The Mom ChroniclesJust another AreaVoices site

Well, moms. We’re finally here. Christmas is just days away and soon we will be reaping the benefits of all of our hard work and preparations that we made to make this a truly memorable holiday for each of our families. The buying, the wrapping, the decorating, the baking is (hopefully) coming to an end and perhaps we are finally having the opportunity to just sit back and take in the joy and wonder that comes in this remarkable holiday.
That said, this year I decided to give each of you a gift in the form of writing my own rendition of “The Night Before Christmas”. It’s a tribute to moms and the hard work that goes in to making the holidays as special as they are for our families. So grab a cup of coffee or hot cocoa, prop your feet up, and enjoy. To each of you and yours, a very Merry Christmas.
 
Twas a few days before Christmas and all through the house, it’s the mom who is hustling and bustling, who else?
Baking cookies and wrapping and decorating galore, making preparations that Santa will get all the credit for.
While tucking the children tight in to bed, she scares thoughts of snooping right out of their heads!
And in those days as she craves just a nap, instead she’s in Target getting last minute gift wrap.
Ouside the sidewalk fills up with snow, “When will there be time to shovel?” she woes.
So she shoos the children out to play, praying somehow they will take it away. Perhaps if she tells them a snowman to build, they’ll use the snow on her sidewalks to form it she willed.
With the children all bundled in boots and snowgear, why who should appear but a snowblower and a neighbor she holds dear!
Bundled up from head to toe, he’s here to help out and throw her snow.
So sighing a great sigh of relief, she returns inside to hang a last wreath.
For in days all too short and in the wee hours that draw near, it is Santa who the children hope will come with his reindeer.
No, it’s not mom who they want Christmas day, but the man in the red suit and the gifts on his sleigh.
Yet she forges ahead in all of her work, humming a holiday tune with a smerk.
As while it is Santa who gets all the praise, there is one thing she gets that drives her in all these days.
It’s the joy on her kids faces on Christmas morn, as giftwrap is pulled and wripped and torn.
She’s taught them of giving and generosity to others, and about being kind to your sisters and brothers. She’s brought them to donate a toy for a tot and put money in the red kettle next to the parking lot.
Then on Christmas morn when it appears the last gifts have been unwrapped, a hand made one appears on her lap.
Standing in front of her with eyes all a glow, are her children who give the best gift, they know.
Wrapped up in a hand decorated brown lunch sack, she is certain it’s better than anything in Santa’s sack.
Inside she finds hand made gifts of love, an ornament, a picture frame and little white dove.
And in those moments as she wraps her arms round her kids, comes all the thanks for everything she did.
‘Cuz it’s not about the busy or preparations we make, or all of the goods we try to bake.
No, it’s the love and sharing from those we hold dear, and the ones we love being close and near.
It’s about teaching our kids to give and to share, and how to show others how much they care. And when the sun sets on Christmas day, it’s knowing they’ve been given more then just things in which to play.
That as Santa’s sleigh drives out of sight, everyone truly has a Merry Christmas and good night.

