"Where the Red Fern Grows"

This morning as I walked over the snow covered trails of the fields behind our subdivision, I remembered one of my favorite children's books, "Where the Red Fern Grows" by Wilson Rawls.  I don't remember the teacher or the grade, but I remember listening to her read this wonderful story about a boy and his two Redbone Coonhounds.  Years later, I read the book to my boys.  We also watched the movie, but the book holds the nostalgia. 

As the stories of young Billie took me through the Ozark Region of Oklahoma, I dreamed of having my own dogs to roam the mountains.  Well, I didn't have the gumption to ask for a Coonhound let alone go to all the trouble of saving money or finding any hound pups.  Instead, I roamed the mountains with my cousins on horseback with the old collie Max and Jim (I can't remember his breed).  In the years since, I roamed the trails by myself or on a mountain bike in the Helena Forest.  In the Kootenai Forest, I took my parents black lab.

In reality, I don't think my dad would have let me have a hound.  My cousin had hounds that drove dad crazy.  In the summer we spent weeks on end at my uncle's cabin with Lincoln baying all night long.  Yes, he annoyed me as well, but I loved the sound.  To this day when I hear a hound bay, I grin.  I always wanted to go on a hunt with my cousin and Lincoln, but in my younger years I wouldn't have been able to keep up.  When I became older, I was too busy being a teenage girl (eye roll) or a bill paying adult (frown).

So, why didn't I ever get a hound in all these years?  Oh, there are quite a few reasons.  I believe to have a hound you need to live a distance from your neighbors to not drive them crazy.  Also, my career took me down the path of a busy soldier and mother who lives very close to town to be able to run kids back and forth.  I have learned to enjoy the convenience of town life and not driving on snowy roads the longer distances.  Besides, my husband trumps dogs and he isn't a fan of the four-legged creatures.

However, this past spring, he relented with the no dog slogan to let my daughter get a potential therapy dog for her panic attacks and social anxiety.  I did a lot of research and I didn't pick a good breed of dog for therapy, but I picked a very friendly, active breed.  I wanted Madelle to get plenty of exercise walking with him and playing.  Alas, she didn't take to that part of the dog, but he does help her when she needs snuggle time.

Instead, the dog helps me a ton.  He has ended up being my companion dog.  I walk him daily and we spend tons of time together.  But on the walk today, I couldn't help but wonder if one of the reasons I picked a Beagle is that they are part of the hound class.  As we walked the trails, I watched him work.  His nose to the ground, he followed the tracks of dogs that passed through the snow before us.  He didn't veer from the trail for the first mile.  I delighted in watching him work and seeing the trail myself.  How I would love to let him just go!  Unfortunately, I fear the cars and I really don't want to piss off the neighbors.  I also don't want to establish bad habits with him thinking he can just leave.

I laugh when people meet our little Leo or hear that we have a Beagle.  Everyone thinks he is adorable, but not everyone likes the Beagle.  In fact, a lot of people don't.  They have tons of energy and are ruled by their noses.  Instead of getting irritated by his little quirks, I embrace them.  We walk and play every day to get rid of his energy.  I never reprimand him when he tears apart his toys because he leaves our stuff alone, well, most of our stuff.  As for his nose, I let him sniff away when we are out for our walks by ourselves.  I laugh at him and enjoy the walk.  I will say that his is quiet for the reputation of a Beagle.  He rarely bays or yips.  When he does, I am humored and encourage him to quiet down.

Now, Leo sleeps all curled up on the chair sitting next to my writing desk.  I honestly doubt I will ever get another dog.  The husband still doesn't like them though he is very patient with Leo.  He is a lot of work.  The hardest part is we like to travel.  I hate boarding him, but that is our only option.  So, Leo will be my only dog.  I plan to enjoy every minute just as Billie enjoyed Old Dan and Little Ann.

A Quiet Week

My last two posts have been bleak, so I thought I should give a positive update about Madelle.  The funny thing with a positive update is there really isn't much to say. 

