Who the heck is Helga?

So I forget that not everyone knows about "Helga".  Our 10-year-old is ... extra :) In a great way.  She loves to develop all these characters.  Sheila Spice. Olivia Flay. And Helga. Helga is the funniest in my opinion. She is an older Russian woman who has migrated to the US to live. And is learning all things American.  You can see all the personalities here:

Helga

Sheila Spice

Olivia Flay

These moments, this is why I love my life.  Because even in a fog of confusion on what tomorrow will look like, there's still plenty of good in every today! Happy Friday Friends! Enjoy!

Generations of Love

Our family survives on wit, inappropriate humor, understanding and forgiveness.  As a mom, I thrive on traditions and memories.  Some of my favorites as a child myself were with my Grandma Taubel.  I have always had inherit love and appreciation for my elders.  And I was also fascinated with their lives and their stories.  The things they had to overcome that seemed like just a foreign idea to me.  Like the great depression, a recession, buying a farm for a few hundred dollars and on and on.  My grandma taught me to live off the land, use everything you have/waste nothing and to make do with what you have.  The kitchen was our home field and she was an amazing coach.  I still to this day fondly can recall the way her hands smelled of onions or the fresh dough creation in the oven.  Or the way her from scratch soup warmed my entire body and soul on the cold winter days. (That's why Pampered Chef truly does resonate with who I am as a person!)  The way her voice sounded when she hummed "Jesus loves me" or how she held her rosary for our almost nightly rosary after supper.

Devout Catholics have many traditions.  And I love carrying on many of those with my own family today.  Using the same advent prayer card she used.  And saying the same sequence of night prayers.  Repeating her little sayings, "Upstairs, downstairs, inside and out" (that's how you brush your teeth, in case you didn't know!)   Her home was always neat and tidy, and actually clean.  She didn't keep her Halloween decorations up all year round like I do (I'm talking about the spider webs I never clean) and she always had a from scratch dessert "in case company stops by" - and company always stopped by! I loved our simple life on the farm.  It was hard work, but it was good work and fulfilling work.  I knew very young that I wanted to be just like her.  As I grew older, I realized I would never be able to be as amazing as she was, but even half the woman she was, would still be pretty impressive.

She died fairly suddenly.  We found her cancer and learned it had spread to every organ in her body.  There was not much they could even suggest and she happily accepted her ticket to judgment day.  We didn't wait long for her ticket to get punched.  From the time we found out until she passed was just a few weeks.  The timing of these things is never easy, and for her and I, would have never been enough time. She and I were just starting to go through her boxes of pictures from when her children were little, writing down her recipes, and journaling her life, to create a memoir of sorts, when she passed.  It's not done, and it never really will be now. But I still treasure what little we have.  One of the very last conversations we had, when she was still of sound mind, was this, and I want to share it with all of you.


"Amber, I don't want you to make the mistake I made.  I want you to enjoy the time with your babies.  All of it, every minute. I don't want you to worry about the mess in the sink or the fingerprints on the window.  That stuff can all wait for later. But once the time is gone, you can never get it back."   The more that I experience in my life, the more I realize that the things that make the biggest impressions on us are not the large grand gestures, but the small loving things.  I can't afford luxurious vacations or world traveling.  Even if I could afford a vehicle and college for all of my children, I don't know that I would anyway.  You learn very little when you are handed something.  You dont get the joy and the life experience from earning it.  Which means you are not able to pass that lesson on and pay it forward as easily either. I want my children to feel the pride in knowing you worked for something.  And even the disappointment when you don't achieve your goals.  The motivation to work harder next time. And the humility to know that it's ok, as long as you were honestly giving your best.  I want to give my children the same memories and traditions that I was given, that's what I want for my children.

Only Mom "fishes" like this...

Life is so funny, isn't it?! One minute, you're reaching your goals, checking stuff off the to-do list, finding a missing shoe (your own..) and the next minute you're fishing baby 💩💩 out of the bathtub and scrubbing lets-not-guess-what from the bottom of the fridge.  Yes, that is all true.  I lead a glamorous life, you guys!

I have nothing inspiring to share today.  And if it weren't for my Thrive, this post would contain multiple lines of the same letter.  From my forehead hitting the keyboard as I fall asleep in my chair.  Last week was ... a lot.  One day to the next, drastic changes.  That's how MS is. You just never know.  Things can change slowly over time and be subtle, or they can smack you in the face like a freight train.  Not the big ones, but like the kind that fit in a 5-year-old's hand - still hurts though...


Jeremiah's vision is still returning, slowly, but we take it! His balance is coming back even slower. I think, could be wishful thinking on my part. But we survive on wit and optimism here! He can walk longer distances with a gait aid if he's not worn out. And that has become our new challenge.  Him not overdoing it.  Like the other night when I said just go around the block and he walked down to the ball field instead.  (It's a Benike thing...) He said it went ok but that last 2 blocks home were a little dicey.  Men... 

We attended Corn on the Cob Days parade, which again proved to be a bit too much and he's almost been in bed since... even still.   Today we start the joys of therapy. He hates it, but I know personally how much it is needed when you're the patient. And it is needed.  Last night he needed to use the bathroom and decided he didn't have time for the chair. Tried to walk and fell right over.  Into a pile of clothes and stuff.  See, we are messy to save lives, not because we are lazy! ugh!

The kids are doing ok.  Lots of emotions right on the brink.  Our families have been wonderful in helping with them, taking them, making them feel like normal kids.  Olivia is desperate for school to start and that tells me how much they are craving some normalcy.  While I actually like having them at home (most of the time) I can understand the feeling.  I would love our boring and routine days back!