The Mom Chronicles: A season for Hope
 
Tis the season! The season of lights. The season of giving. The season of jolly. The season of hope.
This past weekend as we were snowed in like so many of you I had a lot of time to lounge around and ponder life. While it would have been nice to be able to go outside and play, the weather wasn’t exactly condusive to doing so. So instead as I lay curled up in my bed,my thoughts were inspired by a number of recent events and as I pondered them one theme seemed to emerge:hope.
First on my mind was the recent stories of vandalism we have heard. As I shared earlier in the fall my family fell victim to such thoughtless acts when our pumpkins were stolen. Two weeks later I walked out my front door to find a car covered in ketchup. Certainly both events left me scratching my head wondering what kind of town I am raising my kids in. Sharing these stories with others, I heard others share their stories of things stolen or vandalized in their yards. On the heels of this has now come the thoughtless, cruel act of the spray painting of homes and cars, and even Chad’s snowman and hot tub being targeted. Now I admit my initial reactions to these things were that our police department may need to step it up a bit in their patroling. Also that we have some kids in this town in serious need of more constructive, respectful things to do with their time and parents who need to step up and provide them. But my thoughts could not stay here in reading the story last week of how people from this same town that has produced delinquents, has also produced the kind of people that would join together and carol on the doorstops of the innocent people who were impacted by these disgusting acts of others. My own family was touched by similar kindness when a neighbor anonymously left us new pumpkins on our front steps after ours were taken. And so while I continue to feel sad about the dark side of Hastings which has emerged, I also now feel a sense of hope. Hope that there are enough good people in this community to outweigh the bad. Hope that this will be a good place to raise my kids and that these events do not represent the community as a whole. Hope that next year our holidays will not be touched by the unkind hands of others.
Another source of hope I found this weekend lies with in my kids. As my daughter is wrapping up in her final sessions of physical therapy and she is making substantial improvements in her gross motor development, I find hope in the fact that she has made progress and in time will hopefully be able to fully keep up with her peers. We are not quite there yet, but we are getting there. As for my son his recent diagnosis of ADHD has been a tremendous source of hope. It has opened him up to being able to receive various therapies and has seen his first speech therapy sessions which were able to be productive and show growth. I have hope for his future and it feels good.
Hope has also emerged in the form of an early ultrasound I had this week. After losing our last two, this baby I have on board has continued to grow and develop and we were able to see it’s beautiful beating heart and little body forming. There is no guarantee things will stay this way or that this baby will also not be lost, but we have new hope in the form of an encouraging ultrasound that perhaps our family will be growing after all.
As it pertains to my continuing school, I have hope here as well. I just completed my third semester back at college and it feels good. I feel a new sense of purpose and direction. While it is taking longer then I hoped and my desire to be a paramedic isn’t an easy road to be venturing on in this stage of my life, it is one I remain commited to. I continue to do well and have overcome multiple adversities in my being back. Each day when I see the ambulance come past my house I still have hope that one day I will be working on it. Hope.
Now, while it would be easy to try to find hope in material things like a new Vikings stadium now that ours is apparently on its last leg, or in such things as money or other earthly things, the reality is that the things which provide us with the most hope, the things that mean the most, are the things that emerge because of or in the form of other people. I have hope in the good of others because of the kind lady at Emily’s bakery that takes time each time I am in to show genuine interest and concern for myself and my family even when life isn’t all that bright for her right now. I have hope in the good of others because of my daughter’s speech therapist Dana who has provided valuable resources and insight for both my children to my family. I have hope in the good of others as I watched strangers shovel and push each other out this past weekend amid this massive snowstorm. And finally I have hope in others because for each act of vandalism or thoughtless actions of others, there are a dozen acts of generosity and kindness of human spirit that emerge that over shadow them. And so for that I am happy that this season, I have so much to be hopeful for.

