Grown Up?

I'm turning 30 this June.

Thirty.

Soon I'll be the "old woman" that I always dreaded I'd become.

For the record, I never thought of being thirty as a good thing. When I was in grade school, I thought thirty-year-olds were just a few years from retirement -- practically senior citizens as far as I was concerned. As a teenager, I perceived thirty-year-olds as basically "hella old." In my teenage eyes, 30-somethings lacked any desire to have a life or do anything remotely close to fun. And in my early 20s? To simply put it, thirty-year-olds "had no business in the club."

To me, turning thirty automatically ordained you as a financially established and emotionally mature member of adulthood. Thirty meant you had a college degree, a career, married with kids, voted, cared about current affairs, invested in stocks, had a retirement plan, owned a house with white picket fence, and so forth. The age almost has an air of stateliness to it. Thirty is important. Thirty means you're done with irresponsibility. Thirty means you don't want go to the club. Thirty means you have your shit together.

Reaching this age feels like a rite of passage. Now here I am, wiping my feet at the threshold of thirty's door, and I don't think I'm ready guys.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm not afraid of getting older. I've accepted that my white hairs have reached a point where they aren't manageable by simply plucking them out. I've even embraced the worry lines on my forehead. As far as I'm concerned they're badges of honor -- I earned those bad boys fair and square. Hell, I've even gotten over the fact that my boobs really aren't going to get any bigger! (I blame this ignorance on my pediatrician. She gave me false hope that I'd "bloom more" after I had kids and started lactating. Ha! Wrong.)

The physical changes associated with aging don't bother me. Though I'm not beyond buying myself boobies and a tummy tuck if my 40s push my "insecurity button." (Or if I win the lotto. Whichever comes first.) No, what bothers me is that I don't feel like I deserve to be thirty yet.

I still feel like I'm fifteen inside.

Sure I have a job, I'm responsible for the lives of four little lions, and I pay my bills on time just like the next guy, but can I be honest for a minute? Most days I want to lay in bed, watch crappy reality shows, craft, and eat Coco Puffs. I haven't even been summoned for jury duty yet, and I'm supposedly going to be thirty soon? I'm starting to think that even the people at the courthouse know I'm not emotionally mature enough for that level of responsibility.

The reality is, I'm turning thirty, but I feel like a little girl playing pretend in a big girl's world.

Ironically though, things happened to me in this lifetime that actually make me emotionally older than thirty. Too much heartache. Too much responsibility too soon. Too many medical problems. Too much loss. Frankly, all of those things have aged me about a thousand years. It would age you too, my friend.

So, although I'm capable of making decisions like a thirty-year-old, I'm still far from caring about my contribution to my retirement. Yes, I said it, I haven't started a 401k.

I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do with my future let alone trying to figure out how to retire from it! I never had a chance to peruse though the "aisles of possibility" in my early adulthood. Having kids at a young age forces you to grow up, you know? "Real" thirty-year-olds probably followed a college-marriage-house-kids plan of action whereas I followed a  kid-kid-some college-kid-kid-kid-worklikeadoguntilthedayIday succession. So, I often feel like I'm playing catch up with my emotional development.

Like really, I'm turning thirty and I'm STILL not done with school?! Like really, I'm turning thirty and I don't even know where to begin when it comes to the stock market?! Like really, I'm turning THIRTY and I still want to spend my days water-coloring like I did back in high school?! Like really, I'm turning thirty, have FIVE kids, and I'm still not married?

While the rest of my friends spent their 20s being free and finding themselves, I spent most of my 20s living in the "right now." The "now" commanded my decision making and emotional development. There was no time for dreaming. No time for fun. No time for Coco Puffs. I was busy working two jobs, going to school, grieving, procreating, and raising kids while trying to raise myself. And now I desperately want to regain all of the "possibility" that I lost in my 20s.

I don't feel like I'm 30 yet because I skipped an important phase of my emotional development. I'm stuck in high school -- or Coco Puff-land as I like to call it. I miss living in the unapologetic selfishness and egocentricity associated with being "young."  I love my life, but sometimes I just want these kids and my baby daddy to leave me alone for just one stinking minute!