This week Madelle has done really well.  We haven't had any breakdowns.  She worked hard at going to school.  Wednesday she was determined to make it every day.  We were excited when she got on the bus on Wednesday.  The same behavior happened on Thursday.  In the evening, she was excited for her success, but I could tell she had a long day.  When I woke her up on Friday, she came out exhausted.  I let her stay home.  Within minutes, she fell asleep on the chaise lounge.  An hour later, Leo and I went for a walk.  She was still sleeping there when we came home.  Since Leo pounced on her, she returned to her bed and sleep until noon.  Today she has been a little grumpy, but then so have I. 

A quiet week is what we all needed.  We decorated the tree last night and watched "The Christmas Story."  In the days to come, the storms will inevitably come our way.  Now, we are enjoying the smooth sailing weather of the emotions that flow through our home.  Blessings to you.  And I would like to say a special thank you to all of you who are praying for us and for the beautiful comments and to reaching out to me in my dark moments.  I love you all.

Still A Prisoner

Since the last time I wrote, we have fared pretty well.  We struggled a bit going into Thanksgiving, but we managed the holiday.  This week I didn't say a word when Madelle asked to stay home on Wednesday, though hours before she was hopeful to attend school the entire week.  Today, we are losing the battle.

She came home in a panic.  Her headphones were still at school.  I quickly grabbed my keys and we headed into town to see if we could get them.  All the way to the school, she yelled that she didn't want to be angry about the headphones.  She yelled about me not talking.  She didn't like the topics I brought up.  It was constant negativity for three miles.  I told her much more and we were going home.  She apologized and said she wanted to go home.  She cried that she wanted her puppy.  I worked at calming her down and reminding her we just had a little longer to go.  The whole time I am ready to come across the car and throttle her.  I want to yell.  I don't deserve her attitude.  I was just trying to help.

We get to the school and ask at the office if we can check a room or two.  The secretary was so nice and she took us around, but we found no headphones.  As we left the school, the whining and insistence began.  "I can't go a weekend without my headphones."  "We have to go shopping now."  I start for home telling her maybe later tonight if her dad wanted to go or tomorrow when I planned on going shopping.  She realized a mile from home the headphones were in her saxophone case at home.  I laughed.  Really, all of this and they were with her the entire time?

At home we started getting ready to leave for our weekend away.  She asked if she was a bad kid.  I told her I loved her, but she had to work on how she treated me.  I asked her how she would feel if she were treated in such a way.  "I don't know."  She yelled and went to her room.  That was an hour and a half ago.  She still hasn't come out though both her dad and I have tried to get her to come out.  We are prisoners again.  I tried to tell the husband he can go without us.  He said no, "we will go at three in the morning if need be."  Lovely.  Five and a half more years of this.  How do you not feel like a horrible mother?

A Horrible Day

During our time dealing with the mental illness that ravages my daughter, I have talked a little about my own depression, but I haven't talked about the issues of parenting.  Even with a body that hurts almost constantly, I would rather go back to BASIC training and be yelled at by drill sergeants then have the job I have right now.  I have been yelled at, called a bitch and told what a terrible mother I am.  I have had to compromise my morals, my belief in discipline, and eat a lot of pride.  Today, I am losing the battle.

The last two months have been trying to say the least.  I probably mentioned that the doctor switched Madelle's meds, spiraling her down into the dark pit of anxiety.  We are now upping her meds to bring her back up to before the switch.  It is a very slow process.  And today is a very bad day that started last night.

Madelle came out of her room and asked not to go to school this week.  It is a short week of only two days due to Thanksgiving vacation.  Well, she is getting a five day weekend and I didn't think it was appropriate.  The mom and former educated does not approve of skipping school.  I said no and her dad backed me.  She went to her room.  When he went in to ask what pasta she wanted with the spaghetti sauce, she grunted.  Later I went in to have her take her medicine, she refused.  I prayed and listened to music with her.  I talked.

What I got out of her is that she doesn't know how to make us hear her.  She can't face school.  The days will be filled with busy work and talking.  She panics on those days.  I don't want her home doing nothing, so I told her that she would have to do work.  She has reneged on her part of the bargain of only missing one day a week.  Her schedule was to say a prayer for strength, write an essay, do some fractions, read some literature, work on cell research, play her instrument, and walk the dog.