The Mom Chronicles: Memories in the Making
 
Family traditions. They are one of the things that make the holidays sentimental and give a sense of joy and calm amid what can become a very fast paced, chaotic time.
My family is no different. We, too are observing some of our many holiday traditions as we enjoy this wonderful time of the year. Among my favorite, is getting our tree. One tradition my family has adopted (and one i think my husband would rather I forget about) is going to a tree farm and cutting down our own tree. This year was no different. So this weekend was our weekend to go and we all got bundled up and headed out. Well, almost all of us. As my kids and I sported snowpants, boots, mittens, hats and mutliple layers, my husband goes out in sneakers, jeans and a heavy hooded sweatshirt. I can tell already this is setting up to be a fabulous outing. He insists he will be “fine” and we are on our way.
So off we go to Hampton Hills tree farm. I inquire if my husband took the time to look at the directions I set out for him. Apparently he felt confident in his ability to get us there with out doing so. So we journey south and as I sit in the passenger seat playing on my Blackberry my husband gets increasingly irritated with me. He knows the road to get there is somewhere, and it would be nice if I paid attention to try to help him find it. He wasn’t too thrilled when I suggested he just pay attention to where all the vehicles with the trees tied atop of them were coming from.
Eventually, we did reach our destination and so starts our search for the perfect tree. Now, if there is one thing you should know about me it is that I am a bit peculiar about my trees. I can’t have just any one. I have a certain “type” and just any tree doesn’t fulfill the requirements to be my perfect tree. Naturally finding the perfect tree can take some time. So my husband, after getting sick of driving up and down rows of trees with me shouting at him to slow down so I could look, finally decided to drop my son and I off. He and my daughter would wait in the car. So my son and I set out to find a tree. “This one mom!” “How about that one?” Oh, he has so much to learn, I thought. And then I found one. Maybe. So I motion my husband out of the car. Are you sure, he asks. I nod, and then proceed to walk towards a couple other trees I had not yet checked out. I liked that tree, but didn’t quite get that “feeling” from it. Wouldn’t you know on my venture further back in to the rows I found a tree that did give me a bit of a warm fuzzy. It was a cute little tree, I thought. And so I yelled for my husband to come to where I was. There he comes trudging through the several inches of snow in his sneakers with my daughter who was crying because she was cold and I ask his opinion. He doesn’t care. I instruct him to wait there while I go back to the first tree. As I do so he yells for my son to bring him the saw. Apparently he was going to make the decision for me. Certainly this could not be. So I went back to the first tree, realized it didn’t give me that loving feeling and confirmed that indeed the tree he stood by was “it”. We found our tree.I found our tree.That was only half the battle.
Now for sawing the tree down. My husband laid down in the snow and began sawing the tree down.When he finished he stood up, cold, wet and covered with snow. As thoughts of “I told you so” in terms of his chosen attire danced in my head, I decided it would not help the situation to express such feelings so I simply keep my mouth shut and he hoisted the tree up on the top of the car, throws a piece of twine over it and says to hold it tight as we were driving up to the tree shaking station. So here we are, driving up the rest of the row each holding a end of the twine that ran through our windows and I am watching the rear view mirror just waiting to see the tree tumble down. Fortunately, we got to our destination with no such happening.
Before heading home we decided to let the kids do the sleigh ride with Santa. As we approach it, though, I feel the tug of my son and then those dreaded words, “Mom! He’s not really Santa!” My heart sank. I think my son finally figured “it” out. So I scramble and ask what makes him think that. “Mom! Santa is up in the sky!” Of course! So I then must explain the whole thing that Santa has helpers and this man is one of Santa’s helpers because Santa is busy making toys. Thankfully, he bought it. We still played the man up as if he was the real deal, but my son I could tell wasn’t going for it. He had met the “real” Santa already, afterall, and in his head this guy was clearly not it.
As we began our venture towards home and the making of another Peterson family tradition neared an end I had to smile to myself. As my husband drove down the road going about fourty miles an hour and we bickered because if I was driving I would be going faster, as others who also had trees atop their cars were, and then amid the bickering he missed the turn for Hastings warm thoughts came to mind.  I smiled inside knowing that another memory was made for my kids. One they will carry with them for years and hopefully start traditions similar with their own families. It won’t matter if they decide on long or short needled trees, whether they cut down their own or go to a lot. What will matter is that they take the time to make memories and traditions with their own families. And I am so happy that I have been able to give them that.