Maybe it's a Mom thing? Would I even feel this way if I was  "normal" thirty-year-old mother? Shouldn't I be a doting mother and "wife" all the time instead of the overstressed, daydreamer longing for a day off from responsibility? How could I possibly deserve the title of "Being Thirty" when all I truly desire is to consume massive amounts cereal and uninterrupted time for creativity?

I don't know. But I do know this -- 30 isn't the end of the world like I thought it once was.

I'm in no rush to feel my age. I'll get there eventually, but for now I'm OK with being Peter Pan on the inside -- I refuse to grow up. I refuse to let thirty define me. I may sometimes feel self-conscious and uncivilized when I'm in the company of normal, mature thirty-year-old mothers, but I'm learning accept that too. Life is a work in progress and it ain't over until it's over. There is so much that I want to do and tons of time to do it. There is nothing wrong with still believing that possibility is out there. And who said life needed to be done in a specific sequence anyway?

I'm conclusion, Jay-Z was right. 30 is definitely the new 20.

Apologies are in order...

Please excuse my last post. I was debilitated by my own sadness that day.

Moving onward...

He Died in His Daddy's Arms...

We stayed up the night before holding him in our arms for just one last time. We loved him for every second we could. We took pictures. We played music -- the same song that we played as he slipped away. He moved his foot when I sang to him. We cried and prayed for a miracle. We could have sat there with him forever if time wasn't against us. The inevitable was going to happen in a few short hours, and somehow we had to figure out a way to accept that.

I remember that night well...

The NICU arranged for us to sleep in the hospital just in case Ethan decided to leave us sooner than anticipated. We woke up, got ready, and tried our best to keep ourselves together. Today was the day we were going to say goodbye to our baby. How do you prepare for that?

We were on the brink of falling apart.

A friend of mine (who took Ethan's xrays when he was first admitted) came by to visit with us in the NICU. She was the first visit of that morning. Then slowly but surely, family and friends poured in to support us. We met with our social worker and Ethan's doctors. They talked to us about what would happen as he slipped away. He would be given morphine to make him comfortable. It could take minutes or hours before he left us. They advised us that he may appear to gasp as he slipped away, but that it was not him struggling to breathe. It scared me. I was numb.

I couldn't believe this was happening.

The staff arranged for us to have a private room on the 7th floor in Pedatrics. I remember walking up there and passing the nurses station. There was a group of student nurses there in their tell-tale scrubs. I met their eyes and I immediately knew that they knew...

We were the family that was losing their baby today.

We were in the room talking with family, friends, and the social worker making sure that everything in order. We brought his quilt from home and my brother-in-law Jason gave us Ethan's song to play.

Then suddenly he was there.

We thought we were supposed to call to have him brought up so it took us by surprise. We weren't ready to say goodbye, but there Ethan was, being bagged by a nurse. His doctor and social worker were there, too. My brother-in-law Chris later told us that our social worker was tearing. Everything went quickly from there because all I could do was stare at him. I couldn't believe it. He looked so tiny in his bed. The people in the room left. And then it was just us and the NICU team.

The NICU nurse stopped bagging Ethan at 10:06am.

They snapped a picture of him and then placed Ethan in our arms and they left. I was just the three of us in that room together. The last time we were alone with him was the day he was born. It seemed horridly unfair.

It's impossible to describe those last moments with Ethan....

To say what went on in my head as I said goodbye to my baby...
To express the immense pain and fear that John and I were experiencing...
To describe the internal battle I was having with my faith in God for allowing this to happen to Ethan...

There are no words, just emotions.

John is the only other person in the world who knows what it felt like.

Gut-wrenching sobs painfully tore through our bodies until I thought we couldn't take it anymore. We laid in bed with him, trying our best to soothe Ethan as he slipped away. He didn't gasp. If I didn't know any better, I would have fooled myself into thinking he was just sleeping. But I knew better.
The energy in the room shifted, and Ethan died peacefully in his Daddy's arms at 11:00am.

