Boy & the Band

Have you ever had a memory of something so sweet, so funny, that you store it in your mind to to make you smile on the bad days?  Anyone who knows me has heard about my son.  He is my pride, my joy, the day he was born was the first day I truly experienced love at its best.  I have a million and one memory's of him with many more to come that carry me through awful moments, terrible days at work etc.......and today he gave me a fresh new one that I would like to share.........that's if I can stop laughing and type.

This is my boy, and yes those glasses are real and yes he picked them out himself.  Hes funny and outgoing, loves soccer and makes new friends easily and he is the biggest geek in all good senses of the word.  He LOVES ALL super heroes, loves Lego and reading and is seriously addicted to Star Wars much to his fathers (king Geek) approval.

This week they had an assembly at school.  A local orchestra had come to play for all the children (the school runs from k-8) and all the little kindergartens where sitting up front.  The teaches expected it may be a tad boring for them, sadly there isn't much interest in orchestras or classical music with kids these days.
Yet as the instruments warmed up my sons eyes widened and as the music turned into the Star Wars theme.....well the Orchestra had acquired a new fan.  To hear his teacher tell it, my son jumped to his little feet, threw his fists in the air and screamed "they are playing my song" as if he was at the greatest rock concert every preformed.  The teachers got a good giggle and the thought makes me burst into laughter but what happens next delights me even more.  The only way they could contain my sons joy and get him to settle so the rest of the kids could hear was with the promise that he could speak to the conductor and the orchestra afterwards.  He sat mystified for the rest of the performance waiting for his chance to meet these people.  When the little concert was done he clapped loudly, hooted, and attempted to whistle (he can't whistle, lol), till his teacher took his hand and brought him up to the performers.

Members of the Orchestra were delighted to meet him and shook his little hand and even gave him an encore performance of his favorite song when he requested.  His school as well as the conductor took pictures of him standing proudly with the band, as my son told them he would definitely bring his Mommy to hear them next time they played.

By the time he got home his joy hadn't died down and he was trying his best to whistle his favorite song between talking about how someday he was going to be part Orchestra and play "the superman song and the star wars song, and does harry potter have a song mom?"

He certainly earned his geeky little reputation between his dad and I and we couldn't be prouder, who knows maybe some day he will be playing with a big orchestra, right now we're just trying to get him to "whistle something else"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MO6oIF8O6yk&list=RDMO6oIF8O6yk#t=0

Just Words

Words have long since inspired man kind.  They have provided us comfort, expressed our emotions, lifted a wary soul, inspired faith not to mention spark the imagination, to only name a few.  A simple compliment, a few spoken words can leave a lasting impression and throughout history words have inspired men to fight for theirs and their countries honor.


                                        “Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.” 
                                         ― Rudyard Kipling


Amazing how something we use nearly every min of every day can do so much isn't it?  You would think with such power we would be more selective with the words we speak or write.  If words can inspire so much would it not be our responsibility as human beings to choose the words that will help lift and inspire those around us?  One doesn't have to be Kipling or Dickens to inspire, tho I must say I always thought my words meaningless, after all I'm just me, not a great poet or author.  That changed recently.  I was laying in bed reading a story to my son, who is in kindergarten, and he surprised me by reading the next line in the story.  I was thrilled and turned to him my heart bursting with pride "I'm so proud of you" I told him.  Now I've said these words to him many many times before, but something about this moment made me watch his face as my words registered.  He became proud of himself just by me using those five simple words. His little face lite up and a big smile crossed his face.  He read the next line for me and the line after that.  How wonderful that I could say something, that was so easy to say, and have such a profound effect.

                                       Words are keys to the heart
                                        Chinese Proverb

I spent that night flipping through memories,  that had greatly effected me for the positive.  I thought of the day my mother told me how proud she was that I was her daughter,  I thought of my grandmother telling me not to be afraid that God was walking with us, and I remembered my grandfather kissing my shoulder and telling me he was proud of me, these tid bits of words spoken that burned their way into me and left their lasting impression.  I pondered some of the darker moments of my childhood,  and found words that left there impression there as well.  Angry words that seeped into the hidden places of myself and I began to believe.  Its funny, the good words lift us and can inspire us, but we allow the darker words a deeper place inside ourselves.  We let them fester till them become a cancer and we believe them.  I began to wonder why this was, why the hurtful words were so much easier to believe.  Maybe its because we secretly already believe these things about ourselves before they are said, maybe its because in this day and age the darker words come easier from our mouths then the ones that inspire.  We are all guilty at some point of saying something to someone that we wish we could take back, and we are all guilty of leaving words unsaid that should have been spoken.

                        Because even the smallest of words can be the ones to hurt you, or save you.” 
                             ― Natsuki Takaya

As you can tell I came up with no answers as to the whys, but I did gain a bit of knowledge for who I want to be and what I intend to strive for in the future.  I will never be Browning or Dickens (two of my favorites), chances are my words will not be read and celebrated for generations to come.  I will never give an amazing speech to inspire the masses, or speak words of such courage that men will march to war, but I CAN begin to make the world around me a little better.  I can compliment that stranger with the great shoes that I pass and leave them feeling good all day.  I can remind those around me that I love them each time we speak even if their own words don't always let them say it back.  I can remind my son of all the wonderful things he does, so some day when he reflects on his past there are more good words and then bad ones to look back on.  My words may never inspire the masses but they can still inspire.

Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.
Ephesians 4:29

Panic!!!