The Mom Chronicles: A Thankful Heart
It’s finally here! Thanksgiving. While its true it is becoming more of a forgotten holiday in this very commercial world we live in, it is important to me to take time to remember this day even when the retailers of America do not.
No, Thanksgiving does not have the flare of other holidays and each year it seems Thanksgiving is forgotten a little more. What Thanksgiving does have though, that other holidays do not lies with in something as simple as it’s name. Thanksgiving is a time to give thanks. While yes, other holidays do bring us together and bring joy in their own ways, Thanksgiving is a time where we can remember the good and the bad. It is a day that exists literally to make us stop and reflect on exactly what it is we are thankful for. While it is sad that it takes such a day for many to truly stop and make such a reflection, it also I believe exists to get our hearts ready to recieve greater gifts in the form of other blessings in the upcoming holiday season. Perhaps we are all a bit more gracious and generous and humble because it exists.
And so I would like to share some of the things that my heart is giving thanks for this year. Additionally I encourage all of you to take a moment to reflect on exactly what it is you are thankful for.
I am thankful for my two beautiful children, and the ones I have lost. I am thankful that they keep me young, while allowing me to teach them lessons of old at the same time. I am thankful for my husband, that while things have not always been wine and roses, is someone who constantly reminds me of who I am and where I came from. I am thankful for my family, my parents who have bent over backwords to support us even when it puts their own needs aside. I am thankful for my grandparents whom have been my spiritual rocks, having lead me in my faith journey, and that my grandmother is still with us fighting through cancer that plagues her body. I am thankful that my car still runs, that there is a roof over my head, and diet coke in my fridge. I am very thankful for diet coke.
I am thankful for the pure faith that runs through my son, and his greetings to Jesus and his siblings who have passed on in the night sky. I am thankful for persistence, as it has lead me to my son’s diagnosis and hope for his future. I am thankful for patience, as it allows me to keep peace with my daughter, even when she is sitting with her arms folded and standing her ground. I am thankful for hot cocoa. I am thankful for the opportunity to be back in school. For the local paramedics and EMT’s who inspired me on my current path in life. I am thankful for firetrucks. I am thankful for organizations like Hastings Family service and Dakota County Human Services for the times when things have gotten rough. I am thankful for the kind neighbor who replaced our stolen pumpkins this past Halloween. I am thankful for my daughter’s rendition of Jingle Bells and her dance moves that accompany it as it reminds me to let go of my own inhibitions and that some days, all you really can do is dance.  I am thankful for free glasses adjustments at Walmart, as my son and his glasses would be up a creek with out them! I am thankful for silence. I am thankful for an incredible, incredible family physician Dr. Peter Schill and his selfless giving of time and support.Without him I wouldn’t be here writing this today. I am thankful for Barb (you know who you are). I am thankful for great friends who don’t abandon, for neighbors and their many kids to occupy mine! I am thankful for the readers of this column, and for the opportunities this has given me. I am thankful for warm sand between my toes, and the rhythmic sounds of waves chasing my kids on the shore. I am thankful for Emily’s and their cookies my kids love. I am thankful for the talented, dedicated people that work with my children through their various therapies, and for the delightful preschool teacher my son has in Miss Erin. I am thankful for butterflies. I am thankful for my fantastic trainer, Cindy, at the Y and her un-Julian Michaels like personalty that makes meeting with her fun and insightful. I am thankful for nausea and the chance it represents in that I have been given the opportunity to grow another child. I am thankful if it doesn’t make it, as the last two didn’t, that it will have a tremendous place in heaven to grow and live instead. Finally I am thankful that I have been given the gift of today to right the wrongs of the past, to makes the paths of the future straighter and to laugh and play with my kids, for far too soon they will be grown and gone and I will miss these days and wish them back to have all over again.
And so while not fully inclusive, these are among the things I am most thankful for this year. Before diving in to your Thanksgiving feast or day after Thanksgiving shopping marathons, I hope you will take a moment to reflect on that which you have been blessed with. That which brings this season meaning to you. 
To all of you, a very blessed and thankful holiday!

My Dearest Moms~

I regret to share with you all that I have lost my baby that I was expecting this July, 2011. I was 13 weeks. Things had been relatively fine until this point. One week there was a vibrant, active little one on the ultrasound, the next week, it was only still with no flicker of a heart.
I underwent a D and E procedure and am having the remains tested for fetal abnormalities. We had just been set up with a genetic counselor, due to a positive screen for a chromosomal problem. I am hoping the results of the studies give me some insight in to why I am having these miscarriages.
This has truly been a devastating time for me. Words can not express the depth of this loss, nor the hole it has left in my heart. This loss occured much later then the previous ones did and I had seen it multiple times through ultrasound and heard it’s little heart beating via doppler.
I am not certain what the future holds for me. I have 2 amazing, radiant children whom I deeply love, but my heart still aches for another. I am not sure if I have the strength to endure another loss, and can only hope and pray that if it is God’s will that it happens for me again.
I ask for your thoughts and prayers during this terrible time. We will be finding out the gender of the baby with the results of the testing so once that happens we will choose a name.
In the mean time, I have one more angel in heaven, and one more bright star in the sky. My arms and heart feel vacent. Some day I hope a new, healthy, living breathing baby will find its way there. Until then, I don’t know the ways of the Lord, but I do know I must trust in Him.