I want to take a moment to thank you.  For reading this, for sharing it, for commenting below. I'd thank you for becoming a follower, but I don't know how to install one of those pop-up thingys that asks you to follow it, yet. ;)  For your support, prayers, and generosity - we are so very blessed to be surrounded by so much love.  And I can honestly only think that his recent improvements are from those thoughts and prayers! Happy Tuesday! And here's to a poo touching free day for all of us!

Mom, you're doing just fine

"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love." - Washington Irving

If you listen to me long enough, you'll know quotes are big for me. And this one plays in my mind like a broken record. Especially today. Growing up things were not always as easy or nice as they could and should have been. I felt like tears and crying were showing whatever the evil was, that it was winning. So around age 10, I just started to do everything I could mentally to never cry. I thought crying was perceived as a weakness. And I HATE feeling weak.

Now that I'm an adult and I know better, I still "can't" cry. I am not sure if this will come out right, but my tears are internal. My pain is inside and doesn't come out in a physical manner that others can see, like tears. It comes out in other ways, frustration, mental fatigue, severe back pain (like muscle knots and tension) I wish it came out in tears because we all need to release our emotions. All of them. Think about it. We smile when we are content, laugh when we are happy, yell when we are angry, scream when we are in pain (usually). Even an infant knows to express their emotions.

Today was a #MomFail! I had 3 alarms set because I had 3 things to do this AM. But Emma told me that she didn't need a ride because Grandma was giving her one. So my brain apparently heard, 'you now have absolutely nothing to do today but sleep in and miss every single thing you needed to get people too.' Olivia didn't get to Plainview with her sister, despite asking me if she could. Jeremiah was 40 minutes late for infusion and I forgot my wallet at home, of course, so didn't get milk for cereal at noon because that's just how we roll around here. I left the house already behind for a very important appointment with 3 kids crying, lots of swearing and Jeremiah thinking "he's fine, he can do it himself" I told him the stubborn thing is getting old and just not the time. To which he replies, "it's not my fault it comes with the last name". At least his wit is still intact 😉

My "tears" today were for feeling like I let my family down, again. For the 89.00 gas tank fill. (Gas is just so expensive! Why can't they make a car run on my family's gas, because we would be all set if they could....) For the lady at Bennett's (the grocery store in town) - I don't know who it was, Olivia wasn't sure, who paid for the kids donuts. And whoever put the $450.00 in my People's Checking. I'm 98% sure I know who you are, but the bank didn't identify you. You don't know how you helped. You kept my insurance paid and that's crucial right now for obvious reasons, and my cell phone bill paid - which again, is our lifeline right now. These are blessings, my friends. Despite all of our trials these days, we are still, so. very. blessed.

My message today is for all of you mom's out there. I feel you. You are wondering if you are doing it right. If you are a "good mom" If you yell too much. If you buy too much. If they love you some days... I'm here to tell you if you think any of those things, then chances are HIGH you are "doing it right". It's like I tell my Pampered Chef Team, if you are worried you are being too pushy, then you aren't. The salesman who is actually too pushy, never questions if they are. It's the same for being a mom. All any of us can ever do, is our very best. As long as you are honestly giving it the best effort you can, you're good. Each day, try to be better than the day before. Because forward progress of even the smallest amount, is still better than no progress at all. So if you are aware of being a good mom, then you are. 💓 And, it's ok to cry!

Adulting is not what I was expecting!

You know all of our obvious struggles lately or can at least guess what they might be. But man alive you guys, I still find myself screaming, "REALLY?!" to absolutely no one so many times... There are so many things that I didn't know when I decided to really try this adult stuff.  I have many examples. And I won't list names, because, I'm better than that.  And also, I can't keep their names straight anyway.

One of the things I am the most confused by is poop. In the toilet.  What happens in there? They go in, they do their business, finish, and figure, "oh, mom will be so proud of this, I think I'll leave it for her".  Or is it, "well that was so much work I simply can't extend my arm to push that little silver lever".  Or is getting out every single toy we own just so pressing they simply do not have time to flush it down?! I suppose it is my fault.  I taught them when to use the bathroom, where to go to the bathroom, how to use the bathroom. But I suppose I forgot to STRESS the importance of flushing like I stress the importance of toilet paper and then soap and water.  Parenting fails, obviously.

The same ranking on the list would be putting empty things back where they came from.  Now, our kitchen isn't THAT big.  But, in all fairness, their legs are shorter than mine.  I can see how it would require like two or three steps to go from the fridge to the garbage.  I brought this to their attention.  And I am not kidding, they have all perfected the all-important life skill of leaving barely ANY product in the container so they can say, well, it's not gone yet.

The last one, I just can't understand.  I have a shoe basket in the entryway.  Directly next to the door when they come inside.  All they have to do is place the shoes in the basket.  But I think someone must be paying them per shoe that is left OUTSIDE the shoe basket.  They have to be. Because I kid you not, the shoes never go in the basket.  I'll even go out there, and put all the shoes laying on the floor in the basket, and then I come back out and sure enough, there are all the shoes back on the floor and the basket laying next to them.

I've asked said accused of these transgressions.  And you know what they say?! "Mom, ghosts." Yup.  At least I don't question if I have an extra child named, 'wasn't me'.  Oyi...   Ghosts, can you please flush the turds, throw away empties, and leave the shoes in the basket? Please? Thanks!