We haven't been the same since. If you're reading this, hug your children tighter than you've ever hugged them before. I will hug mine. And I will pray to God that he gives us the strength to survive another year of this lifetime without our baby. I will miss him until the day I die.

Mommy loves you, my Little Lion in the sky...

San Francisco Cupcake Challenge

Damn my pre-diabetes to hell, but I'm infamous for having a gigantic sweet tooth! With that being said, I also happen to be a shameless baked goods snob. I have a sensitive palette so I only patronize the best of the best whenever I'm in need of a baker.

Enter Marie Fontela of Tiny Treats.

Marie and I met in 2009 while I was planning Niki's 1st birthday party. I was searching for the perfect treat to accompany Niki's chocolate fountain and there she was right under my nose. Marie was referred to me by a friend of a friend and I immediately fell in love with everything I saw on here website. She responded to my email inquiry quickly, and within the week, we met and she gave me some samples of her tiny treats.

I was hooked from moment on.

There has a been an internet explosion of "how-tos" on cakepops and let me tell you, not all cakepop-ers are created equal. Tiny Treats is a professional catering service that holds itself to the highest standards when it comes to quality and taste. Marie's cakepops are from scratch -- none of that greasy boxed stuff -- and she only uses the best ingredients. Her red velvet cakepop is pure art. It's moist, delectable, and the candy-to-cake ratio was perfect.

From Niki's Royal Tea Party

Oh, and don't even get me started on her mini cheesecakes. Not only is the price budget-friendly ($40 for 100 mini cheesecakes? Whhhhat!) but they're also to die for. My mouth salivates at the mere thought of them...

But her cupcakes? Her cupcakes are my favorite!  I ordered mini cupcakes for Niki's soda shoppe-themed  party and again, I fell in love. Actually, I was sad that the kids weren't old enough to truly appreciate the artistry that they were experiencing in their happy little tummies.

A Tiny Treats cupcake feels like a perfectly orchestrated symphony of flavor happening in your mouth. Yes, it's THAT serious. ;)

Over the years I've come to find out that Marie and I have quite a few things in common -- too many to list! I'm convinced we're kindred spirits. But to my dismay, as many times as we've talked about hanging out, it has never happened. She's the mother of three beautiful daughters and I've got my fourlittlelions so things can get pretty hectic for both of our schedules. BUT...I'm happy to report that she's recently signed me on to make a Wonka-style invitation for an event she has coming up. We're finally going to have a pow-wow soon!

When I found out that Tiny Treats was requested to participate in the San Francisco's Cupcake Challenge I knew that I had to support her. Tiny Treats has participated in the SF Peninsula Kids Party Expo along side my all-time fave photographer (and winner of Bay Area Parent's Favorite Photographer Award 3 years in a row!) Kim of Super Kimagery and my familia at SugaMeSweets (the most talented cake artisans I know!) And when the Giants won the World Series, this bad-ass baker made 500 cupcakes (yes 500!) and shared them with the public...for free!

So does Tiny Treats deserve your support? Hell to the yes.

Marie is battling it out with several San Francisco bakeries this SUNDAY, JANUARY 15th and the winning business will be dubbed with having the best cupcake in San Francisco. And my friends, Tiny Treats deserves the win! Much to my growling tummy's dismay, I won't be able to attend because of John's Rite of Acceptance mass at our church. But...that shouldn't stop you! Follow the link below so you can be part of this awesome event where YOU can be the judge!

http://www.drinkeatplay.com/sfcupcakechallenge/

Good luck, Marie! You know I'm rooting for you. :)

About "Different Dream Parenting" - A Guest Post from Author Jolene Philo

On October 26th, I got a lovely surprise in the mail -- my copy of Jolene Philo's book, "Different Dream Parenting" finally came in!