Amy

The Mom Chronicles: Hope for Better Tomorrows

As most of you know by this point I am back in school working on my paramedic degree. As classes resumed a couple weeks ago, I started a new course called “Emergency Response to Crisis”. It is about dealing with various crisis in the field, namely ones that are the result of emotional crisis. To start the discussion, my professor, who also just happens to be a mom, stood on a chair in the front of the class and read us “Alexander’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” by Judith Viorst. For those of you unfamiliar with it, it is about a little boy who from the moment he gets out of bed, has all sorts of bad things happen to him. They literally continue through out his day, and as he seeks to find just one person to acknowledge or validate his feelings that this truly is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day and no one does, he resolves to moving to Australia. Apparently he thinks things are better there.

This past week was a series of terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days in my house. At just about thirteen weeks pregnant, my doctor informed us that our baby screened positive with a high likelihood of having chromosomal problems. Later that same day he was unable to detect a fetal heartbeat. Two days later when he still was unable to detect a heartbeat I was sent over for an ultrasound where my greatest fear was confirmed: this baby too, has passed.

Since this moment, I have been feeling like I have been charged over by a freight train. Struggling to stay out of bed, most moments have felt impossible. This was, after all, three babies in a row that we lost. By the time you all are reading this I will have had a procedure for the remains to be removed and we will be having them tested for genetic problems. There are so many answers I seek.

Yet, as I waited in the doctors office to try to make any sense of this, first and forefront on my mind was how I was going to share this news with my son. He has been, afterall, so very excited. Only days before he had drawn me a picture of he, my daughter and then myself with a big round tummy and little stick figure baby in it. This is the same little boy that had been showering my ever expanding belly with kisses and hugs and telling it secrets.

Telling him went about as well as can be expected telling something like that to a four year old. He got it at his own level, but naturally had a lot of questions. What surprised me though, was his confidence in Jesus and Santa (who he claims live together in heaven) bringing us another baby. They are going to come down the chimney next Christmas and bring us another baby that is going to live. I wish I had his faith. At the moment, I feel fortunate, because where my faith is struggling, its almost as if he has enough for the both of us.

As moms, we have all had these terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days and so have our kids. It’s a part of being human. We can’t escape them by simply moving to another country, or certainly we’d all be living in Australia! What is important as mom’s though, I have learned through the events of this past week, is how we model these days and how we respond to them to our kids. Clearly, if I have done nothing else right I have validated my son on these days, giving him hope of better ones, enough that he would have thost beliefs front and foremost in his mind on a day that I had “one of those days” and be able to share the same hope and comfort for me.

I have spent a lot of time asking a lot of questions the past few days, most of which start with why. I really thought three was a charm. We got that far, it had to work out. So when it didn’t, the loss has felt unbearable.

While I can’t change the events of the past week or make the loss any easier to bear, what I can do is offer advice to any of you who are having similar days. Only, the advice comes from my four year old, not me. That is that in some way or form things will work out. It may not be in our time frame or exactly the way we want, but there are greater beings out there, be it God or Santa or whomever you believe in, that have our best interest in mind. Because one door, even if it was a very big one, closed today, doesn’t mean another won’t be opened up tomorrow.

As for me, I don’t know I will ever be able to find it with in me to go through this again. While I desperately want another child, these losses have been so much to bear. But I remain convinced it has not been with out reason, and I hope if anything perhaps I can be a comfort to someone out there reading this today walking in similar shoes, that while it seems impossible, we can survive. We can get out of bed and do things like write columns. And we can always hope that perhaps someone has something else in store for us. It may be hard to believe in this moment, but I am certain that to believe in a future requires finding a source of hope. With out hope, what do we really have? This week, my son has the hope for my family, at least until I can find my own. May he be a source of hope for you, too this day. Certainly tomorrow can’t possibly be as bad.

The Mom Chronicles: Age Matters

As a mother of two, I face a variety of challenges on a regular basis. However, being a mother of two children of different sexes offers different challenges that until now, I was never required to put much if any thought in to.