The reality … I am ready to run away to the coast and live there under an assumed name.  I am a prisoner in my own home.  Madelle woke up in a good mood.  She ate breakfast and said her prayers.  She took out her instrument and sounded off.  The next thing I know she is whining.  I ask her questions and she started yelling.  She went to her room and I asked for her kindle.  I had told her no electricity for the day.  She came back and threw it on the floor and stomped back into her room again.

A short time later she comes into my writing room asking if she is a bad kid.  Part of me wants to scream that yes, yes she is a horrid kid.  Instead I cry and say she isn't.  She said she didn't think doing school work at home is the answer.  I don't have to fear homeschooling.  But I still don't know how to get her to school.  She asked for her kindle back.  Nope.  For some reason I will stay strong on this point.  I am also not giving her my computer.  She is in the living room watching cartoons and putting together a puzzle.  Another loss.  I sit here at the computer with tears in my eyes.  Oh, and I haven't the courage to see if I pushed her to start scratching herself again.

I know people judge the situation.  Hell, I judge the situation.  "She is spoilt.  I am not tough enough on her.  I should force her to go to school so she will toughen up.  Live through those panic attacks.  Ignore the voices in her head that tell her she is a freak."  Well, people, be my guest.  You can take over the parenting because we are doing the best we can.  All I want is for her to be a well adjust happy kid with lots of friends and activities, tons of self confidence.

I read books to try to help me through.  The common theme is to take care of you.  Right, how?    Sure, I am fortunate.  I am able to tell myself most days that life is good.  I smile and push forward with my writing.  I spend time with my prayer group.  I go to church.  But on days like today, I feel horrible.

Daily Thankfulness

November is the month a lot of people daily write on facebook about things they are thankful for.  I like the tradition, but I wonder about the other days of the year.  And what about the daily stuff?  I mean, we obviously are thankful for spouses, children, parents, special extended family, and our friends.  This list alone can give me thirty days.  But really, all of them are a given to be thankful for.  Besides, we tend to give thanks to God for them on their birthdays, anniversaries and holidays.  Plus, I am thankful for them 24-7.  When I think of thankfulness, I think of those days when everything goes wrong.  For some people that is every Monday.  For me, it can be when I have had five straight days of living in pain from my rheumatoid arthritis.  Yes, the facebook tradition is wonderful, but I want more. 

Giving thanks can be a tough act.  Luckily for me, I am surrounded by a lot of faith filled people who help show me the way.  A few years ago, a dear friend and I sat and chatted over coffee.  I don't even remember what we were talking about.  Our mornings consisted of talking about children, faith, and our struggles in life.  Well, one day she mentioned an author by the name of Ann Voskamp who wrote the book "One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are."  As is my friend's personality, she went above and beyond.  She leant me her copy, which if I remember correctly was signed by the author.

The premise of the book is to give God thanks throughout the day.  The author challenged me to write down events during the day that I was thankful for when they happened.  I failed the challenge.  After doing housework, interacting with my kids and husband, and trying to figure out a scene in my latest writing project, I found myself going to bed with maybe two items on my list.  So, I changed the challenge.

I started listing off my items of daily thanks on my fingers as I drifted off to sleep.  Here would be an example of my last 24 hours.  I thanked God for…

Finger one, waking me up.  With two tough autoimmune diseases, this is big. 

Finger two, coffee.  The diseases can zap me of all energy.  I live on caffeine.

Finger three, for the strength of character for Madelle at the orthodontist.  She did not sleep at all last night because of her new meds.

Finger four, the money to pay for the extra work done at the orthodontist.

Finger five, safe travels.  The roads were wet and slippery while running around in town.

Finger six, 2790 words written.  That is a very good day.

Finger seven, my husband's suggestion for one of my characters.  God timed it perfect because I was writing that scene.

Finger eight, my new walking boots.  It can now snow and I will have good traction.

Finger nine, an easy time with giving Leo a bath.  He tends to be difficult but we used a new technique.  It went much, much better.

Finger ten, for a quick, fun conversation with my dad.

If I am not too tired at night, I do add two more things to be thankful for because I do feel guilty about always being thankful for waking up and coffee.  Also, if I am extra tired and fall asleep on number five, I let the angels take over for me.  There are days that I struggle after the first couple items, those Mondays in life when the day is just crummy.  But I find I talk to God about the day.  We have a great conversation as I discuss my life.  I share with him the troubles I am having and he always guides me towards the good stuff that happened.

