Public Potty Time

Lincoln loves public restrooms.  I'm not sure why this strange fetish, but anytime we go ANYWHERE, he excitedly announces that he needs to use the bathroom.  I have seen some pretty raunchy bathrooms now.  I always allow an extra five minutes when we go to park or grocery store or the school.  He has a strange habit of doing his #2 in public restrooms.  I feel like he just saves it until we get there because it is so fun to sit on a new potty.  I am a bit of a germaphobe.  I don't like public bathrooms in general and try to avoid them unless it is absolutely necessary.  I am not avoiding many these days.  He is a far cry from Ethan who would not go in ANY potty except the ones at our house and his infamous "froggy potty."  Froggy potty is a little potty that looks like a frog...very creative.  I would have to take the froggy potty everywhere.  I dumped pee in the Walmart parking lot more than once.  It was pretty gross and frustrating, but he has since gotten over his fear.  I would almost prefer Lincoln's fetish to toting froggy potty in my trunk.  

Why

Why?

This seems to be a standard question at many ages.  Lincoln is sitting here asking me why his  pajamas are shorts instead of pants.  He seems displeased with the shorter length.  I try to explain that they are shorts so he won't get too hot in the summer while he sleeps.  He doesn't like any of my answers, so finally I just tell him "I don't know..." and he seems content.

I have asked that question in my life; different contexts, same question.  Sometimes the answer of  keeping cool in the summer suffices.  Other times it does not.  Sometimes the best answer is: I don't know.  I just don't know.

I never really thought of myself as an overly logical person.  I have plenty of emotions.  Pre Eli I felt I was fairly competent at containing them in a socially appropriate or peace keeping manner (if I wanted to).  I had a lot of emotions so I figured I was just an emotional person as opposed to a logical person.  I know we are all both, on some level, but the I am getting to know myself in a whole new way.  I am seeing what happens when pain takes hold and it cuts away the outer layer and lets you see a new part of yourself.  Here is an odd thing that I have discovered about myself.  I am quite logical.  I don't want to "allow" myself to feel something unless I think there is a good reason to.  I don't give myself permission to unless I can logically justify it.  At first, I justified everything.  Eli had JUST died, so I was allowed to feel however I wanted to.  As time has gone on, I look at the situation, my knowledge and insight I have gained, the amount of time that has passed and I weigh whether or not I am "allowed" to feel a certain way.  If you are logical at all, you can see this is a flawed approach to anything....especially grief.  It suggests that emotions are always controlled and come at appropriate times in appropriate places.  Emotions are always measured responses to a specific situation.  I have to reconstruct what logically is happening to allow myself to feel whatever I am feeling.  I usually fall back on the "my child died" phrase and realize that I probably am "allowed" to feel whatever is going on.

I sometimes want to explain why yesterday I saw the empty bassinet downstairs (that was too big to fit in a black garbage bag like everything else) and was okay with it, and the next day I was sobbing about it and couldn't look at it.  I want to explain why one day I am okay with someone toting their baby around, and the next day I can hardly stand the same sight.  Why I can drive to the cemetery and see that his body is there and this is just the way it will be until I die or the millennium happens and other days I can't stand the thought of going on another day with this situation.  I feel like it should flow in a linear fashion; prefereably with a timeline.  A certain situation or thought should get easier or better over a predictable period of time (with no backtracking, for heaven sakes!)

People tell you that grief is like an ocean tide, ebbing and flowing.  It washes over you one day and just touched your toes on other days.  The ocean is unpredictable and great storms can arise out of nowhere.  I get that nature does that, but I don't do that. I am in control.  I want to be in control of something.  When I give myself permission to "feel" something, I am in control of that...the permission part.  It is a pretty hard thing to let go of that control.  Things aren't always as logical as they should be.

Sometimes I have an extremely difficult day and I feel myself asking, "What happenened?"  (or other people ask me what happened). If something "happened" I am okay feeling a certain way.  If nothing happened, I try to deflect how I feel.

Well, I'll tell you what happened.  Someone I love died!  And that's just the way it is!  It isn't logical.
Maybe that is okay.  Maybe I don't have to explain myself to myself.  Maybe one person should allow it and the one person should be me.

Pretzel Injuries

Today Lincoln was eating pretzels and a sharp corner of one of the pretzels poked his mouth.  He was upset.  He walked into a completely different part of the house to find me.  He told me his plight.  I told him I was sorry and validated that he was hurt.  I gave him a kiss at the point of injury and he walked away content.  It was a 15 second interaction.