You see, it seems I find myself in a bit of unfamiliar territory. As I recognize the changes occuring with in my kids, naturally I want to make the best choices for them as I can. While they have been largely oblivious to the fact, I have been seeking answers lately to questions which will impact them in ways they may never even be aware of.

The answers I have sought are to questions that I am certain all of you parents of siblings of different genders or different sexes then you have wrestled with at one time or another. At what age should siblings of different genders stop bathing together (or should they ever start?) At what age should kids stop being allowed with you in the bathroom? At what age should you stop taking your opposite gender child in to a public restroom with you? At what age should you stop allowing your children to see you less then fully dressed?

While these matters aren’t completely pressing, the time is approaching that I need to soon be making decisions on how to manage these things. And so, I did some research.

What I found was a whole lot of grey. Few, if any black and white answers. Most articles left such matters up to parental discretion and relied heavily on the responses of children in situations.

The one of these matters most clear was the public restroom one. Even now at four and a half sometimes young girls look at my son like he is crazy when he comes in to the bathroom with me in a mall or public place, and I can’t help but wonder if I should be sending him in to the male bathroom on his own. Whenever possible, we use a family restroom, but as many of you are aware of these are not available in most places we encounter.

Some of the guidlines I did find in relation to this matter involved assessing your child’s individual needs. Are they independant in things like zipping, unzipping, wiping, hand washing, latching a stall door, etc or do they still require your help? There is nothing worse then sending my son in to a bathroom, for example, and having him yell to me from inside he needs help wiping, and having to excuse myself in front of other male patrons using the facility to help him. Additionally, is your child showing signs they are uncomfortable using a different sex bathroom? If the answer to the above questions are that they largely still need help in the bathroom and are not embarassed to join you, most sources recommended they still accompany you. If your child is independant in their bathroom tasks and is comfortable going on their own, they should be encouraged to do so. If that is the case, it is important to have a place the child will find you as soon as they are done, or that you wait outside the bathroom door for them. It is also a time where good vs bad touch conversations should start taking place in the event God forbid anything happen in that bathroom when you are not present. Think your child is ready for a solo trip to the bathroom but unsure? Start with family friendly places with relatively small bathrooms like McDonalds or other familiar places. Stand outside the bathroom door and wait for your child, instructing them to call for you if they have any issues. As your child masters and gets more comfortable in such settings, you can expand and allow them to go in to bathrooms in less familiar settings. Remember, you know your child best. Trust yourself to help transition them in this basic activity and trust them to give you feedback.

So how about those other “at what age” questions? As it pertains to different gender bathing, most sources agreed that it was ok through early elementary school, as long as the bathing time is supervised and the kids are not uncomfortable with it. If at any point your child seems uneasy undressing around their different sex sibling or seems embarassed in sharing the tub, that means it is time to call it quits. Naturally questions and curiosity of differences in bodies are likely to emerge, but avoiding different sex baths in your kids just to avoid having to deal with this issue won’t help in the long run. If your kids do wonder about the differences in their bodies, take the opportunity to educate them in an age appropriate way. Use the name of body parts rather then nicknames, and don’t make a big deal out of it. Curiosity is a natural part of getting older and kids are likely to have questions. These same guidlines appear to be applicable for my other “at what age” questions.

Currently, while my kids are not yet asking many questions and as a mom that doesn’t get a lot of breaks, I take times like my time I go to the bathroom to teach the kids about “privacy”. My daughter loves hanging out in the bathroom with me, and so I have talked with her about mom needing privacy and what that means. Now she is using the same freedom when she goes to use the bathroom to say, “Mommy, Ella needs privacy”. I think this has been excellent in teaching her self respect in a way she is too young to even recognize right now.

While these answers remain somewhat vague, I feel a little better having explored some of these inquiries. More then anything I have learned to trust my judgement and trust the cues my kids give me. These are some of the many decisions we as parents need to make, and while it can be difficult with as many different vues about such matters as there are families, each family must decide what is right for them based on their own values, beliefs, etc. I hope as you deal with these tender matters with your family that you, too are able to trust your children and gut to guide you.

My New Peanut… Due 7/29/11.