I had the privilege of speaking with Jolene in August 2010. She was in the early stages of writing and I was one of the many parents that she interviewed to be included in the book. Jolene already wrote a wonderful book titled "A Different Dream for My Child." The book I was being interviewed for was going to compliment that book. It was an honor to get to know such a phenomenal woman and to share our family's story. There was something therapeutic about talking to Jolene. Since then I've been thrilled to see Jolene posting some of the information I've shared with her on her blog. It feels good knowing that my input somehow helped others.  And Jolene, thank you for dubbing me your "Queen of Apps" in your latest post. I think I'll have to put that on my resume. ;) You can click the links below if you want to see those blog entries on differentdream.com.

Seriously? There's an App for That? - Posted September 20, 2010
What the Personal Caregiver iPhone App can Do For You - Posted October 27, 2010
Breast Feeding: There's An App for That, Too. - Posted May 27, 2011

Below you'll find a guest post from Jolene as well as an except from the book. You can purchase the book from her website or you can click here to purchase it at 10% off the retail price. I also have one copy that I want to give away to one of my readers FOR FREE! If you know of family who could benefit from this book, or if YOU can, please feel free to privately message me or comment below. :)

Words from Jolene...

When our beautiful newborn boy was transferred to a regional hospital, my husband and I felt lost at sea. A few hours later, we learned that our baby required immediate surgery at a university hospital 750 miles away. Without it, he would die. That news threw us overboard. We longed for someone who could come alongside and pull us out of the water. A book to chart a map through unfamiliar waters and assure us of God’s presence.

But our son was born in 1982 when pediatric medicine was a relatively new field. Families like ours were hard to find. Parenting books hadn’t been written. The internet didn’t exist. Over the next twenty years, even after the surgeries and medical procedures that corrected our son’s condition were over, my search for parenting resources yielded scant results. Eventually, I sensed God nudging me to come alongside young parents lost at sea like we had been, to create a map they could follow.

Different Dream Parenting: A Practical Guide to Raising a Child with Special Needs is that map. It’s a map for parents of kids living with medical special needs as well as conditions like Down Syndrome, juvenile diabetes, developmental delays, and autism, and those facing a terminal diagnosis. It guides parents by providing tools and resources they need to become effective advocates for their kids.

The book features interviews, advice, and resources from more than fifty families, including Tiffany, and two dozen professionals. With their help, the book addresses the situations parents face every day. Things I wish someone had told me, like:

• Asking questions after diagnosis.
• Dealing with insurance companies.
• Preparing a child for a hospital stay.
• Accessing financial resources and government monies.
• Accessing special education services.
• Determining optimum level of care.
• Mobilizing volunteers at home.
• Supporting the sibs.
• Preparing a child for death.
• Planning a funeral.
• Participating in community and church events.
• Creating a special needs trust for adult children with special needs.

In addition to practical advice, Different Dream Parenting tackles spiritual questions families are often afraid to ask. Questions about:

• God’s sovereignty
• Parental guilt
• Setting and maintaining spiritual priorities
• Grieving for children living with special needs
• Grieving the death of a child
• Passing faith on to children with special needs

Thirty day prayer guides in the appendices are for parents too exhausted to form their own prayers.

I remember what it’s like to be lost at sea, thrown overboard by an unexpected diagnosis, and drowning under a flood of caregiving demands. My goal is to put Different Dream Parenting into the hands of floundering parents so they have a map and know they’re not alone. To order the book, visit www.DifferentDream.com and click on the “buy the book” tab.

Thanks, Tiffany, for this opportunity to guest blog at The Art of Lion Taming and tell people about Different Dream Parenting.

An Excerpt from the book...  

I Didn’t Sign Up for This, God!

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you can’t move? The car is racing toward the edge of a cliff and you can’t lift your foot to press the brake pedal. An attacker is breaking down the door to your house and you can’t raise your arm to dial 911. Your child is about to run in front of a truck and you can’t open your mouth to scream.

My bad dream became a reality in 1982. My husband and I stood beside our son’s isolette in the neonatal intensive care unit. An IV needle pierced Allen’s tiny arm, and angry red scars crisscrossed his chest. One end of his feeding tube hung on a pole beside his IV bag. The other end rose from the soft skin of his tummy. Pain etched his wide forehead and tugged at the corners of his perfect rosebud mouth.