It started me thinking about what had just happened.  I never "taught" Lincoln that he needed to come find me when he was hurt.  It was just natural for him to.  I never told him that he would feel better if I gave him a kiss.  I must have done it one time and it soothed him a little, so he set this up as the standard practice after he got hurt; whether the injury was big or small.  When he comes to me I don't lecture him about eating his pretzels more carefully.  I don't tell him that lots of kids eat pretzels and they seem to know how to do it without getting hurt.  I don't tell him that he has to pay the price if he wants to eat such a dangerous food.  I try not to tell him he will be fine and to run along.  I just tell him I am sorry he is hurt and give him a hug or a kiss.  I validate his feelings and do what I can to help him feel better.  I don't think a hug or kiss necessarily takes away his physical pain, but it helps him to know that I am right there with him and I am sorry he is feeling that pain or hurt.  

I think this very simple and natural idea could go a long way with my interactions with others.  Validate their pain, hurt, anger, grief, sadness, whatever and do what I can to let them know I am there and I want to help even if  I can't do much to take their pain away.  Wouldn't that be a better way than the exhausting ritual of rationalizing my own bad behavior when I act frustrated or too busy or too tired to sympathize with them?  Wouldn't that be better than convincing myself that I know nothing about their experience to offer help so I should keep my distance?  A simple, I'm sorry....you are not alone in this moment.  

New look

Every time I get on the computer to blog, I cringe when I see the look of my blog.  I'm not sure why I hate it so much.  Maybe there was too much going on.  Maybe I was sick of the font.  Maybe I just needed a change.  I actually considered changing the name of my blog several months ago.  I wasn't sure if Happy Gause Family was correct... I wanted to take out the Happy part.  (At least at that moment).  I'm not sure why I ever called it that at all except that the name was available or something.  Anyways, I am not super savvy with the blogger templates or anything.  I like to write, but I can't always make it look pretty.  But, at least it looks different for now...it made me feel better and I like the new name a little more.

Washington DC

Jason had a business trip to Washington DC and I decided to join him.  This is the first time we have ever done something like this.  I always felt our kids were too small and it wasn't feasible.  I am beginning to feel like quite a traveler, which is not something I did a lot of before we had Eli.  It has just worked out that I have been able to go on these work related trip with Jason recently.  Jason has been to DC a couple of time before on business and he told me it was a must see place. After going, I agree.  Even though he was there on business we did a TON of sight seeing during his down time.  I totally relaxed and slept in while he was working.  It was incredibly rejuvenating for me, but I think Jason was exhausted after the trip.  We went to the National Archives and saw the Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights and the Constitution.  There was a reverence in that building that was very distinct.  These documents are sacred.  We went to Ford's theater where Lincoln was assassinated.  We went to the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington monument, the reflecting pond, and Arlington National Cemetery.  I had a lot of thoughts while in Arlington.  I think I have a deeper reverence and respect for the people buried there than I could have before Eli.  I understand that the battle that they fought is really no different from the battle that was fought before we came to Earth.  It is the battle for agency....for freedom, as we like to say.  They gave their lives defending the same rights as we fought for a long, long time ago.  We saw the tomb of the unknown soldier.  I would like to write all about that, but most of it can't be put into words and I am too tired to try right now.  The one thing I can say is that it is absolutely silent besides the sounds that come from the guards movement with his shoes and gun.  It was really something you have to see in person.  It was such an honor to sit there for a few minutes.  We also saw several babies buried in the cemetery (which I wasn't expecting).  We also went to China Town and ate at a place that wasn't quite as good as PF Chang's.  I was a bit surprised by that.  It was such a great trip.

Preschool

Lincoln started preschool.  It wasn't a HUGE deal because he went to the same preschool last year.  He was so excited to go.  After looking at the pictures I took, I realized that he is a lot bigger than last year : (

...but he's not too big for Tiger.

10 months

We decided to hike the Y on the 5th.  It was so fun to wear our team G shirts and do this activity together.  I was pretty surprised how well the kids did.  No one had to be carried out.  We had a lot of fun together and I think the kids were proud of themselves.  I was proud of them.