I can feel it instantly, this cold feeling spreading through my body, like i'm freezing from the inside out.  I begin to sweat, cause the outside of my body is warm despite how i feel inside.  I look down to see my hands are shaking as I feel my insides begin to seize and my body feels like it weighs a million pounds.  I can barely move but my heart is racing so hard I can feel my neck jumping and its steady whoomp whoomp filling my ears.  The room is spinning, each breath bursts from me and the air somehow seems to have gotten thicker, its so hard to breathe.  Am i dying?  is this a heart attack brought on suddenly?  Should seek out help?.  Panic grips me and I lean back in my chair and close my eyes "its just another panic attack" I tell myself and within mins my heart slows back to normal, my body feels like its mine again and I can continue playing with my son.

That's how life is for me, no great and sudden stress, no haunting moment of extreme fear, I was simply playing with my son when my body was seized by panic even tho my mind knew nothing was wrong with my current situation.  Its been this way my whole life, I remember having my first panic attack at 5 and they have only grown steadily stronger as I've aged.  I hate every second of it, I hate that my body doesn't feel like its my own, I hate that I know nothing is wrong but can't help the panic and dread I fear.  Its debilitating sometimes, embarrassing at others, and a constant mystery as to what will bring it on one second to another. It leaves me misunderstood sometimes, thought of as over dramatic at others, and to some ......weak.

Data from a Canadian Community  Health surrey estimated that 3.7% of the population in 2002 , aged 15 and older suffered from some form of panic disorder (man is disorder the correct word cause that is EXACTLY what your body feels like its in) among woman the the rate was 4.6 (take from http://www.statcan.gc.ca/daily-quotidien/041129/dq041129b-eng.htm).  The good news is I'm not alone......the bad news.......panic disorders are still so misunderstood.

One day at work my little alarm rang on my phone.  I made my way over to my purse, took out my pill case and reached for my water to find my fellow employee looking at me.  She asked what I was taking not thinking I had anything to be ashamed of I answered her question

"its an anti-depressant" I said.  She looked at me slightly confused and said "but you seem so happy"

I am happy, and thanks to my medication, yoga, some breathing exercises and alot of self coaching my panic attacks are coming few and farther between, but they aren't gone.  I know tomorrow I could be having the best day of my life, walk outside and seize in panic over nothing.

So here are my last thoughts to those with panic attacks and those without.  To those with, see your doctor, breathe, as scary as it seems in that moment it will be ok in time.  Find someone who understands and talk, its done me a world of good just to feel understood.

To those without, chances are you know someone suffering, so from someone who knows keep this in mind:

Remember that thoughts and behaviors due to anxiety disorders are NOT personality traits!!!!!

Our fear may seem unrealistic to you, but it feels VERY REAL to us.  Remember a time you yourself have felt real fear and you may be able to empathize with how we are feeling during an attack.

.  People naturally want to help a loved one by taking care of everyday tasks but this can leave us feeling even more crippled by our attack

Be patient, we need to be with our bodies till the panic attack subsides so be so with us.



My love and prayers to you all....................I'm going back to playing with my son!

Where Will Our History Go?

I was reading an article in Readers digest today, yes I read it and i'm under 50, about a woman who lost her mother but found her through the writings she left behind.  It was touching and a moving story and got me to thinking about my grandmother, my mother and my son.

In the article the woman found letters, journals, a whole family history while combing through her mothers things after her death.  She rediscovered the woman who raised her, the woman her mother was before she was a mother, the deep love her mother had for her father.  I can say that my mother, myself, and i'm sure other family members had these same type of revelations while helping to clean up my grandmothers things after her passing.  It was a gift from her in a time when I was hurting greatly, a chance to feel closer to her again from a few scraps of paper found here and there.  Journals kept, letters written, old cards that she kept and pictures I drew as a child reminded me that she loved me, and I her.

My mother is an avid writer, keeping journals and books of poetry and stories.  Hopefully the day is long off when I will have to collect her things and sort through them, but I know with a certainty I will receive the same gift my grandmother left for me.......words! Ink on paper, thoughts, feeling, the private things that make the people we love the people we love so much.  And tho alot of what I found about my grandmother was stuff I already knew, her words were something I could hold on to, it was like getting to keep a piece of her.

My thoughts soon led to my son.  Thankfully i'm an avid journaler as my mother is, but in this day and age its a dying trait.  We live in the land of Facebook and twitter.  A place where instead of carefully placing photos into albums we post them straight from our phones without the need to develop them.  When my day on this earth is done and my son is seeking the same comfort I got from finding my grandmothers words, what will he find?  Shall I leave him my passwords on a scrap of paper?  Shall he log into my face book to see the trivial things I posted on a daily bases, the games I played?  Will he seek solace in my little jokes and statuses?  Shall I leave him the combo to my phone so that he can see that I took daily snap shots of him because I love his beautiful little face?  Shall I leave him my email passwords so that he can see the countless emails I sent out to friends and family announcing his accomplishments and our pride in him? Will he know and remember the stories of how his father and I fell in love and how much we wanted a child?

Thankfully I've kept love letters from my husband, letters from my mother and grandmother from when I was younger and years worth of journals but how many of us can say the same?  What will we leave for our children to know us, to get comfort when their worlds no longer have us in it?  How will we let them know of our joys our struggles our losses the things that make us human.

Maybe......just maybe, as wonderful as this information age is, maybe there are some "old fashioned" things we should be fighting a little harder to keep.  Some how I don't think my son will gain the comfort i found in my computer.  So this year I think i'll journal more, maybe fill my journal with pictures of our summer, and I might actually send a letter to his grandmother................the old fashioned way!!!!!  Hes worth the effort, and part of being a mom is thinking about our children's future..........even when we're not here.