yeah. Thankfully I have some lower dose meds on hand, so I don't have to wait. 

Maybe I can sleep again. ><

Difference

So much change- so much difference. But still so much stays the same. 

Once more I'm fighting to get back to myself- struggling out of the cavern of depression I've found myself in.  Odd how even at my buisiest I manage the time to mope. 

Gracie's loving dance class- dancing all the time! And I'm enjoying the company of other moms again. Her days are filled like mine once were- fantasy rules. Dragons, princesses, and such. She still doesn't eat though, and it's a costant worry for me. She has energy to spare, but for how long?  

Josiah's doing fairly well so far in high school, though in many ways he's more like an 8 year old. Though not many 8 year olds are 6 ft 1.  And the level of stress he carries is more akin to middle age. 

And then there's Peter. Yes, another suprise. I thought I was facing the start of menopause, but instead, at 21 weeks, found I was expecting again. Peter Troy, (Troy being Matt's grandfather- Peter was born on his birthday) is happy, healthy, and a handful. Thankfully he sleeps well- through the night at 3 months-his siblings didn't untill they were 2& 4 years old!

6 days before Peter arrived, we moved into a new house. That was a long hard journey of its own. Best and worst in people really came out, and I'm aftaid some of the bad was me. (Though an anemic 8 month pregnant woman having to live from a suitcase with 2 kids for a week has to be given some grace.) I am still working at getting everything unpacked, organized, and decorated. Most days my to-do list is half everyday chores, and half upgrades. When I even get to finish the list. 

I feel so worn. Missing part of myself, and it's been replaced by something grumpy. 

Change is inevitable. But at the same time, I don't want myself to change- I don't want to loose my free spirit. It's been chained so long, the shackles chafe. But I think once I look again, they are not shackles, but bracers- part of the armor of the warrior mom I am. I'm still standing, and that's a battle won.