January's Storm

On Saturday, December 31st, Mark and I got away for the night.  The in-laws graciously came down to watch Anth while we headed to St. Paul for an evening of celebration with the new Mr. and Mrs. Pearson.  The wedding was beautiful, the bride was stunning and the night out was so. much. fun.  We laughed, had some drinks, danced (okay, that was more ME than Mark!), spent time with wonderful friends, stayed up way too late and found ourselves sleeping in a divine king size bed without the nightly interruptions.

The Traveling Photo Booth was a definite highlight!
In case you are wondering, YES, that is Charlie's butt.  
Dancing to "Pour Some Sugar on Me" 
got a little out of control for those rented pants!

The following week Manda went into labor on Wednesday and Friday. On Wednesday Taitum decided when mommy got to the hospital in Duluth that she didn't really want to leave the nice cozy womb just yet.  So she held on - giving her mommy all the lovely contractions and pain she could - until Friday.  Both days, thankfully, I was able to go to Duluth as well and spend time with my sister.

I wouldn't change any of this, though.  We needed a Mark & Tonja night away.  And the gift of being with my sister in welcoming Taitum was, as you already know, beyond amazing.

All of this, though, has caused the perfect storm of January.  (By this I mean disruptions and changes to the typical, everyday schedule for Anthony.)

Anthony's storm.

Tonight early this morning we are once again playing musical beds.  However, this time is a bit different.  Anth calls out for me, which is typical.  I go to to him, which is also typical, to reassure him that he's okay, the bad dream has passed and that mommy & daddy are right here with him.  Typically he is reassured, will settle back down in his "Batman Bed" aka the old crib mattress that sits forever at the foot of our bed and go back to bed peacefully.

That wasn't the case tonight just an hour ago, though.

Immediately upon entering his room he's fighting mad.  He's hitting, he's verbalizing his dislike for his mommy and refuses to go anywhere except mommy & daddy's bed to sleep with daddy. 

Once Anth is calmed down, tucked in and with daddy, I crawl into his Spiderman bed completely awake.  Praying.  Thinking.  Getting mad myself.  

Right now I am feeling like a Judy Bloom character.  Are you there God?  It's me, Margaret.  I suppose the similarities end there, though.  I'm not a sixth grade girl on a quest for a single religion all the while having to deal with buying my first bra, having my first period and seeing girls around me develop a womanly figure faster than I am.  

I know God is busy.  He's always got to feel overwhelmingly busy.  Heck!  There's still a cruise ship that is laying on it's side.  And that's only ONE item in the news.  Plus there are millions of people with their own hurt and struggles and health issues, etc. etc. etc. etc.  Right now I'm picturing the post-it scene from Bruce Almighty.  I wonder if God chuckled at the scene too?!

Anthony's storms are hard and fierce and feel never ending.  They leave me wide awake at 3:30 in the morning wondering about every little thing.  What can I do?  What shouldn't I do?  How can I be better?  What else should I look into?  Is therapy enough?  Should I read more books?  What am I missing?  What should my reactions be?  How is Anthony really doing?  Will he be okay?  What does this feel like for him?  Is this hurt crushing him as much as it's crushing me?  Do I press forward or do I back off?  Do his words and actions really match up with how he's truly feeling?  Does he know he's loved?  ....wanted?  ...accepted?  FOREVER.  Does he really think that one day we will just leave?  

The questions continue to percolate and build leaving me to ask ---- Are you there God?  It's me, Tonja.  Anth is really hurting right now, he continues to hurt, but I don't know if I'm doing the right thing to help him.  It feels like my help is pushing him away more than anything else.  Plus I don't know how much my heart can take.  It feels like January's storm is blending in with all of the other storms and the daily on-your-toes parenting.  Please help him.  Please hold his hand through this journey - carrying him when you need to - and help him to the other side.   Please be with Mark and I.  We. Need. You.  We need the help you bring that's beyond therapy and beyond our love for him.  Please help.