It is hard to believe that 10 months have gone by since Eli was born.  There are times when it seems much longer than 10 months and times when it feels like just a few weeks ago.  One thing I learned while I was pregnant with Eli was how to live in the moment.  I can't say I have always excelled at that, and I'm not pretending to be an expert now, but I had so many experiences while I was pregnant with Eli that helped me appreciate each moment I had with him.  I believe that was one of Eli's gifts to us.  He helped our family (and especially me) to find the joy in a seemingly ordinary moment.  I love when I feel this and am grateful for the experiences that we had with Eli last summer that taught me this.  Hiking the Y was one of those ordinary moments that was truly special to me.  I love wearing our shirts and I always think about how Eli wears one as well.  It is unifying and strengthens me.

Thank you Eli.

The problem of pain

The problem of pain.  This phrase has been bouncing around in my head.  C.S. Lewis wrote a book that I have yet to read with this title.  But, I am not talking about that right now....

Here is the problem with pain (the way I see it).  

People don't like it.  We know that some pain is for our own good.  We might want what is on the other side of the pain.  A good example of this is a workout.  Sometimes working out can be a little painful.  (If it isn't at least a little painful, you probably aren't working hard enough to do anything.)  There is a purpose, so we might even like that pain a little.  When you get a massage (a good deep tissue massage), it hurts a little (or a lot).  But we like that pain in some ways, because we know it is working out the knots and sore spots in our body. When we deliver a baby, we are in pain.  But, it is a good pain because we know that each contraction is getting us closer to seeing our baby.  I guess the point about it being a "good" pain is debatable, hence the advent of the epidural, but you get the point.  Pain is necessary.  It gets us something we want that we couldn't get if we went through the experience pain free.

When one of my kids gets a fever, I don't usually give them Tylenol or ibuprofen.  I know that the fever it a protective mechanism for the body and letting the fever do it's job of killing the virus, is important for the healing process.  I have given my kids a fever reducer when they are totally miserable, but it they are acting comfortable enough, I let the fever go and am grateful it is actually helping them.  I think this idea goes along well with the idea of pain.  Even though pain is, well painful, sometimes it is necessary, like the fever. 

If it can be helpful, why don't we like pain?  It hurts.  It is unpleasant.  Sometimes we don't think we can endure....

For some reason,  that part seems somewhat simple to me; not pleasant, but simple.

The part that is hard for me is the interactions that take place while I am in pain.  People hate to see someone they love in pain.  They just want to fix it.  They will try anything to alleviate pain because it is so awful to watch.

I think about the first four stages of grief: Denial, bargaining, anger, depression  It seems that there is some kind of pain associated with each.  In denial, you might be in too much pain to even allow what is happening into your mind.  In bargaining, you begin to feel the pain and you are trying to find a way out; trying to make a "deal" so you can get out of the pain.  Anger....that is what happens when the pain is so intense that you don't know how to feel it so it just sort of spews everywhere.  Depression, the pain is so bad you can't move very well. It consumes you.

Do any of these "stages" sound pleasant?  Is it pleasant to watch someone you love be in denial?  How about bargaining?  And how much do we like to be around angry people?  Especially irrationally angry people.  Oh, that's super fun!  Everyone loves that.  And being around someone who is depressed.  Awesome!  Love it!

No.... no one likes any of that.  Most people can't even tolerate it.  And yet, that is what grief is all about.  It is about experiencing all those emotions.  Sometimes intense, sometimes not, usually unpredictable, almost always overwhelming, but definitely unpleasant no matter how organized you make it look. It seems to me that people like to say there are "stages" to grief.  People like to list them in a certain order (being careful to stay politically correct by saying 'there is no order').  We like them to be wrapped up in nice pretty boxes with different colored bows.  We can tolerate the black bow as long as it is tied nicely and symmetrically.  But is anger really tied up in a nice little square box with a pinterest inspired bow?  Think about the last time you were really, really angry.  I'm not talking about the time someone cut you off while driving.  Multiply that into something that is more near and dear to your heart than anything else and then remember that there is no resolution in this life. Does that feel neat and orderly?  Does it fit nicely in a list?

I guess my point is that people accept, and usually like the idea of stages of grief, but how many people can stand by you while you experience intense and wild emotions like this?  People want to cheer you up or explain why you should be grateful or happy.  (I would like to state, for the record, that this is the worse thing you can do).  But, to just sit with someone and not be so scared to watch them be in pain; to not be scared that some of that pain might drip on you and make you hurt a little too; to not think you have to fix it; to let grief take it's course and be constant and caring instead of searching for a loop hole so your friend (or yourself) can get out of this mess.  It is a mess.  It's a flipping mess.  These emotions are messy.  People like order and predictability.  Grief is nothing of the sort, so forget about your bullet points and put on your hazmat suit.