I still encourage people to do the November challenge.  In our negative world, seeing thankfulness displayed is a bonus.  As for me, I will continue to count them off on my fingers everyday of the year.  I challenge all of you to give it a try.

Resting and Waiting

Resting.  I hate resting.  At times, I can be really good at it.  Summer time I rest from writing and I garden and play which some may think isn't resting.  However, there are times I need to rest.  For the most part, I hate it.  Right now I am in a resting phase.  My project ended a couple of days earlier than I anticipated, so I rest.  Thank goodness a couple of things have been going on so I don't go stir crazy.

This past month, I read through my manuscript of about 90,000 words.  I finished that up in nine days instead of 10.  Next, I went to writing and editing like crazy.  I added 23,630 words.  I thought I would finish it up on the thirtieth, but actually ended the twenty-eighth.  Now I am waiting/resting for November 1st.  I hate waiting.

Why November 1st, you might ask.  Well, November is a crazy month where many writers work at writing a 50,000 word novel in thirty days.  I have to say that it is crazy fun.  I love it.  Of course, I am so excited to start the writing, but I don't want to use up words I can't count in October, so I wait.  I do bend the rules for my convenience.  This year the project I am working already has 26,726 words.  Some of those words have to be cut.  I probably have more like 20,000 words.  However, the novel will end up being 116,000 when it is finished.  Thus, I can easily write 50,000 words that are new for this project.  That is my goal for the November NaNo.  Will it be finished?  No, but it is 50K and I am counting it.

So, in prepping, I decided while plotting the novel two days ago, I wanted one of my characters to drive the other character crazy.  I downloaded a memoir about a person with Schizophrenia.  This has kept me pretty busy.  I was also exceptionally tired yesterday.  I read and catnapped much of the day.  I also baked chocolate zucchini bread.  Today, I am traveling to a little city that is about halfway between where I live and where my sister live.  It also happens to be where my son goes to college.  We are taking him to lunch and then the two of us are going shopping.  No, I am not a big shopper, but it is fun with my sister!

Tomorrow, I will hopefully clean house, finish the reading, and make oatmeal flatbread.  I am really anticipating Sunday.  I have a feeling I will be up at four due to the time change and excitement.

Rediscovering Jesus

I sit here at my computer gaping at the white screen.  My eyes feel like they have dirt enough in them to turn the blue irises deep brown.  Though my eyes feel full, my brain feels empty.  I keep trying to think of a topic for my blog post.  An idea pops in the empty void, but I crumple it up like a piece of blank paper and toss it in garbage.  Yes, I envision making the basket every time. 

One of the activities in my life at the moment is rediscovering Jesus.  Four other ladies and I are working on the new book by Matthew Kelly entitled, you guessed it, "Rediscovering Jesus."  I love Matthew's simple writing skill that asks big questions.  I also love the purple cover.  For some reason, when I look at the bright lively color, I smile.

Anyway, a week or two ago, a question struck me.  I don't remember the exact question, but it had to do with what I have done to get to know Jesus better besides pray.  How have I studied Jesus to get to know Him better?  At first, I was proud about how I have read the Gospels a number of times.  But then I took the question a step further.  How have I studied Jesus compared to some of my favorite saints.  I have read the writing of St. Patrick, St. Theresa, St. Francis de Sales, and St. Francis of Assisi.  Besides the Bible, I have never read any other books about Jesus.  I have to say, that I am a little disconcerted by that fact.  What am I going to do about it?  Well, I will finish this book.  I think I will continue with another one either on my own or with my friends.  Yes, I know a lot about him, but I would like to know more.

The other aspect I have obtained through the book is spending more time with Him.  The book asked to compare my relationship with Jesus to my relationship with the people in my life.  I believe it is similar to that of one of my dear friends.  I think of them both often, but I forget to spend time with them.  I get so busy with my daily work and schedule that I realize I haven't hung out with Him.  Now I am trying to ask Him to hang out with me while I am writing and drinking my coffee.  Or I ask Him to go for a ride downtown to keep me company.  I am far from good at it, but with a little practice, I have to be a little better.

My computer screen is no longer empty!  I pray you have a blessed day.