The New Normal

I don’t know who really runs with open arms toward change.  I know I’m not one of those people.  I am a creature of habit, and I find great comfort in routine.  My whole life is mostly a routine.  As a teacher, it’s my job to create routines and stability for my students, and they treasure it as much as I do.  I have to prepare them for change. We have short morning meetings to talk about what may be special or different each day.  For my own children, I do the same thing.  My oldest thrives in routine.  My kids will be quick to tell you “But, that’s not how Mama does it,” if you have to deviate from the norm. 

To say that we have to adjust to the recent changes in our family is a gross understatement.  Thankfully, my God, in His infinite grace, is being so gentle with this worrysome daughter of His, as well as these young ones He’s entrusted to us.  He knows all of us so intimately, and He is not intimidated by our quirks, our need to be in a controlled environment, or our staunch resistance to change.  But He is also too good of a Father to leave us where we are, so He brings transition-somewhat of an abrupt change this time-and He stands with us.  We are all slowly adjusting, and the differences are a few more each day.

The children are getting used to Daddy saying, “I’m not hungry,” and they are free to respond to that openly.  Our oldest readily states that he’s not used to hearing those words from Daddy, and it’s OK that it’s true.  It’s something that will readily become a way of life for us, as we begin to see the positive changes that happen when we say no to food, and yes to life.  We eat to live, no longer live to eat. 

Little girls who are so used to tucking themselves into Daddy’s “pocket” (the space between his side and the arm of the couch) to watch a show before bed and get some snuggles, have learned to crawl up gently to watch for stitches, that are quickly healing, and looking better each day.  Soon, those will be coming out, but they will have to continue being careful for awhile.  The biggest, our man-child has to put a hold on jumping into Daddy’s arms for his good night hugs and kisses for a bit, but that doesn’t stop him from getting his goodnight love.  None of us really like the feel of stitches on our skin, so we tend to stay away from incisions when snuggling in to our protector.

Zoe has found a recent love of the chocolate protein shakes, which is wonderful, because she doesn’t really like eating much anyway.  The children love Daddy’s new diet, as they have all the yogurt, sugar free popsicles, and Jell-o they could ever want.  The biggest problem is making sure the fridge stays stocked so that when their daddy actually needs to have something, it’s there for him. 

I’ve pretty much banned the term “bloated full” which has always been somewhat of a trademark phrase of Patrick’s.  This takes on a whole new meaning after bariatric surgery.  Bloated can mean that you’ll need to throw up soon, because once you reach full, there is literally no other place for food to go.  So, upon further discussion, we have determined that the phraseology, “bloated full” isn’t an accurate descriptor of the feeling he feels, as the last thing we want is to stretch out that shiny new stomach he has.  Sometimes, indigestion is the feeling, as reflux is common, but for him, it’s often some discomfort instead.  If you can’t tell, I’m kind of a words person, so accurately describing something to me is important, and I take his words very literally.  Since his catch phrase causes me heart palpitations, I’ve asked him to try out different ways of explaining how he’s feeling.  And he’s doing a great job of accommodating me in these early days post surgery.   

One thing we all have to work with is his constant feeling that his thoughts are disconnected.  He often loses his train of thought, or struggles to find a word in conversation.  As he is able to take in more protein, this should improve, as should his energy levels.  He still needs lots of rest, and we try to let that happen as often as our noisy little brood of small people will allow it.  He forgets things a lot.  It reminds me of myself when I’m under lots of stress.  I tend to forget things so much when all the plates are spinning a hundred miles an hour!  So we all help as much as we can, and we know that soon, he will be feeling more like himself and won’t have a self proclaimed “baby brain.”  He has a whole new understanding of my experience with forgetfulness during my pregnancies.  He can truly understand first-hand!

I’m affectionately known as “The Warden” these days, as I’m a pretty big fan of following the plan the nutritionist went over with us at the hospital.  I know he misses tasting “real” food, but my heart is to see him fully healed, with no setbacks or complications.  His healing has gone miraculously well.  I’m amazed at how quickly incisions are healing.  Stitches came out yesterday, as he was starting to heal over them.  I got some great video and photos of them coming out, and I even got to pull a couple myself!  AWESOME!! 

Personally, I’m adjusting myself back into a slower pace of summer.  It allows me to afford little luxuries like staying up later, and in turn, sleeping in later.  But not too late…these kids are ready to take on the world!  With that slower pace, comes a chance for me to reflect on my responses to these beautiful children.  They get on each others’ nerves from time to time; they tattle constantly; they don’t listen to me…it tests me daily.  So, my personal challenge this summer is to respond to them in love-sometimes firm love-but also, to have more grace for them.  I personally must realize that everything isn’t an emergency, and to respond with calm grace, instead of reacting in anger.  I’m being purposeful to take little faces gently into my hands, look into those soft brown eyes, and give direction or correction with love, instead of yelling.  It’s a reprogramming season for me and for the children, too.  Sadly, under the pressure and stress of long work hours, and feeling the strain of trying to keep up with home and family, I’m pretty sure it was my family that took the brunt of the anger that resulted from just being stretched too thin.  I’m hopeful that, as weight comes off and my husband feels better, I will not have to stretch that far again.  And even if I do find myself stretched paper thin, my prayer for myself is that I learn to deal with all of life’s emergencies with a full measure of grace, and to embrace each moment as a chance to squeeze the most full joy out of each day.