I have to admit that in November-ish time, I was really bothered that no one could make me feel better.  When I was pregnant, my grief wasn't nearly as intense and a good friend and a good talk did wonders for my soul.  I didn't feel ALL the way better, but that always seemed to lighten my load tremendously; to sit and share my burden with another.  After Eli died, I sought relief, but to no avail.  No one could make me feel better and I was angry about it.  I didn't understand why for a long time.  Now I think that the pain was more than could be borne by a friend.  It could only be carried by someone who had descended below all things.  There was only one place for comfort.  I knew He was the only one I needed to go to.  He was the only one that could provide me any sense of relief.  He wouldn't take it away, but God could ease my hurt and strengthen me.  He was the only one that could carry me through this.  I always knew this in an intellectual sense, but not as completely in a practical sense.  I knew I had to trust that He would never lead me anywhere that was too distant or dark to find my way out of.  There were are times that don't feel that way, but I began to trust .  Sometimes I don't trust the way I should.  I start to panic and ask God if He really is going to help me through or if He is just going to leave me here.  Trusting isn't a one time deal. 

You have to trust that it is process; for yourself, for your loved one.  I constantly have to remind myself to trust God.  To trust that He will see me through this.

The culture teaches us that we are in the business of fixing things: fixing anger, fixing depression, whatever it takes. We will fix it!  Oh, you're depressed.... we have an app for that. Oh, you're angry....we have an app for that. (Or maybe I should say a drug for that...)  But, in the midst of some of these emotions, I have to ask myself....is this something that needs to be fixed?  I'm not saying I enjoy how I feel, but isn't this an appropriate response to what has happened?   Did anybody ever stop and think the way I feel is absolutely normal and appropriate given the situation?  When I saw my doctor at my six week check he asked me how I was doing.  I told him I was "doing bad" (love the grammar there....).  He looked kind of startled at my abrupt response, but then nodded knowingly. I asked him if he wouldn't be more concerned if I told him I was doing well. I should be "doing bad" that at this moment and I was. The way I was responding was appropriate for the situation. He agreed with everything. Not that I needed him to, but he did. (Maybe I did need him to at that point). 

I think that the emotions will take care of themselves. The grief will take care of itself. But it's not going to happen today and it's not going to happen the way I think it is. How I truly feel isn't going to be changed if people say the "right" thing to me.  I just have to feel some of it.  But, it might change how I respond to them.  I wish that people would stop trying to fix me and just be with me; that watching the pain wouldn't scare them so bad.  That they would experience some of it with me.  That they would let me revisit and talk about those things that I need to; instead of trying to distract me or cheer me up and move me forward.   THAT is what helps ease the burden.  But I also get that people don't know how to do that. I certainly wouldn't know how to do that with a friend. Maybe I will now.

It makes sense that it is our natural inclination to want to help someone who is in pain.  There is nothing good about watching someone who has just broken their leg writhe around in pain while you sit and watch, apathetic, from a distance.  It seems natural to want to help them.  This is a good thing.  It is pretty obvious that you aren't going to heal the broken leg immediately, or that YOU will heal it at all, but you want to do anything you can to help.  This is where problems can arise with grief.  People think it is a "fixable" problem and sometimes it isn't.  Usually it isn't.

People just can't stand it to see me in pain. That really does mean a lot to me. Honestly. But because the pain isn't going away, some people go away. They just can't stand the lack of resolution. This isn't a fixable problem. Only God can fix this one. I trust that He will. I think it will take longer than I thought it would. I don't care that much. I wish other I didn't feel like other people cared. But, I do think their intents and motives are pure.  

I thought this little poem went well with my thoughts:

Burden Carriers

Sorrow is one of the things that are lent, not given.  

A thing that is lent may be taken away;

a thing that is given is not taken away.

Joy is given;

sorrow is lent.

We are not our own,

we are bought with a price....

(Our sorrow) is lent us for just a little while

that we may use it for eternal purposes.

Then is will be taken away

and everlasting joy will be

our Father's gift to us,

and the Lord God will wipe away

all tears from off all faces.

-Amy Carmichael