More than anything, I wanted to reach out and take his hurt away. But I was trapped in a bad dream. Immobilized. Inadequate. Helpless. Though God had assigned me to love and care for this beautiful child, I could do nothing to minimize his pain. My thoughts were an inward scream. This isn’t what I signed up to do, God! I don’t want to be a helpless onlooker. I want to parent my child. How can I care for him? What can I do?

As the parent of a child with special needs, you’ve probably experienced the same sense of helplessness. Whether your child is critically or chronically ill, mentally or physically impaired, develop- mentally or behaviorally challenged, you want to do something. You want to ease your child’s pain, but you don’t know how. You want to help your child realize his or her full potential, but you don’t know where to begin. You want to ask God about your child’s suffering, but you don’t want to be condemned for questioning His wisdom. You want to believe God is with you, but you don’t know how to find Him.

You’re stuck in a bad dream. You can’t move. You can’t speak. You want someone to shake you awake and tell you everything will be okay. Instead, you wake up and must become the parent you never expected to be. You doubt that you’re up to the task. You’re worried about your child’s future. And you’re wondering, Does anyone understand what I’m experiencing?

The answer is yes, many parents understand your situation. In the United States,
• 10–15 percent of newborns, or 431,000 annually, spend time in neonatal intensive care according to the March of Dimes.
• 12 percent of children between ages 1 and 17 had medical conditions serious enough to require hospitalization between 2004 and 2006, the most recent years for which statistics are available at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
• 13.6 percent of students between ages 6 and 21 were enrolled in some kind of special needs program according to the National Center for Educational Statistics. That’s 706,000 of our country’s school-aged children.

Lots of kids mean lots of parents, dads and moms who are valuable sources of information and advice. In this book, dozens of them share with you the wisdom they gained while parenting kids with special needs.

Support can also come from the surprising number of professionals who work with families of kids with special needs. These professionals—and the resources they’ve created—are available at hospitals, medical facilities, government agencies, private organizations, businesses, schools, churches, and more.

This book brings you advice from professionals around the country and provides information about national organizations and resources. It also gives tips about where to start searching for state and local resources. More often than not, your problem won’t be a lack of resources, but a lack of awareness of them or inability to access them.

Different Dream Parenting contains six sections: Diagnosis, Hospital Life, Juggling Two Worlds, Long-Term Care Conditions, Losing a Child, and Raising a Survivor. Each section is divided into four chapters. Three chapters address practical issues. The last chapter in each section addresses spiritual concerns.

Parents of kids with special needs often wrestle with prickly spiritual questions. I sure did. Sometimes I still do. So do all the parents interviewed in this book, and most of the professionals, too. Every day, we continue to ask questions about our kids’ lives and futures. Gradually, we learn more about how to trust God’s timing and wait for His answers.

As you read this book, please ask your faith questions. Read about how parents and professionals learned to ask questions, wait, and listen. Consider the answers they have discerned and their suggestions about how to find comfort and courage in God’s Word. When you are ready, try out their ideas about how to pray and use Scripture to hear God’s answers to your hard questions. The thirty-day prayer guides in appendix A are designed to help you engage in conversation with Him.

But even with prayer guides and Scripture to guide you, I know how hard it can be to trust the God who is allowing your child to suffer. So I won’t condemn you for asking prickly questions. Instead, I’ll encourage you, cry with you, and support you when your faith grows weak. When you can’t hang on a minute longer, I’ll hold you close until your strength and your faith return.

I hope this book helps you break out of your bad dream, wake up, and move forward with joy and confidence. I pray that the stories of parents and professionals in this book will give you hope and strength.

Most of all, I hope you discover the truth God has revealed to me and many other parents. Raising a child with special needs isn’t a bad dream. It’s just a different dream. And surprisingly, a different dream can be the best dream of all.

Taken from Different Dream Parenting, 2011 by Jolene Philo. Used by permission of Discovery House Publishers, Box 3566, Grand Rapids, MI 49501. All rights reserved