a blended life

I haven't blogged much the last half of this month because I'm too tired. We are ok. I'm getting a lot of hours at my online job scoring state ELA tests from California. Jacob is drowning in medicine. Hannah had been dealing with a considerable amount of depression and agreed to meet with a counselor. Both girls (and me) have been through so much that my toolkit of coping skills has been depleted. I'm not trying to sound like a veteran of war. We just feel beaten to a pulp and it's taking a lot of hugs, prayers, Uno games and tears to sort out everything.  Lame side note. I love Brooklyn Bridge Park. It has piers with soccer, tennis, basketball, swings and all kinds of fields for public use. You play with the closest view of the Manhattan skyline and it's stunning. Plus walking paths, grass, BBQ, etc. Very lovely place. Oh! And it smells like the outdoors! Unlike Central Park, which stinks.          That last one is Hannah doing a handstand. 

(Hymns no. 192, He Died, The Great Redeemer Died!, vs 3) It's occurred to me over and over, and I've said this before, that the level of grief or despair we feel is equal to the capacity for joy we have. So I've noticed that it's a tricky balance to allow myself to feel as sad and despondent as I want with letting it swallow me up into an unmanageable whirlwind. Or to a point where I want to self soothe with something destructive, like Amazon.  At this point Jacob would be telling me that he's never met anyone who thought so much about feelings and had so much self control over them. Sigh. He's probably right.  Here's what I haven't blogged about: 1) Hannah's dance recital  2) Jersey Shore trip 3) Lucy being so sick we almost didn't do #2 4) Easter I'm going to put in a few pictures and write until I fall asleep. Hopefully it makes sense.        I didn't realize that the whole studio was extremely politically charged. Almost every dance, ...

I won a Broadway lottery--meaning I put my name in for some cheap tickets and with two hours notice, we were headed to see a play.  Two things I want to mention before I fall asleep on the keyboard: 1) I wasn't familiar with the story ahead of time. It was so fitting and parallel so many things that Jacob and I are dealing with. Plus it's the kind of writing where there are so many layers and you're talking about it the next day. Ah, so good and refreshing. 2) The acting was PHENOMENAL and I mean extremely fantastic. I've never been a Danny DeVito fan but his live performance was so funny and spot on. It was a good reminder that seeing a performance live makes such a huge difference. I felt this way when we went to a Steve Martin concert and saw the Olympic ice skaters--there really is something about being there in person. Also Mark Ruffalo killed it.  3) We were gone a total of six hours, and it took me three of those to finally let go of leaving the kids and start en...

Mom--my ability to respond to comments is broken. I think you're right. Dad did believe and felt grief very deeply, but I think he didn't buy into the stages aspect.  Which I understand. 'Stages' implies growth or a development, the kind where you build on a foundation of previously learned skills or behaviors. So in the case of grief, stages is the completely wrong word. Phases is more accurate. And I don't think it should be limited to the five or so that were originally laid out. That makes people feel like if they stray from those feeling or phases, they're doing grief wrong.  Phases of Grief (that are currently happening at our house): *Anger *Anxiety *Afraid of the dark (Leah. And as a side note, I remember going through this when my grandma died, and Jacob also said he felt this when his grandparents died several years back).  *Bottling--as in, never talk about it until someone comes over and when you tell them your best Gramps died and it's the sadde...