Parenting in an Atheist Household

I'll start this off by saying that our household is just like everyone else's.  We're a little unorganized, a little messy, a little pressed for time to do all of the things we'd like to do but somehow we manage to make it all work.  We love hard and fall hard; be it from disappointment or hurt feelings.  We base our actions on facts because there's safety and comfort in knowledge.

We don't focus on spirituality or religion.  We do discuss those things when we're faced with them; for example: when used as teaching material in History class or when we have someone come to our door wanting to share their "good word".  Openness and honesty dispel the myths and fears that come along with those things.

We live in the present.  We encourage each other to reach for our dreams and fight through the obstacles that may show up because there's no "ever after".  This is the only life we get and we should not only appreciate the hell out of it but we should encourage others to do the same and lead by example.  Find your happiness and never let go, and then offer others the support to find theirs.

We are good people.  We have morals and ethics.  We don't fear divine retribution.  We work to avoid disappointing ourselves and those we love.  We think of the long term effects of our actions.  We hope for change and enlightenment among mankind.  We lead by example and show our children that rewards come from hard work and honesty, not lies and fear.  The onus lies with each one of us to make our own choices and either reap the benefits or face the consequences.  That is how we learn and how we teach.

We live our lives in a way that we hope would make our ancestors proud and give our grandchildren the drive to emulate us.  We are your friends, neighbors, classmates, partners and even the stranger who stopped to help you when you were in need.  We're not evil.

Home is where the mess is.

I know that most people say "home is where the heart is" but, in my case, my heart is in pieces scattered across the country and carried in the pockets of the people I love. Instead, I find that home is where the mess is. The dinner dishes piled in the sink, laundry to fold, Legos scattered on the floor, composition books filled with child-like drawings of animals tucked into the couch, books stacked on headboards and end tables and furry dust bunnies lurking in every corner. To me, this is the sign of a home that is lived in.

Sometimes I wish my house was that perfect home that was always clean and presentable in case someone wanted to just drop by. However, I'm realistic. I have kids, pets, a husband and multiple health issues that force me to clean in spurts. Plus, who's really dropping by my house? My family is multiple states away (and in multiple states), as are my friends. My husband's family is also some distance away, except for his mother with whom we don't speak. Instead, I let my house be lived in by the people who live, and love, here. If someone drops by, they'll just have to understand that we're busy having fun!

So, this is my life. A yard filled with swings, a trampoline, a "clubhouse", shoes and toys tossed haphazardly on the ground, chairs that are never in the same place twice and a trash can that our crazy dog seems to think is her personal toy. I wouldn't change it for the world.

The turtle and the hare.

I can't seem to break out of this turtle/hare routine. (Think of it as my own personal Jekyll/Hyde disorder.) Some days I can barely get out of bed. Dog-hair tumbleweeds invade the living spaces, bird toys scattered around the floor and dinner is thrown together rather than planned. Those are the days when the dishes might get done before bed, a load of laundry is only done if someone needs a specific article of clothing and the bedrooms look like a natural disaster hit. I'm not proud of this, of course. I have reasons. Migraines, back pain, crippling depression, nausea and dizziness that I can't seem to shake. It's been this way for so long that I've become accustomed to it.

After a day or two of that, it leads me into a manic state where everything has to be done right now and I obsess over the end result. Are the canisters and wine bottles all facing forward? Is the kitchen table centered on the far window? I clean with a vengeance; using toothbrushes to scrub the edges of the sink, scrubbing tubs, toilets and floors and causing blisters on my hands from scalding water and caustic cleaning solutions. The house, for a time, is presentable. No matter, if someone stops by, I'll still apologize for the mess. I over-analyze, obsess and generally throw myself into a tizzy over things I can't change.

Every day I long for the in-between. The days where I can relax but still have the motivation to stay on top of the housework, doctor appointments, school meetings and sibling interventions that inevitably creep up. I want to step away from the internal struggle and find some kind of balance. I want to be me again.

Wonky

So, the scheduled posts that I've had in the wings haven't posted. Not sure why (one was from my phone, so I can understand that one) but I'll blame it on user error (ie: my fault) and move on. I'll try to recover the text files I saved everything to but, failing that, I'll just start over fresh and you'll have a few lovely new posts to read. Yay!

Have a heart.

This is the time of year when the kids are away on vacation, visiting various family members for a few weeks. No matter how many times it happens, I still miss them terribly. Can't-breathe, cry-at-everything, sleep-in-their-rooms kind of miss them. I know that this time is the perfect opportunity to get my "To Do" list whittled down (and I'm doing that, I promise) but my heart just isn't in it. It's a thousand miles away right now.

Ouch!

Theron has been getting allergy shots for a little while now, and we're past the initial period where we just wait and see how he tolerates a single dose. Oh, no. Now his dosage increases with every visit, which means they're just filling the syringe a little more each time. Considering how badly this stuff burns, I wasn't surprised that Theron actually cried this time. It did, however, break my heart. He's been so stoic, even when getting injections in, or very close to, already bruised skin. (Two shots, twice per week, in the backs of his upper arms only gives them so much room to work with.)

Today was his breaking point and I can't say that I blame him. He had at least three of the nurses in tears, too. He's always been so good about his shots and has invited every nurse out for ice cream at least once (and two he tried to move in with, oy vey). I think his breakdown was so unexpected that it caught them off guard. It certainly did for me. Maybe it's easier for them to ignore when they know the kid will scream and cry and fight them. Who knows?

There's a catch 22 in all of this, which is that the kids leave in one week to visit their father. This is the first year that we've had to try and coordinate a doctor, let alone a specialist, while they're up there. (My insurance will only cover emergencies while they're up there and their father has a very high deductible since he rarely gets ill and the kids have never needed medical attention while visiting.) Their step-mother gave me the name of an allergist up there, which turned out to be the only immunology office in the entire town. Oh, but the allergist that she knew of had retired and left the practice to someone else. Someone who still has not called me back.

Obviously, I don't trust my child's life to someone who can't pick up the phone, or even ask one of a dozen or so people who work with him to do it. Factor in that Theron's actually having reactions now, no matter how minor,and it's a no-brainer. Luckily, his father and I are in complete agreement. So, for the three weeks that the kids are visiting their father, Theron gets a break from his shots. We may have to back up a dose or two, but I'll take that over the alternative any day.

What a week!

Park! Field Day! Mud Mania! It's been a whirlwind of a week, but here are some pictures from the park:







Field Day injury and Mud Mania pictures to follow!